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 Sometimes, home feels outdated. It's not exactly sleepy, as such, it's just quiet and boxy and cold, and the high school hasn't upgraded its computers in what seems like decades, so the labs are full of boxy off-gray machines with lurid blue backgrounds. The stores all close at seven, and the one nightclub is a dilapidated husk. Everyone knows the names of every member of the Little League team and every house has the same color roof. The sun shines all day and the moon is always visible at night, and the interstitial period where it's still light but the moon is peeking through -- it doesn't happen, around here, there's no dark liminality, there's always light beating down on your back. There's not really any noise, but no real silence anywhere, either. It's -- it's static, might be the word. Static and thus dead, baking in the throbbing colorless sun. Fermenting without changing. This is a town ready to be buried. But you -- you're not part of its paradigm, not really. You know you have to be different -- you don't belong to these streets, these houses. You're strangers, city-dwellers, problem children, church devotees, psychics, travelers, expats from or pilgrims to somewhere else. Unless you don't get to move on. There's murmurs of something else. An epidemic of dreams. Rain that tastes like salt. When this town is buried, a few new corpses are going to be buried with it. quote:This is a playtest of Killer World, a *world hack designed to simulate slasher films. Players can expect a certain amount of gore, which is meant to lend a flavor to the narrative rather than to act as its main aesthetic element. We're not talking unnecessary splatterhouse here. If anything which induces discomfort in you comes up -- by which I mean the unfun, unpleasant kind of discomfort -- bring it up and we'll hash out a way of making it work without whatever is making your experience unpleasant. Poltergrift fucked around with this message at 04:56 on Jun 25, 2016 |
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Jun 25, 2016 04:48
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  quote:Name: Brian Cullins, the Bad Seed I lurch forward. Two hours into a ten hour shift, and I'm already too tired to stand. The sun beats down on my head as I gather up yet another stray shopping cart in this momentous parking lot outside the one and only box store in the neighborhood. Of course, I'm the guy that gets the afternoon cart attendant shift on the hottest day of the year. I think my boss hates me. I know I hate her. What did I expect? I turn my head to the side and watch casually as a shopper strolls her overloaded cart to her undersized car, slamming the cart into the bumper of the car parked next to hers without a care. She grunts and opens her trunk, beginning to load the discounted goods, one at a time. I see the problem immediately - a couple large packages of toilet paper rolls, you know, the kind that come 30 to a bag, precariously balanced between the child seat and handle. As she moves to grab a few more bags out of the cart, she taps the Newtonian oddity with her shoulder, sending it all tumbling down. I stare with mirth as bags containing all sorts of things - hairspray, energy drinks, milk cartons, candy bars - all spill out onto the blistering pavement. For a second, she freezes, then cursing, leans over to gather everything up. She spots me smiling, then shouts angrily, "Hey! Come over and help me, young man! That's your job, right?! Or should I tell the manager?" I curse under my breath, then begin helping her track down the odds and ends. In the process, I store a few energy drinks and Snickers bars behind a station wagon's tires nearby. I doubt they'll be missed by this paragon of humanity. I get up and hand her the last stray, an egg 12-pack leaking yolk out the side, with a smile on my face, "Pleasure to help you ma'am." She takes the eggs and unceremoniously tosses them into her backseat, spreading goo all over. She gives me a cold look, then utters "gently caress you," before turning on her heel and escaping from the heat into the driver seat. The same smile is plastered on my face as she backs up, nearly hitting me in the process, then accelerates straight out of the lot. I sigh, reach into my pocket for a small red pill, pop it into my mouth, and swallow. I hate this place. Maybe that's why I can't leave it. quote:1. How do you feel about this town? Where else would you go, if you had any say in the matter? I hate it. Like... really hate it. I hate the people. I hate the culture. I hate the few things to do. I hate the food from all the restaurants. Hell, I even hate the way the town celebrates Christmas, with a giant Christmas tree down in Central Park, and a tree-lighting ceremony accompanied by all these nondenominational sayings like "Have a Wonderful Wintertime!" I even hate the loving mailmen. Get it? I hate it. If I could leave? Dunno where I'd go. This is the only place I've really ever been, outside a few trips when I was much younger to family in the big city a few hours away. Just seemed like more dumb people and more dumb places and more dumb things to do. A small part of me probably thinks that if I ever moved somewhere, I'd just hate that place to. Better to stay with the place you hate and know then the place you hate and don't. At least here, I have a decent dealer that hooks me up. quote:2. Where in town do you go, when you have a choice? Is it all bad?  The Gaslighter That old vintage movie theater, The Gaslighter, it's pretty cool, I guess. They always have these old arty movies that are fun as hell to watch when you're high as hell. Or maybe, more accurately, you can be high as hell there without anybody really noticing, because not many people go anyways. Their prices are cheap, their food is poo poo, and people leave me alone there. I guess that's all I really need to be happy. Works for me. quote:3. Who do you find yourself seeing over and over? How do you feel about them?  Ruth Medford My dealer, Ruth Medford. Thought she was just some boring, dumb old lady down the street. A few years ago, my dad outsourced me to her as hired labor, forced to mow the lawn and deal with the weeds. One day, she invited me in for some lemonade, but turned out she had much more in mind - she offered me to smoke a blunt with her! She was way different from what I thought, and eventually it got to the point where I mostly just went over to her house to get high instead of work, listen to her ramble on about tales from her life, mostly about how her ex-husband Dale was a drunk and a poo poo person and how she slept with all the other husbands in the neighborhood for fun. Turns out you can make pretty good money selling drugs the government gives you for Medicare, especially the ones that are hard to find on the street. Sometimes she gets a bit mean, like when she asked me what "hyphy" meant and I laughed, or when I was a few payments behind. But I guess I hate her a little less than everybody else around here, for what it's worth. quote:4. Why can't you get any sleep any more? What kind of dreams do you have? Maybe it's the new drugs Ruth gave me, small little red things that take the edge off when I'm collapsing into my bed after a long day spent pushing carts around. Or maybe it's that I am dreaming... dreaming of just staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, and all the little poo poo that I've tacked up there over the years. Old band posters, concerts I can't remember, school projects that I never even cared about in the first place. All up there, reminding me how stuck in this dumb town I am. Whatever. The sun always rises. A new day, right? Maybe something will change. Or maybe it won't. I don't really care. Frgrbrgr fucked around with this message at 01:15 on Jun 29, 2016 |
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Jun 25, 2016 05:09
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I know someone who might really dig this. I'll at least watch the hell out of the thread, if that counts for interest at all. The Shadow's Transgression move is worded a little weird. I think it means you can either harm someone else to erase stress or give the killer a bond to escape? Anyway here's my app. Kent Mason  1. How do you feel about this town? Where else would you go, if you had any say in the matter? Everything good that's ever happened to me was here. Married my highschool sweetheart. Held my newborn son for the first time. I'd stay. If I had to go, I'd go back in time. Just as likely as leaving. Sides, someone's gotta teach these drat kids how to stay in shape and keep the Mom and Pops in business. 2. Where in town do you go, when you have a choice? Is it all bad? The Teddy's Gas to shoot the poo poo. Watch the cars come and go. New ones all look just like the new shoes the boys at the high school've started wearing. Stupid. Mel's Diner for steak and eggs, and a whole pot of coffee. Beers at Eckhart's. On a good day, pie at one and bourbon at the other. It's a fine rut to be stuck in, far as I'm concerned. I just hope the money situations they all've been having work themselves out. Shell, IHOP and Applebee's don't hold a candle to them. Tried them once and it was enough. They don't know me there and I don't want to know them. [They're the only friends that he's kept since the accident. He's a paying customer, after all. The rest quietly cut him out of their lives because out of sight is out of mind, and he might confide in them or something. They don't want to catch what he has, and wish he'd just leave.] 3. Who do you find yourself seeing over and over? How do you feel about them? Melissa's been coming round to Eckhart's, now that her waitresses are 18 and want the extra work. They're different people there. Jury's still out on what I think of that. I'm glad they aren't at Applebee's, that's for sure. [He's started drinking at home afterwards instead of getting hammered there like before, in front of them. Melissa and he have a kind of connection, but he's staying faithful. Now he pretends to be drunk enough for Eckhart to need to drive him home. Eckhart knows this and thinks it's stupid.] 4. Why can't you get any sleep any more? What kind of dreams do you have? It's 5 years ago and I'm the one driving Junior and Hilde to the movies, they're both on the passenger side of the truck. I put my foot down about wearing seat belts no matter how close the theater is and I'm on the side that gets t-boned. I don't bust my back to save that fat rear end in a top hat mayor who started his own house on fire, I save the people I love and I just die... Passing out's not the same as proper sleep, but I have to take what I can get. quote:THE KEEPER
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Jun 25, 2016 06:56
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Posting interest.
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Jun 25, 2016 10:51
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I would be interested in playing as well, but before I get started on my character, may I ask how will you decide which flavor of killer to use? Also, is the way the killer delivers harm completely in your hands?
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Jun 25, 2016 15:19
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paradoxGentleman posted:I would be interested in playing as well, but before I get started on my character, may I ask how will you decide which flavor of killer to use? Killer flavor will be reliant on what I think will work with the players, although I've currently got a default in mind. The killer delivers harm either through Killer Moves, as appropriate, or through hard moves. They're more a force of nature than an active character.
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Jun 25, 2016 18:06
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Think I'm going to bow out. The setting reads more creepypasta than slasher flick to me. Thanks for the opportunity, though!
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Jun 26, 2016 06:59
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Elaine Beatrice Sellows Elaine's hand trembled as she brought another cigarette up to her mouth. Her nerves were shot, and the taste of stale coffee was only made more palpable with each drag she took. She looked out from her apartment window at the empty street. The sun here seemed to be eternally obscured, just bright enough to make the town appear as if it was trapped in an old fading photo. She had moved here some years back leaving behind a cheating husband, fake friends and relatives she couldn't bring herself to face, but never quite felt at home. Unease was persistent, and the doldrums of small town living had begun to erode at her already waning sanity. Maybe she could get out. She started over once, it could happen again. quote:The Disturbed 1. How do you feel about this town? Where else would you go, if you had any say in the matter? It's quiet here. Not silent, but quiet. Innovation seems to have stopped in the late eighties or early nineties and the town seems to stand defiant against change. Decay sequestered away by willful ignorance. I never intended to be here long. Much like everything else, I sunk into a routine of complacent mundanity. I don't know where I would go though. Maybe somewhere out west. Somewhere where the sun shines bright, somewhere with vibrant hues and character, somewhere near the ocean where the sounds of waves crashing in on themselves endlessly might work to soothe the frayed ends of mind. 2. Where in town do you go, when you have a choice? Is it all bad? There's a bar not far from my apartment. People around here call it Elroy's, but it has an almost cartoonish neon sign that just says 'BAR'. Well 'B-R', the A hasn't been lit up since I moved here and I don't think Elroy will ever have it changed. The beer tastes like piss, the liquor is watered down and the juke box is broken, but it's a nice place to get away from the rest of these people who seem to be just fine-fuckin'-content with this dying town. At least there, I can drown my animosity and curb my anxieties if just for the night. 3. Who do you find yourself seeing over and over? How do you feel about them? Chris Winters. He's always around, handy with a toolbox, and a good gently caress. There's something broken in him. I can see it, like I see it in myself. He knows it too. Doesn't try to hide it, but doesn't sulk around or crush his sorrows in vicodin and Jim Beam like I do. He's... he's sweet. Gentle, but wounded. Also he doesn't treat me like I'm some crazy cat lady although I just work, drink and stay cooped up in this 400 sqft. diorama I call a home. I've been hurt before though. Our relationship is probably as good as it'll ever be. 4. Why can't you get any sleep any more? What kind of dreams do you have? Unless my blood alcohol level is double the limit, I can't really get any sleep. I stare at the crumbling popcorn texture of my ceiling for hours and somewhere in that time I drift off into a waking nightmare. Like sleep paralysis I guess. Except there's no demonic shadows or strange creatures crawling out from strangely-angled corners. Nothing holding me to my bed against my will. I feel like I'm being disassembled. Like every molecule in my body is unzipping to form some dismal atomic soup, and then the ceiling breaks away revealing an indifferent abyss. The stars look all wrong, pale and tinged with red and I feel them approaching and then I feel revulsion, as if every fibre of my being was screaming out in disgust at the sight. There's an intense heat, and then the alarm goes off. Anomalous Amalgam fucked around with this message at 05:29 on Jun 29, 2016 |
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Jun 27, 2016 00:31
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Sterling Seinfield, the Beloved How do you feel about this town? Where else would you go, if you had any say in the matter? There's plenty of folks in my class that can't stand to live here, you know? And I can't really blame them: there's not a lot to do here if you're a teenager, no place to hang out at night or maybe dance and the stores don't have a lot of, like, modern stuff so you have to order it on the Internet, which is spotty at best and nonexisting at worse, and it takes a while to get here and... look, my point is, I know where they're coming from, okay? But really, it's not so bad here. There's little traffic since everything's so close, you can get pretty much everywhere just by walking. I like taking long walks, charting an itinerary in my head, from home to the grocery store to school and all the way back again. It's a nice, relaxing feeling to see all the houses and places I know by heart slowly drift into and out of my view. I've written some of my best poems that way. ...that being said, I am considering moving out. If I manage to keep my grades up, I could qualify for a couple of scholarship for some colleges not too far from here. As much as I kind of like this town, I can walk anywhere, at the end of the day, and I gotta start thinking about my future. No matter how uneasy it makes me feel. Where in town do you go, when you have a choice? Is it all bad? No, no! As I said, I kind of like it here. It has its charm. There's the Wellington Brothers Memorial Park that's a nice enough place to sit down on a bench, look at the trees, relax. It's got this statue of two brothers, the only two people that died in this town during WW2. Mrs. Holly used it as an example of how many people died because of it, since tragedy even touched as small a community as ours. Which always sounded kind of weird to me; this place is small, but not that small. I guess we must be a statistical anomaly. Right, right, the park. I like that place, but I try to avoid to sit near the brothers' statue. Gives me the creeps. The little avenue with the trees and the cobbled road is a much better place for writing, even though I gotta hide my notebook the moment I see a classmate incoming. Who do you find yourself seeing over and over? How do you feel about them? ...look, this stays between you and me, alright? There's this goth dude, David. He's not from my class, so I don't know him very well, but he saw me write my poems. He completely snuck up on me, the creep, and must have watched me write for a while before going "Those are pretty good." Almost gave me an heart attack. Since then, he's been hanging out my usual writing spots. He at least had the decency not to reveal that poo poo to the whole school, so that's nice, I guess. At first I was afraid he would just tell everyone if I left, so I just wrote with him there. After a while it was clear that he wasn't going to, but in the meantime I had become used to his presence. Now we have a weird sort of relationship; we don't talk much, in fact he makes a point of pretending I don't exist at school (what, afraid that your goth crew isn't going to like your token vanilla acquaintance, David?) but every Tuesday we meet at the park, we watch the trees, I write and he offers commentary. He has an eye for metric, even though his imagery is so goddamn morbid. God, he's so weird. Why can't you get any sleep any more? What kind of dreams do you have? Sometimes, I dream I am walking in a swamp of some sort. It's hard to walk and it's even harder to breathe; the air is hot and thick, and filled with the buzzing of insects. The ground is soft and muddy, I sink into it up to the knees but I can't stop walking, something else that's even worse is following me, and no matter how hard it is, how much I get dirty and anxious and asphyxiated I can't stop. Sometimes I start having trouble breathing before I even get to bed; my parents are starting to worry that I am somehow developping asthma. quote:The Beloved paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 13:09 on Jun 29, 2016 |
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Jun 28, 2016 18:06
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Gonna withdraw my app, sorry!
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Jul 3, 2016 20:48
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Well, it seems like interest in this is insufficient to generate a larger pool of players, so without further ado or application-processing, the applications that are still in -- Kent Mason, Elaine Beatrice Sellows and Sterling Seinfield -- are all accepted. Feel free to begin working out your bonds amongst yourselves, and tell me two things: a place in town you can't bring yourself to go any more, and name someone you dislike, and explain why.
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Jul 4, 2016 03:19
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Kent Mason You’ve been suffering for someone else’s sake. You take a bond on them, and they take a bond on you. Something about Sterling reminds me of my son, so I've been going to bat for him among the faculty and the jocks who'd normally be on him like white on rice. Hard enough keeping them from hazing one another let alone ganging up on kids who can't fight back. Anyway, it's gotten a lot of them playing for outside sports teams, non school related, which means I don't have many to coach, so my budget shrinks. Doesn't matter to me, the point of school is to educate, and kids need to learn how not to be bullies. If the other teachers don't want to get their hands dirty I will. You’re a doormat, even if you try to pretend you’re not. Everyone takes a bond on you. A place in town you can't bring yourself to go any more. The graveyard. I pay for someone else to lay the flowers, I can't go place them anymore without lying down wishing I were in the coffin with them. The nightmares flare up, all I want to do is drink in silence, no matter the time. Call in sick. Even thinking about it right now is hard. Someone you dislike, and explain why. Elroy, Eckhart's old man. Runs a bar himself, if you can call it that. He comes over to his son's, drinks for free, and makes a scene about how his son thinks he's better than his father. Tries to start a fight. Eckhart pays for a taxi at the end of the night. That Elroy, he's a goddamn disgrace, and I've half a mind to do something about it. Eckhart tells me to mind my business. It ain't right for a father to fight being outgrown, try to drag their kid down to their level. If it were my son, I'd have done the right thing. Been proud. Be working for him, if he'd let me. Or at least stay out of his way and let him thrive, just be there if he needs to fall back to something safe and familiar. If I had a chance... slydingdoor fucked around with this message at 04:51 on Jul 4, 2016 |
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Jul 4, 2016 04:33
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Poltergrift posted:Well, it seems like interest in this is insufficient to generate a larger pool of players, so without further ado or application-processing, the applications that are still in -- Kent Mason, Elaine Beatrice Sellows and Sterling Seinfield -- are all accepted. Feel free to begin working out your bonds amongst yourselves, and tell me two things: a place in town you can't bring yourself to go any more, and name someone you dislike, and explain why. Elaine Beatrice Sellows You’re not a friendly person. When others determine their relationships, you reduce the number of bonds you take on them, and the number they take on you, by one. I have questions about this. Does this impact the bonds from the secondary relationship move for this class? Someone treated you like a real human being, and you won’t betray their kindness. They take three bonds on you. I was already tired, worn and out of anti-depressants when I first showed up in this town. I had trouble making my deposit on that box I call a home, so I ended up staying the first few nights in my car until I could get my rear end in a top hat ex-husband to unfreeze our joint account. Kent Mason, a local, saw me sleeping in my pickup at Teddy's Gas and I... I treated him like poo poo. Cold and unappreciative the whole time he offered help, but he saw through my reluctance and insisted I stay at his home, nothing creepy or inappropriate. Just genuine kindness. It was only a night, but in spite of my shortcomings, he cared enough to offer up his home to an ungrateful stranger. I still see him around from time to time, and I do what I can to muster up a smile. A place in town you can't bring yourself to go any more Before I got my job working at the glass plant, I applied to work the assembly line at an automotive parts manufacturer. Both lines of work far from my old cushioned office job, but I needed money sooner than later, and this town didn't have a lot to offer. I had found the listing for the factory job posted up at Elroy's by the bathroom, and went the next morning to check it out. A single, faded yellow, station wagon with the faux wood paneling was in the parking lot. It didn't look like the place had been operational in years, but that bastard Elroy swore some guy placed the help listing in the bar a week ago. Despite, the niggling sensation that I should get the gently caress out of there, I decided to check it out so I went in. Nothing was in production. A thick layer of dust coated most of the machinery and when the wind blew, the entire building seemed to shake and creak. I was just about to turn right back around to leave, when a nervous sounding man called out to me. Lanky and tall with deep sunken in eyes, he gazed at me. He wore a tan overcoat that draped over his wiry frame as he approached. As he got closer I could smell sweat on him, but it smelled rotten and sweet like molding fruit. He told me he was going to restore the factory to working order, he just needed some willing workers. He promised good compensation and reasonable hours, but nothing at all seemed right about the situation, and his fingers... they were caked with grime. I politely declined and got the hell out of there. I still pass it by sometimes on my way to work. That station wagon is usually there, sometimes the lights are on, but nothing is built there. No one goes there. name someone you dislike, and explain why After I had got settled in, I saw it fit to do a little celebrating. Not really one for people, I thought I'd at least make the effort. I went to the only salon in town, got my hair and nails done. I felt pampered and for the first time in a long time, I felt human. Pretty and alive. Those feelings were far and few between since the divorce, and even when I was married, I seldom felt acknowledged... I thought I'd try my hand at socializing, getting acquainted in an unfamiliar place and trying to make friends, so I found a listing for a book club at the library. I don't remember what they were reading... some trashy unrequited love story with a hunky protagonist. It was a long and tedious read that dredged up feelings I really hadn't reconciled yet, and still haven't, but I wanted to belong. I needed to fit in. So I tore through the book, and baked some cookies, grabbed a cheap bottle of wine, and went to Margaret Vickers's home. She organized the weekly meet ups and the women would get together, discussing whatever book they were working on for the week, discussing plot points and symbolism over baked treats and wine. It seemed idyllic, however it was anything but that. Margaret welcomed me in, and I offered her my baked goods and wine, which she sat near the garbage in her kitchen. I got seated with the other women and took a glass of champagne to ease my nerves, but the women weren't interested in the book, they weren't interested in getting to know me, it was a crucible. Question after loving question about what was wrong with me. I knew gossip traveled fast in small towns, but they basically laid out my life like I wasn't even there, and Margaret just sat back grinning, one leg hooked over another with a sardonic smile, chiming in to cut me off and ask sarcastic questions. It was an interrogation, and I just... I just sat there for the full hour. Answering their questions like some war criminal. Awkwardly defending myself against chide remarks and judgments from a group of women who had no idea what it was like to be me, what I had gone through. I'd mark them all down on my poo poo list, but Margaret. That smile of hers... someone should cut it from her smug little face. Anomalous Amalgam fucked around with this message at 04:09 on Jul 6, 2016 |
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Jul 4, 2016 05:46
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So I am in a bit of a situation. Both players have made adult characters, and mine is an high schooler. What's worse, the relationships for my playbook are as follows: You’ve kept your distance, and that makes people curious. You take one bond on everyone. You’re convinced someone is interested in you. You take one bond on them, and they take one bond on you. You’re afraid of what someone might do. They take two bonds on you, and you take a bond on them. Yeah. I imagine you can see where I am going with this. Needless to say I will have my character be near the end of high school, so he's at least 18, but still, I don't want to creep anyone out nor make anyone uncomfortable, so I want to ask right away: is everyone okay with the situation? I don't intend to word these bonds in the romantic sense, but I'd prefer to ask now rather than later. e: I should probably use an NPC for the "interested" one. paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 11:30 on Jul 4, 2016 |
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Jul 4, 2016 11:24
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None of those bonds need be romantically or sexually charged. I promise you Kent will not be that kind of interested in Sterling–ever. I don't think it's much to ask Anomalous Amalgam to promise the same of Elaine. No one's going to make it weird. Pretty sure starting bonds are between PCs only, too.
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Jul 4, 2016 15:02
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Yeah, I'm thinking this might indicate that -- a la MH -- I should explicitly say that PCs should share the same general age range, so that this exact situation becomes a nonissue. Also, the Disturbed's three bonds are unaffected by their reducing-bonds background, which I'm thinking might be too strong -- might replace it with something like "you declare your relationships last, and you can negate one background move when it's applied to you." Thoughts?
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Jul 4, 2016 16:44
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I don't think the age range thing is necessary. We have a perfectly fine ersatz nuclear family thing going on.
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Jul 4, 2016 16:58
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I agree, nothing should be weird nor does it have to be. As far as the bonds go, I'd be fine with your revision or even a reduction in the number that particular move assigns.
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Jul 4, 2016 16:58
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I'm not 100% sold on that. I think part of the Disturbed's deal is that they are very much isolated with a single bridge to the rest of the world: this is expressed better the way that playbook is now than in the version you are considering. The flipside of this is that as much as the isolated weirdo is a more fascinating character concept, at least IMHO, maybe someone so light on bonds might be at a major disadvantage, too big to compensate with a single huge bond. I guess what I'm saying is, let's see if it works this way, if a single huge bond can keep Elaine afloat by itself. If the general impression is that it doesn't, consider changing it. In the meantime, should I go ahead, make the bonds and keep them platonic for now?
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Jul 4, 2016 17:04
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paradoxGentleman posted:I guess what I'm saying is, let's see if it works this way, if a single huge bond can keep Elaine afloat by itself. If the general impression is that it doesn't, consider changing it. Fair enough. Although, if you want the "virgin" part of Virtue's Last Reward to come into play, you're probably going to want to attach one non-platonic bond to an appropriate NPC, or else choose a different definition of purity.
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Jul 4, 2016 17:11
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Bonds aren't even necessarily friendly or affectionate are they? "Platonic" seems like a poor word to describe them in general. I know there are horror movies without any romantic subplots. Where the protagonist is attempting to solve the mystery of the killer before they themselves are killed, there are plenty of times the ghost wasn't and never becomes attracted to the protagonist. That's where this game is meant to go–PCs will die and and become ghosts who use their bonds to do things. These ghosts shouldn't have to have either platonic or romantic bonds in order to use their moves. One of the things that drew me to this game is how little it had to do with sex compared to some other PbtA games. There's one mention of it in the whole book unless the Beloved chooses their virginity to be the way they're pure. Other than that book, none of them are defined mechanically by what happens when they have sex, and that makes sense in the genre: sex is risky, and a good way for character to get themselves killed. I'd just define bonds to nip this kind of awkwardness in the bud. Basically, I think this is easily resolved, and you guys made it weird 
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Jul 4, 2016 17:43
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I'm a bit attached to the "virgin" thing, so I think I'll follow your advice. You’ve kept your distance, and that makes people curious. You take one bond on everyone. Everyone just assumes that because I'm a guy, I'm always thinking about... that. I can't say that I've been tutoring a girl in math without my friends hollering like a bunch of baboons that someone threw a banana to. (I also can't eat bananas in front of them without getting an even ruder reaction.) Why am I even still hanging out with these guys? We're almost 19 and they haven't matured one day since they were 14. God. It's not even a big deal. You’re convinced someone is interested in you. You take one bond on them, and they take one bond on you. ...that being said, they might be onto something when it comes to Cassie. She regularly aces science tests but she insists that she needs my math tutoring. And she's really friendly with me. I mean, really friendly. On top of that, once I've heard her whisper to a friend about a "math project", and they both giggled, and I could have sworn she was looking at me but quickly averted her eyes. I'm probably just worrying over nothing. Letting myself get psyched out by my classmates. Yeah, that's it. You’re afraid of what someone might do. They take two bonds on you, and you take a bond on them. Everyone knows that Ms. Sellows can regularly be found at Elroy's getting shitfaced drunk. I've also heard rumors that she also buys a lot of medicine... the sort of medicine that numb your senses at best and knock you out for four hours at worst. And of course, nobody does anything to help her out, they just condemn her lifestyle and talke behind her back. I wish I could help her some way before she does something unfixable, but how are you supposed to help someone you don't even know? Why isn't there a social worker in this podunk town? Someone you dislike, and explain why Paul Becker, one of my classmates. He's a self-aggrandizing crock of poo poo that brags about how he's banged half the school and insists on sharing the nasty details of his experiences whenever someone mentions a girl for any reason at all. Everyone knows that he's fibbing but they think he's God's gift to comedy, so good luck getting him to stop. He gets regularly beaten up by boyfriends and brothers of the girls he talks about (and in one memorable occasion by Theresa Falconer, who's the captain of the weight throwing team and built like a wardrobe) but there's just no stopping him. He loves the attention too much. A place in town you can't bring yourself to go any more I once let my friends talk me into going to a clandestine party in the gymnasium. They snuck in a bunch of speakers somehow and enough alcohol to put half the local bars out of business. God, it was like something out of a nightmare. The flashing lights, the loud music, the crawling mass of bodies that filled the place... it was like something out of a nightmare. I can't believe there are people who go to places like that for fun. Now every time I pass in front of the gymnasium late at night, I walk quickly. I can still handle being in there during the day, but I don't think I could at night.
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Jul 4, 2016 18:37
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Edited in my last question and I think I'm good to go on bonds.
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Jul 6, 2016 04:10
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If I am not mistaken our bonds situation is as follows: Sterling has bonds over: -Kent (3) -Elaine (1) -Cassie the NPC (1) Kent has bonds over: -Elaine (3) -Sterling (1) Elaine has bonds over: -Sterling (1)
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Jul 6, 2016 11:46
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Thread's up.
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Jul 7, 2016 06:38
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Hey Polter, I think something's missing from my latest prompt.quote:We go in, get a close look, walk through and out the back and let Rather take it up with the manager if he wants, hey?" I assume something about screwing over a fellow human being is missing there, right? paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 09:03 on Jul 8, 2016 |
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Jul 8, 2016 08:06
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paradoxGentleman posted:I assume something about screwing over a fellow human being is missing there, right? That's certainly the implication, to a greater or lesser extent, yeah.
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Jul 8, 2016 18:58
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I somehow failed to realize that Rather was the name of the sheriff. Sorry about that.
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Jul 8, 2016 21:02
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I'm kind of at a loss for how I can reinsert my character back into the scene naturally, without being some drunk weirdo chastising a teenager for getting involved with a crime scene. Do Kent and I just go our own way? Looking for suggestions. I haven't forgot about this game, I want to make sure we get to the meat of it. 
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Jul 15, 2016 04:32
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Anomalous Amalgam posted:I'm kind of at a loss for how I can reinsert my character back into the scene naturally, without being some drunk weirdo chastising a teenager for getting involved with a crime scene. S'fine by me; this scene is mostly just to establish setting facts before the first night.
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Jul 15, 2016 07:15
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I was sort of trying to draw the curtain over this scene as well. Gimme a quick exposition on why the Chinese restaurant is important and I'm ready to meet our killer.
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Jul 15, 2016 08:25
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So, it's been a while since there have been any news regarding this game. Has something happened? Is the game on hiatus or abandoned?
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Jul 22, 2016 11:19
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Mea culpa; will attempt to have prompts up either tonight or tomorrow.
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Jul 24, 2016 03:35
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| # ? Apr 26, 2024 15:29 |
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hooray
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Jul 24, 2016 03:42
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