Register a SA Forums Account here!
JOINING THE SA FORUMS WILL REMOVE THIS BIG AD, THE ANNOYING UNDERLINED ADS, AND STUPID INTERSTITIAL ADS!!!

You can: log in, read the tech support FAQ, or request your lost password. This dumb message (and those ads) will appear on every screen until you register! Get rid of this crap by registering your own SA Forums Account and joining roughly 150,000 Goons, for the one-time price of $9.95! We charge money because it costs us money per month for bills, and since we don't believe in showing ads to our users, we try to make the money back through forum registrations.
 
  • Post
  • Reply
Crazycryodude
Aug 15, 2015

Lets get our X tons of Duranium back!

....Is that still a valid thing to jingoistically blow out of proportion?


A

Gotta get those monies somehow

Adbot
ADBOT LOVES YOU

The Wandering Mage
Jul 22, 2010
A The employees seem to be taking your orders from you here and now, but there's no guarantees that starting a new business with the same product elsewhere will yield the same results. You're definitely more of a turnkey investor as well. Time to get some monogrammed towels and a tiki drink stand.

Jvie
Aug 10, 2012

The voting Eventuality Election is over. The System thanks you for your contributions so far.

Jvie
Aug 10, 2012





First things first, negotiating with the nearest town for property rights. It wasn't a big settlement, but they had a court house, more or less legit looking, even if the paint was still wet.
When you told them that the area you had your eyes on was located in 'Fee-verland' the whole assembly burst into laughter, and they kept laughing for a long time. Also they called you insane. In the end you got the deed for dirt cheap. Score!



A: Set up shop here - Was chosen



---


Some time later....


---



The resort has been a HUGE success!!! It took a while to get the word out there, but now you're booked to the brim! You've had to house people in tents to fit everyone in! Its great!









The money just keeps rolling in! Ah, sweet success, it is all going even better than you had dared to hope. Though, its not all smooth sailing, you admit. Most of the guests are happy, but every now and then you do get some problem people. Unreasonably agitated customers that are a pain to deal with, calling the resort "cursed", and that they are "deathly afraid of the thing in the basement", can you believe it? No you can not. That's frankly just plain silly. You never built a basement.
Another annoyance is that you're still getting letters addressed to the previous owner, mostly from someone called Skritch. You'd complain to the post office, if such an institution existed here, but it does not. You've no idea who is even delivering the letters, but they keep coming and you keep dumping them in the privy. Aside from that, life is great! Everything is going well.

---















Phew, running a business sure takes a lot out of you. You could use a good night's sleep. Yeah. A good, long, dreamless slumber. A real sleep.


But not yet.


You still have work to do, new pools to build, more events to plan. Running a resort, you quite ironically never have the time for a vacation yourself.



Not until you've made your onew trillion monies.

Jvie
Aug 10, 2012

The fliers show up from time to time. Who puts them up, no one seems to know. No one could actually be coming from there to deliver advertisements. The faeverland is not a place people return from.
Yet the rumors persist. Tales of a bizarre building amidst the faengi, of strange creatures and outlandish celebrations. The Fowlspring Spa promises comforts out of this world for any who desire them.

If you can afford the price.

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.



1C. Blink tries to hold on posted:

Blink fought back against the numbing terror of the moment, sought to hold himself together even as he watched others drift apart, motes of silver light careening out to ping off buildings and into the sky. Eventually it wasn’t fear that gripped him, but a sense of dissociation. His shape, his body, his connection to the physical world, suddenly seemed like a vessel his real self had been poured into - and he felt that self begin to leak. The more he tried to hold on, the more it seemed to slip between his fingers, and as it escaped, he began to feel outside himself.

The boundaries of his physical form grey hazier, and Blink began to sense things his disparate essence brushed across. The texture of the dinostone cobble; the deep bond between the Dinosaur and Pinball Peoples; the fear and confusion even among the People of the Axe; the strangeness that was the small fraction of Pinball matter present in all Peoples, whatever their provenance, effervescing and mingling with the rest flowing into the Ocean. Pinball was everywhere, part of everything - and now it was going. Now Blink was going.

Now it was gone. Now he was gone.

quote:

Pinball has Broken. All Plungerboa, living or dead, vanish, leaving nothing behind but memories.


Bulb Paints! posted:

Bulb painted, wholly enraptured. Her strokes, fueled by a mad desire to capture the essence of the fading Plungerboa, became a chaotic symphony of colors and textures. As the wire holding her bristles together sifted away, she switched tools, improvising in the face of disintegration. The unsteady perch only added to the urgency of her artistic frenzy.

In the swirl of cosmic chaos, Bulb felt a perverse satisfaction in the act of creation amid destruction. She laughed, her voice edged with jagged hysteria, as if the very act of painting was an act of defiance against the unraveling reality. Each stroke became a gesture of resistance against the fading memories of a once-vibrant People.

As the Pinball-based pigment boiled away, Bulb's mind settled on a revelation. She switched paint, adapting to the limitations imposed by the unraveling world. The very missing color, the loss, became the focal point of her composition—a metaphor for the fading Plungerboa and their foundation material dissolving into the void. Using the five remaining colors as a metaphor for the materials that endured, Bulb sought to encapsulate the essence of what was lost, attempting to describe something that slipped away using only what remained.

The canvas became a tapestry of paradoxical beauty—a reflection of the chaotic dance of destruction and creation. Bulb's artistic endeavor, a futile attempt to grasp the intangible, mirrored the essence of the unraveling worlds. In the final moments before the cataclysmic end, her brush danced with both madness and purpose, etching the fading memory of the Plungerboa onto canvas before at last she leapt free of the collapsing structure.

DECIDE posted:

Bulb paints “Elegy of the Void” and signs it at some point during the Breaking Tilt. It is found securely fastened to a fragment of the Flickerfare, removed carefully, and put in a place of honour in Ateluer, site of the Hero Noble’s former workshop. The artist is never heard from again on Twomb, and is presumed Stranded.


3D. Skritch experiments on himself. posted:

Skritch turned his mad alchemy on himself, and the Hollow House bent to his needs. Mirrors, tools, lights… bandages, ointments… donors… the House walked blindly the path that was its purpose, to house those in need. And Skritch had a great, abiding need - survival! He would not Break, even if it meant a lesser breaking was needed. He tore at his own essence, cursing that his sequestration here prevented his access to the mysteries of the Fractal Garden. The undying things down there could… if only… the Gods… he just needed to…

He laid Ink bare, flensing himself to gain a deeper understanding of his basest matter. Imprinting, Staining, and the long-lost Obfuscation… and this straggling jury-rig of an Aspect, Invisibility. It wasn’t real in the way the others were real, and yet it was a template of something. Ink could be touched, affected, corrupted, modified, if only by the hands of the Gods. If the Gods could do it, why not him? Not with their elegance, perhaps, but with trial and error… and error… and error… AND ERROR AND ERROR AND ERROR AND

He turned before an Ice-smooth mirror, looking at himself. It hurt. He hurt. He had hurt others, in pursuit of this pain. In pursuit of this path. A means to keep himself whole, while the world fell to pieces. Until the very end! Until the very concept of Aspects was reduced to nothing. He would persist! He would survive! And he would not BREAK!

quote:

Skritch performs the strange alchemy of Extencil, allowing him to replace his personal lost Aspects with those of other Peoples. In so doing, he becomes something less than a Squild - or something more.

4B. People drew together, seeking the connection between eachother.[/quote posted:

The worlds were bleeding, but they weren’t dead. The survivors of the Breaking Tilt, irrespective of origin or species, found solace in the shared sorrow that bound them. In the ruins of once-prosperous cities and the desolate landscapes carved by the cosmic upheaval, new communities emerged. The Asaurted wept alongside the Stranded from Twomb, and the Aardiche, once bound by the hollowness within, discovered the healing balm of unity.

The scars of the Great War, once looming large in the collective consciousness, now became reminders of a bygone era. As the survivors gathered in the shadow of the papercut scar left by the Artifact Blade, they began to understand that the true strength of their worlds lay in the connections forged in the aftermath of devastation. The triviality of past conflicts became starkly apparent, and the resolve to build a different future took root. The aching loss of the Plungerboa burned, but life would continue for those who survived, as it had to.

In these months and years of rebuilding, the Peoples of Nowhere forged bonds that transcended the superficial differences that once fueled strife. The lesson learned was not one of power or conquest but of the resilience born from shared suffering. Cities that stood as monuments to unity rose from the debris, and the trajectory of the united Peoples of Nowhere, though forever altered, bore the promise of a collective destiny shaped by cooperation and compassion. The legacy of the Breaking Tilt became a testament to the strength found in the connections between hearts, a poignant reminder that, even in the face of cosmic dissolution, the bonds of community could prevail. For now, at least.

quote:

The cultures, cities, and locations of both worlds shift dramatically due to the upheaval of the worlds, the damage to the Flickerfare and the shared trauma from all of the above.


5C. Pindiana seeks the Depths of the Fractal Garden. posted:

In the shadowy depths of the sea of Ink, Pindiana Tones delved with his submersible - an adventure unto itself - into the forbidden and mysterious Fractal Garden, an ancient realm teeming with the remnants of forgotten horrors and the echoes of cosmic secrets. The cold, darkest Ink enveloped Pindiana as they ventured deeper into the twisted heart of this enigmatic sanctuary. The whispers of the remnant Sisters Myriad reverberated through the aqueous darkness, their haunting voices promising both knowledge and peril.

As Pindiana navigated the twisted pathways of the Fractal Garden, they encountered the monstrous Krakink, leviathans in darkness. The creatures regarded Pindiana with inscrutable eyes, their Ink-branded hides pulsating with the memories of ancient creations. The dark beasts, recognizing the seeker's resilience, revealed fragments of forgotten truths etched into their very essence.

The Devouring One, guardian of the Garden, pulsed from the shadows, calm demeanor contrasting sharply with its fierce territoriality. Pindiana, unyielding in their quest, earned the creature's reluctant respect as they ventured further into the heart of the fractal tapestry. He meant no harm to Garden - not that he could do anything to the semi-divine immensity - and so it allowed him to pass with little more than a mortal promise of terror. The Lestattoo were of significantly more concern. Vampiric beings driven by hunger and madness, they lurked in the periphery, their eyes gleaming with an insatiable desire.

Pindiana, confronted by the chaotic dance of creatures both ancient and mutated, pressed on in their odyssey. The Garden unfolded its secrets like layers of an ancient manuscript, revealing the intricate connection between the cosmic balance disrupted by the intertwining destinies of Oneder and Twomb. In the midst of this arcane tapestry, Pindiana glimpsed the delicate dance of the Lestattoo, suspended between sanity and madness, their vampiric hunger driving them to the brink.

As the echoes of the Garden whispered cryptic truths, Pindiana felt the weight of impending cataclysm grow more palpable. With each step, they tread on the precipice between knowledge and peril, bound by an unwavering resolve to uncover the secrets that lay hidden in the depths of the Fractal Garden. The journey, fraught with danger and revelations, echoed the very essence of Pinball itself—a delicate balance between skill and chance in the cosmic game of existence.

In the end, they were alone in the depths when the Tilt struck. Every instinct pushed them towards the surface, but their submersible was bound in rings of Pinball - it peeled apart around them, and they was immersed in darkest Ink. The Lestattoo took them, surrounding him and pulling him apart - and he didn’t resist. The essence of him - not his Material, but his spirit, his innate drive for adventure, his charm and his humour - flooded into the Lestattoo and they began to rlive his memories. Days under an unfamiliar sky, in an unfamiliar world only passingly familiar to the deep-dwelling creatures, and then only second-hand. They looked up, and wondered.

quote:

Indiana falls in the depths of the Fractal Garden, passing on his spirit to the strange creatures that lurk far below...



ENGODDENING posted:

The world spins madly on. I’ll need five new Gods. Same as before, roll 1d100, only now you add you Wisp totals. Gods who joined last time may not roll (because you’re dead), and must content themselves with watching the newcomers make fools of themselves trying to get in!

Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 20:08 on Mar 15, 2024

Lux Anima
Apr 17, 2016


Dinosaur Gum
Dominemptor, God of Chain Reactions
Apotheosis: 1d100+12 73

Arcanuse
Mar 15, 2019

quote:


[Finally, a beautiful loving nerve ape squilb]
It took many, many failed attempts. But this squilb is finally starting to get it.
If none other figure out how to escape the end, this one will. That, I'm sure of.

BraveLittleToaster
May 5, 2019
Maybe I'm A God? 1d100+2? = 96

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....
Engoddening: 1d100+16 77

Slaan
Mar 16, 2009



ASHERAH DEMANDS I FEAST, I VOTE FOR A FEAST OF FLESH
Toddles, God of Children's Entertainment
A new God dododododododo?: 1d100+4 83

Jvie
Aug 10, 2012

I can feel it!!!

Its going to be a 100 this time!!!!!!

GOD: 1d100 34

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.

Jvie posted:

I can feel it!!!

Its going to be a 100 this time!!!!!!

GOD: 1d100 34

I mean currently you're in!

Chaosfeather
Nov 4, 2008

I'm happy to Abstain this time due to a busy schedule.

Aabcehmu
Apr 27, 2013

Confusion As a Natural State of Being
Not happening.

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

I mean, you're currently in the top 5.

Aabcehmu
Apr 27, 2013

Confusion As a Natural State of Being

Theantero posted:

I mean, you're currently in the top 5.

Oh, right. I thought Jvie had a 36.

Still, I'd be kind of sad if there were only six submissions.

Scribbleykins
Apr 29, 2010

Any scientist with the right background can brew his own booze.

...

What do you mean electrolytes aren't used for brewing booze? That's silly!

...

Well when all you have are chunks of TNE and an overly large water ration, all the world looks like a still!
Grimey Drawer
Might wanna extend this across the holidays then, since odds are some folks do be distracted.

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.
definitely nothing happening until new year, we have time to advertise!

The Wandering Mage
Jul 22, 2010
Rolling for godhood:

God time?: 1d100(-10+12 =)+2 98

Ooh!

Let's go for Flare, God of Heroes

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.
closing god voting on friday if anyone else else waiting on it, then starting up again next week-ish, hope y'all had good holidays

TheNabster
Apr 26, 2014

"Today I will cause problems on purpose"

Jvie posted:

I can feel it!!!

Its going to be a 100 this time!!!!!!

GOD: 1d100 34

It's dangerous to God alone

1d200+11 = 92

I don't have the space to take part myself so I'm donating this roll to Jvie

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.
THAT'S IT, RECRUITMENT CLOSED

Here's the Gods of our fifth Age!
GODS
Toddles, God of Children's Entertainment
Flare, God of Heroes
BraveLittleToaster
Theantero
Jvie

That's, like, semi-final? It's up to the winners whether they want to swap out with someone else or whatever, but otherwise we're off to the races. From Gods, I need your Icon, a figure drawn on this grid:

Pick a single colour and connect the lines however you want in a single colour with STRAIGHT lines or circle segments. No wiggly lines because I’m using a new program and I don’t know how to do that. This Icon will represent you to the People of Nowhere, so wear it proudly atop your Godly posts!

BraveLittleToaster
May 5, 2019
Hakurei, Goddess of Spirit

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....
M'eh, God of Ennui

Slaan
Mar 16, 2009



ASHERAH DEMANDS I FEAST, I VOTE FOR A FEAST OF FLESH
Toddles, God of Children's Edutainment




Can you find the GREEN SQUARE? That's right!

Can you find the RED TRIANGLE? That's right!




FYI, I already went, so if anyone still hasn't gone and didn't get in you can take my spot if you ask before the round starts!

Slaan fucked around with this message at 02:19 on Jan 13, 2024

Jvie
Aug 10, 2012

TheNabster posted:

It's dangerous to God alone

1d200+11 = 92

I don't have the space to take part myself so I'm donating this roll to Jvie

Thanks again for this!

Jvie
Aug 10, 2012



Angeliar, god of fishing


Oh wow-ie, look at the scales on this beaut'eh!!!!

The Wandering Mage
Jul 22, 2010


Flare, God of Heroes

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

The Wandering Mage posted:



Flare, God of Heroes

Actually, I'm dropping out. I refuse to be in the same Pantheon as this abomination.

The Wandering Mage
Jul 22, 2010


Got it, send it to the printers!

Scribbleykins
Apr 29, 2010

Any scientist with the right background can brew his own booze.

...

What do you mean electrolytes aren't used for brewing booze? That's silly!

...

Well when all you have are chunks of TNE and an overly large water ration, all the world looks like a still!
Grimey Drawer
Tsk. Drama Queen Theantero wins again. :colbert:

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....
Don't malign me my nature. I cannot help being so powerful.

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.

The worlds of the People cracked, bled, and were reformed from what was left in the long interval between Gods. When the barrier fell once again, the Wisps hardly recognized them. And yet it was Something, a chance to matter and to mark their existence on the uncaring blackboard of the Ocean, and so the Wisps fought and scrapped to be the first through. At last five made their presence felt, and the barrier closed in resonation. They became:

THE GODS OF THE FIFTH AGE posted:



Hakurei, Goddess of Spirit / M’eheh, God of Ennui and Idle Whim / Toddles, God of Children’s Edutainment / Angeliar, God of Fishing / Flare, God of Heroes
The People greeted them almost obsequiously, plainly stilled scarred and frightened by the Breaking of Pinball. The populations were scattered and mixed in unexpected ways, the great bridge between worlds in shambles, and the loss of one foundational Element caused the planetoids to warp and sag. And yet… and yet the Peoples lived on. Those alive had hardly any real sense of what Pinball was, after all, let alone a Plungerboa. They lived on in engravings, photographs, stories… but none of those could truly encapsulate the loss. The Peoples lived on, aching from a missing piece they couldn’t quite conceptualize.


Oneder was scarred by its loss, Pinrails and bumpers and nodules of Pinball vanished as though they’d never been. The planetoid had crumpled in on itself… and then regrown, as vegetation and natural processes reclaimed the lost spaces and niches. To look at them from the Gods’ vantage, the People seemed to be living out their lives as ever before, but the demographics were… strange. Aardiche and Squild, Asaurted and Maraqueets, all living together in a peculiar new harmony. The desecendants of visitors from Twomb, gone native on the only world they’d ever known.

For the Flickerfare, the Great Work of generations, lay in shambles. The great cables and cross bracings of the great bridge had been composed of Pinrail, and their sudden vanishment struck it a mortal wound. It still hangs there, bound by ancient Magic and intent and ludicrous, slapdash jury rigging, but a safe method of travel between worlds it most assuredly is not. The Symposium Of Elements at its terminus is much altered from its original conception by the God Tester-Of-Limits, but divine intent clung to the place, rendering it safe and neutral as intended. It has become a safe haven for the Topseekers, brave, reckless souls who brave the shattered bridge to courier information, technology, and medicine between the two tenuously bound worlds. The mechanism at the heart of the Symposium ticks on, showing the status of the remaining Elements in real time - including the harsh void of blackness that was Pinball.

Bigbox and Haft-Upon-Mattockhorn had long been the center of society on Oneder, and that, at least, remained much the same… only as time went on, and the ties between the two cities grew tighter, and the paths grew more formalized, and the Library Thesauri and the Hollow House drew more and more visitors… the distinction between them all began to matter less and less. Names for the whole urban… conglomeration were bandied about, including the particularly dreadful Onederia, but none had really stuck at the time the Gods had arrived. Whatever they called it, the great city included People of all (remaining) stripes, though naturally with a markedly higher population of Oneder native species. Magic, technology, and cultural marks of all Peoples were present at all levels of society, forming a crazed melting pot of ideas and conflicts. As a side note, perhaps related to the sudden influx of innovation and population, the crevasses beneath the city have been getting preeetty full…

Alas, progress or not, Oneder is also a fair bit more dangerous outside of city walls now than it has been in Ages. Predator beasts who lost an entire Element’s worth of prey stalk the wilderness starved, mad, and doomed. Faeverland has grown wider and wilder, with strange rumours of a mad city within its depths. The world shifts and rumbles intermittently, still settling after all these years. A goodly portion of the Ghosts of the Flickerfare went… wrong when the tower bridge shattered, and stalk the dark and hungry places of the world. In short, the return of the Gods could not have come soon enough, and the People deluge them with prayers as soon as they arrive!

The Remnants of the Gods of Before must be considered as always, and now more than ever. For something of particular potency has been found - or rather, unveiled. Some scant years before the return of the Gods, the Idol Crate-Rewards-Await began to flicker and change. Fearing some disaster, People fled - and when they returned they found it… different.

(Witness the first Eternity, Crate-Rewards-Equate! Eternities have both active uses and passive auras, both significantly stronger than any other Remnant. Time will tell how this will affect Bigbox, but odds are… pretty powerfully?)

Other, comparatively ordinary treasures arose as well. Among the Topseekers, an Artifact of surpassing limitations arose, soaring into the sky out of reach almost immediately.


In the forests of Faeverland, a strange key arose, an echo of another key from Ages past, and one with a rather more mundane use.



Twomb was a somber place, far grimmer now than in any moment in their history. Twomb had always been blessed by the Gods, a shimmering place of knowledge and science and Magic and great works - the Great Work. And now the Flickerfare jutted from the earth like a rotten tooth, broken and breaking. Sure, the efforts of their grandsires had ensured it would hold together enough that even the utter vanishing of structural elements hadn’t brought it down on their heads, but so what? What ELSE had the efforts of their grandsires wrought? A painfully short interval of direct contact between two worlds? The loss of a chunk of population to that orb in the sky as the bridge shattered? An uncertain afterlife as the bridge between life and death frayed and crumbled? People, in short, felt pretty wretched.

But here too life kept trudging along. The very few Onederian visitors from Back Before were forced to settle and make their lives as best they can, carving out an enclave among the wild icelands, exposing veins of more familiar Dinostone to build a little something like home. The natives helped them gladly, almost desperate to have a new project to take their minds off their troubles. Now, years later, the village of Rexport is a thriving little community, kept sane with a trickle of imports courtesy of the Topseekers daring the travel back and forth. Onederian stories and artifacts are all the rage on Twomb, and while each subsequent generation is further and further away from their homeland, they still work to keep the ancient rituals and tales alive.

In Rinkjet, Nylid the Ghost Hero of Bindings worked to keep things - and People - as sane as possible. In their presence, the frayed ghosts of Flickerfare were stable and hale, and so they flocked to the Library. With the spectral threads that bound the remnants of the fallen Avatar and Hero, Nylid moved among the People, offering a semblance of stability and hope. They wove stories from the tattered remnants of the past, creating a tapestry of memories and legends that spoke of resilience and continuity. The Library, now scarred by the strange radiation of the felled Avatar, became a sanctuary for those seeking refuge from the harsh realities outside.

Gathering the lost and the bored, Nylid orchestrated gatherings and events, fostering a sense of community and shared purpose. Together, they explored the depths of the written knowledge, seeking inspiration and meaning in the remnants of forgotten tales. The ghostly hero became a guiding light in the midst of the prevailing darkness, encouraging the People to find strength in unity and purpose in the pursuit of knowledge.

In the deepest depths within the Fractal Garden, the Lestattoo felt the strain of their imprisonment. Only it was a queer sort of imprisonment, with no walls to bind them in, with a jailer who wished only to care for them. The Devouring One, bound into, grown over, and an integral part of the Garden itself, clucked and tutted over them and its boundaries, leery of letting them escape into the world. But suffused with the scattered memories of Pindiana Tones, Plungerboa adventurer, the Lestattoo longed to see the things they’d only dreamt of. They hungered for it, as they hungered for all things, gnashing their fangs in the dark.

In the wreckage of the arena of Arisaurna, an Artifact was found in the rubble. It pulsed with an exciting, dangerous power:

Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 05:00 on Mar 21, 2024

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

M’eh, God of Ennui
HP: 3

Dog Kisser posted:

In Rinkjet, Nylid the Ghost Hero of Bindings worked to keep things - and People - as sane as possible. In their presence, the frayed ghosts of Flickerfare were stable and hale, and so they flocked to the Library. With the spectral threads that bound the remnants of the fallen Avatar and Hero, Nylid moved among the People, offering a semblance of stability and hope. They wove stories from the tattered remnants of the past, creating a tapestry of memories and legends that spoke of resilience and continuity. The Library, now scarred by the strange radiation of the felled Avatar, became a sanctuary for those seeking refuge from the harsh realities outside.

Gathering the lost and the bored, Nylid orchestrated gatherings and events, fostering a sense of community and shared purpose. Together, they explored the depths of the written knowledge, seeking inspiration and meaning in the remnants of forgotten tales. The ghostly hero became a guiding light in the midst of the prevailing darkness, encouraging the People to find strength in unity and purpose in the pursuit of knowledge.

It was during one such event, a hopeful sermon similar to those before it, that it could be heard. The voice of a new god.

"Mhmm...."

Followed by an awkward silence that went on for some time.

"Right, right, that is all good, yes, but like..."

"You guys know you're going to die not too far into the future, right? In an 'it's the Apocalypse and you will be gone forever' kind of sense?"

"In an 'there's going to be one, maybe two, maybe three if you're super lucky, new Ages' kind of sense?"

"Right?"

"Right, just thought you guys should maybe start to come to terms with that? Yours is a garbage reality literally coming apart at the seams yeah and I get it that kinda sucks."

"But it is what it is, you know?"

"Cannot be helped."

"No matter how much you preach."

"So just like..."

"Close your eyes, breathe in, breathe out."

"And realize that it is totally fine. All things die. Realities too."

"..."

"...Yeah."

"So like, you don't need to huddle around trying to preserve a reality that is around 80% through on its way to eternal oblivion."

"You can stop doing that and go make a sandwich or something instead."

"Shoo."



Instruct upon the people an absurdist ars moriendi to help them come to terms with the coming apocalypse: 1d20 20

Theantero fucked around with this message at 05:49 on Jan 24, 2024

Aabcehmu
Apr 27, 2013

Confusion As a Natural State of Being
+1 M'eh

Wisp Points: 4
Wisps Remaining: +, 0, -, -

BraveLittleToaster
May 5, 2019

Hakurei, Goddess of Spirit
HP: 3/3

A strange presence descended upon Oneder. A cold, companionable new goddess, listening silently while prayers went out to the gods. But she had a particular goal in mind.

Spirits could be Ghosts, and possibly stranger things still, and the ones on Oneder seemed particularly unruly. A Spirit could also be an inner self, a special quality, a drive, their feelings. Memories and thoughts, making something, a separate entity, but part of them nevertheless. It was time to reinforce this idea.

Hakurei alighted on Bigbox in the night, finding a teenage Maraqueet locked away in their room. A blank slate, with inclinations towards doing odd things and taking up many activities and socializations, with a hidden desire to change the world. Perfection. They had a strong Spirit within, waiting to break free with untapped potential, a wild card.. This Maraqueet, Tweet, would do. The Goddess alighted into their room silently, touching him quietly and sending him into a dream-induced meeting with her, where he would be taught of the bonds he must make with others, the skills he must build, and what must be done with his new power.. And while that happened, the Goddess awakened that Spirit of his into being.

Awaken Tweet's inner Spirit, whatever form it takes. Teach him to awaken the Spirits of others. 1d20 17

BraveLittleToaster fucked around with this message at 07:41 on Jan 24, 2024

Slaan
Mar 16, 2009



ASHERAH DEMANDS I FEAST, I VOTE FOR A FEAST OF FLESH


"Greetings children!" the deity said in a sing song voice as it descended from the skies towards a set of Plungerboa ruins-cum-off limits playground. "Aren't you smart and delightful little friends? Let me introduce myself! I'm Toddles! Can you say Toddles?!" it politely asked the group of mostly axe children.

The deity paused for a moment, not at all nonplussed that the children said nothing back in their confusion.

"Great job!" the deity continued. "I knew I could rely on your help!" The god's icon shimmered gleefully in the air, changing colors and geometric shapes as it flew around. The children laughed and clapped with joy at Toddles' antics. What fun, what fun!

Toddles led the children through a few rounds of Name The Shape and I Spy until it grew theatrically sad and dimmed its bright colors. "Children, let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a little Asaurted girl who was very sad because she had no friends after the Plungerboa left. She looked and looked but couldn't find her missing friends. But one day she heard something barking on the side of the road. It was a little blue axehandle hound. She picked it up in her arms and took care of it as they traveled the world. She named him Clifford."

The god continued. "Over time he grew bigger and bigger and Bigger and BIGGER until he was the size of a small mountain! He became an expert at using his nose to find the things the absent minded little girl misplaced. Eventually," the god brightened its colors, " the two found the girl's missing friends in a secret place! How wonderful!"

The god paused dramatically and looked intently at its listeners. "Would you like to find where the Plungerboa went?" it asked as it settled its gaze on a particularly excited aardicheling. "Then you shall have Clifford's help. For there comes along a blue axehandle hound to guide each new generation!"

With a bang the God picker up its chosen child, colored it blue and grew it bigger and longer and bigger and longer. Soon, a hound the size of a small mountain was before them.

"Follow the leader now kids! Make an orderly line and hold hands!"

And they did, for they had clues to find.

Starting a children's crusade to find any Plungerboa on Oneder remaining led by Clifford the Big Blue Axehandle hound

Blues clues children's crusade: 1d20 12

Slaan fucked around with this message at 21:14 on Apr 4, 2024

AJ_Impy
Jun 17, 2007

SWORD OF SMATTAS. CAN YOU NOT HEAR A WORLD CRY OUT FOR JUSTICE? WHEN WILL YOU DELIVER IT?
Yam Slacker
+1 Toddles

+--0 remain

13th Wisping

Adbot
ADBOT LOVES YOU

Swedish Thaumocracy
Jul 11, 2006

Strength of >800 Men
Honor of 0
Grimey Drawer
+1 toddles

Let's go on an adventure!

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
  • Post
  • Reply