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This is the 'IC thread' for a Microscope game. This post contains the overview of the history; further posts will contain Scenes, which will be linked here in case you want to read through the history in chronological order. The OOC thread for the game is here. Seating order: Abyssal Squid - FredMSloniker - A RICH WHITE MAN - EclecticTastes - Abyssal Squid. The name to the left of yours is the person 'seated' to your left; the name to the right of yours is the person 'seated' to your right. The Big Picture: A city adapts, and at times fails to adapt, to the changing world around it. Palette:
Current Focus: The Doomsday Prophets. Timeline:
FredMSloniker fucked around with this message at 20:22 on Dec 14, 2014 |
# ? Dec 5, 2014 08:12 |
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# ? Apr 25, 2024 16:29 |
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e: whoops!
A RICH WHITE MAN fucked around with this message at 04:21 on Dec 10, 2014 |
# ? Dec 10, 2014 01:44 |
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Scene: Why did the Yalmita Inn really burn down? Dramatis Personae:
Yalmita Inn, one hour before dawn The inn is bursting at the seams tonight, one of dozens of doomsday parties across the City only having gotten rowdier as the night wore on and the crowd got drunker. Many of the people present believe the words of the Prophets, that the dawn will bring cleansing fire to sweep across the land and wash away the sinners. Most of them don't expect to survive that fire and are celebrating one last hurrah. As for those who don't believe, despite the Prophets never being wrong before... well, a party's a party. And Kevan's throwing a pretty good party. "Excuse please. Pardon. Pardon Kevan. Excuse please." He winds through the party, his long, lean form serving him well in that regard, distributing drinks and food as swiftly as he can. Most of the help is off partying elsewhere in the City, praying for redemption, or hoping to flee the cataclysm. Kevan doesn't know, and Kevan doesn't care, except that it leaves him to try to manage the chaos himself. At least there's a City guardsman here, for what that's worth, one guard versus however many drunk patrons convinced they have nothing to lose. And at least they're still friendly. For now. "Where is worthless entertainer?" he grumbles to himself as he fights his way back to the bar. Despite living in the City all his life, his Common is strongly flavored with Koboldtongue accent. Some think it's an act he puts on, playing up the 'simple kobold' stereotype. Most don't think about it at all. A distant clock tower chimes. One hour until dawn. One hour until judgement day. The crowd's fervor ratchets up another notch. Kevan absently licks his eyeball. He does that when he's nervous. He's been doing it a lot tonight. IC stuff is plaintext, short OOC stuff is italics. Take longer OOC stuff to the OOC thread.
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# ? Dec 14, 2014 20:21 |
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Sergeant Glubgork - Yalmita Inn, one hour before dawn Things were not looking good. The mood of the crowd was changing, becoming more anxious, and less festive, as they awaited their collective doom. The first signs of this were subtle, but years of experience as a guardsman had taught Glubgork to read people; from his vantage point at the top of the stairs, he could read them all. Things were bad. He was alone, massively outnumbered, and when this powder keg went off--it was no longer, he was sure, a matter of if--he did not like his chances of restoring order all on his lonesome. He'd sent Katiya for reinforcements an hour ago, and she had yet to return. A bad sign; she was a capable guard--as capable as they came, really--but with chaos breaking out all over the city, reinforcement had always been a long shot. No, things were not looking good at all. And so, refusing to simply stand by and watch all hell break lose, the massive orc took action. Pulling free the ram's horn trumpet at his side, he sucked in a deep breath, and blew mightily through it. As the eyes of the crowd turned to him, he lowered the horn. "BY THE AUTHORITY OF THE CITY GUARD, ALL CITIZENS ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO DISPERSE, AND RETURN TO THEIR HOMES!"
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# ? Dec 14, 2014 23:27 |
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Wheezy Grikk - Yalmita Inn, one before dawn Several hours ago, Grikk had jostled his way through the crowd into the inn. Most of the revelry was still in the streets, the only people inside at the moment were those who were resting their legs from dancing, or grabbing more refreshments, as the street vendors ran out a few hours prior. His telltale wheezing got the attention of the savvier patrons, who quickly made their way out, the remainder proving ignorant to Grikk's profession, not everyone was privy to the Mah'feeya. Fortunately, there weren't any guards around, probably wouldn't be until the party came indoors. He located the owner, and approached him. "Kevan, my good gum'bah, *wheeze* I hear yer plannin' a little shindig pretty soon. Parties are pretty expensive, y'know? *wheeze* So's the boss got ta thinkin', if youse got the money to cater to a buncha loons thinkin' the world's comin' to an end, you gotta have the money you owe 'im. Now, maybe you think the world's endin', too, I tells him. So, he tells me, you got until dawn to produce his money, *wheeze* or I get to make sure your exit is a bit more painful than everyone else's. Kah'peesh?" Grikk was in no mood for games, half the gang had bailed, raving about the end times, and his boss was counting on him to make this guy pay up tonight. The response he'd gotten was hardly acceptable. Now, Grikk was forced to sit in the middle of a throng of drunken idiots dancing like there was no tomorrow, literally! Kevan had told him he'd somehow make enough to pay off his debts from the party, which was about as likely as this supposed apocalypse actually happening. Grikk told him that the insurance policy on the inn was still good, and worth just enough to pay off his debt, but he didn't think the little iguana was gonna be too cooperative on that front. So, now Grikk has to do things the hard way. In the last couple hours, he'd rounded up what muscle remained in the gang, and now they're waiting outside for Kevan to stumble out. As for Grikk himself, he gets the dubious honor of torching the place. He has to make sure Kevan's still alive to collect the insurance money (his legs don't need to be intact, though), and now there's a town guard hanging around. A guy like Grikk, spotted by a guard around the time a "mysterious" fire breaks out? Grikk has enough trouble breathing easily without a hemp necktie cutting off airflow. The entertainer's a goblin, spotted him walking back in after his little trip getting the boys prepped. Might be worth talking to him about making a distraction. Goblins tended to stick together, it was necessary to handle the bigger people. Grikk wouldn't be surprised if the guy agreed to do it just for the satisfaction of making the big pah'luka sweat, but it'd be poor form not to slip him some coin for his assistance. He approached him after he made his little announcement "Hey, pi'zann! How's it goin'? Yer the entertainment, right? *wheeze* I'm, uh, havin' a bit of trouble, and could use some help from a goblin of your skills. Any way you could lend a, uh, 'fellow goblin' a hand?" Grikk adjusted his tie, the way he emphasized "fellow goblin" was a well-known euphemism in the community, no need to hide his affiliation from one of his own people. EclecticTastes fucked around with this message at 22:25 on Dec 19, 2014 |
# ? Dec 15, 2014 02:55 |
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Chuppy Charf - Yalmita Inn, one hour before dawn The last pageant and baptismal ritual had taken longer than expected, leaving Chuppy Charf drenched with sweat and none too pleased, and the stream of revelers leaving the inn only made things worse. Still, he put his best face forward and muscled his way through the door. "Oh no no no, ladies and gentlemen, don't leave now, our pageant is just about to begin! Chuppy Charf with the Forever Players, here to salve everyone here on your last night on this world! Excuse me, please make room for my companions and our gear." He gestured to Jermy and Moggen, costumed as the evil troll Huug and his benevolent sister Baag, respectively, hauling a small wagon filled with props, costumes, and musical instruments; Chuppy himself was dressed as the dragon Altraka, the Mother of the World-Egg. While his companions unpacked on the stage (shrugging off abuse from Seargeant Glubgork), Chuppy announced the program as he strode up to Kevan, jumped onto the counter, and kissed the innkeep's fuzzy cheeks. "Kevan it's so wonderful of you to have us, for our last performance!" He whistled sharply for everyone's attention. "Now, the Forever Players are stretched a bit thin tonight, as you might imagine, so we'll need some audience members to play in our pageant. Naturally we're performing The Hatching of the World-Egg, so the parts should all be familiar. Come up front and claim a role, and Jermy and Moggen will get you costumed up!" Fortunately, none of the unfilled roles had more than a few lines. Feel free to take up a role in the pageant, or just leave it to background characters if you'd prefer.
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# ? Dec 16, 2014 05:24 |
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# ? Apr 25, 2024 16:29 |
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A RICH WHITE MAN posted:"BY THE AUTHORITY OF THE CITY GUARD, ALL CITIZENS ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO DISPERSE, AND RETURN TO THEIR HOMES!" The assembled crowd is silent. For exactly one second. "Eh, so's yer old man!" one of the revelers yells, sauced to the point that he thinks this is a witty retort. Most of the rest of the crowd, either at a similar level of inebriation or just inclined to thumb their noses at authority, let out a raucous mixture of laughter, jeers, cheers, and shouts, and launch right back into their revelry. Those few inclined to be law-abiding, or just broke or otherwise willing to leave anyway, find their exit blocked by the Forever Players and are jollied back into the inn. Four hours ago... EclecticTastes posted:"Kevan, my good gum'bah, *wheeze* I hear yer plannin' a little shindig pretty soon. Parties are pretty expensive, y'know? *wheeze* So's the boss got ta thinkin', if youse got the money to cater to a buncha loons thinkin' the world's comin' to an end, you gotta have the money you owe 'im. Now, maybe you think the world's endin', too, I tells him. So, he tells me, you got until dawn to produce his money, *wheeze* or I get to make sure your exit is a bit more painful than everyone else's. Kah'peesh?" Kevan smiles sadly at Grikk, tail swaying as he leans against the bar. "Such nasty threats from goblin! No need to be mean to Kevan. Kevan is getting much money from party." He gestures at the bar, shifting easily into a reassuring grin. "Kevan will be sure to give nice goblins everything they deserve right on time!" Not that he expects to actually have the money. The revelers are spending freely, but a single night's profits aren't going to be enough to offset the mountain of debt he's gotten into over the years, largely due to his carelessness getting into debt with the Mah'feeya in the first place. Still, he has until dawn, and miracles do happen. And if they don't... well, he has plans. Now... Kevan is startled by Chuppy's kisses, but grins nonetheless. "Is good to see you!" Finally. "Kevan is busy with foods and drinks, but maybe nice goblin will help you?" And he points right at Grikk.
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# ? Dec 19, 2014 21:26 |