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  • Locked thread
Ningyou
Aug 14, 2005

we aaaaare
not your kind of pearls
you seem kind of pho~ny
everything's a liiiiie

we aaaare
not your kind of pearls
something in your make~up
don't see eye to e~y~e


Did I ever tell you what the definition of insanity is?
In-sanity, is. Doing the exact. Same. loving thing. Overandoverandoveragain.
And expecting things to change.
That. Is. Crazy."


Okay, so that's maybe getting ahead of yourourthemidon'tevenknowwheretheythemthatendsandyoumeourtheirbegins myself a little bit. How did we get here, again?

"Potluck!"

That's how.

See, that thing you probably associate with a bunch of fussy old women in a church basement trading cheese-choked chicken casseroles and things? It has a looooooooong, long heritage. You see, there's all sorts of magic in a group of folks -- fey and those they've claimed touched, ordinary folks, it doesn't matter one bit~ -- there's heaps of magic in the simple act of people sitting down and sharing a meal everyone's had a hand in. Even if they don't know it! Even if they're toooootally blind to the whole thing, there is. (Spoiler alert: your Patrons do know. But they loving love food of one sort or another, too. I mean, who doesn't? Jerks, that's who.)

So, for those of you who prefer the dr to the tl, the House (whether it's the Tenants, or the Landlords, or the House itself somehow giving everyone a little mental nudge so they stop bickering and battling and plotting and BEING GOD drat CHILDREN I MEAN FIVE MINUTES FIVE MINUTES OF GETTING ALONG THAT'S ALL I ASK UGH) is having the usual once-every-seven-years-on-a-new-moon's-morn Potluck, and everyone's invited.

A Talent Show, too, because someone decided however many years decades? centuries? ago that it's not as fun if you just sit around and eat without getting up to some kind of (structured, of course they have to be structured, all those aimless little humans simply need structure, they'd be so lost on their own~) activities too. I mean, come onnnnnn!

The problem with this, of course, is that the Tenants, uh...the words "collateral damage" don't really make a lightbulb go on in their head. And, you know, you wouldn't think a friendly game of hopscotch or hide-and-seek or high-stakes Pictionary or (gods forbid) red rover could result in casualties, but with the Fae...well, y'know.

And, the thing of it is, they don't mean for the big scorched-earth mess that these things leave in their wake! So they change the Activity every time, change it just enough that this time, it's going to be different....

But, well. What was that bit from the beginning, again?

Insanity is holding the same potluck over and over again with slightly different foods, seating arrangements, and fun diversions, and expecting things not to look like a tornado full of knives and bulldozers came through.

But it's okay, 'cos it's never that much of a mess in the grand scheme of things, and experience has shown your respective Patrons that everyone and everything can be sewn and set and soothed and scotch-taped back together sooner or later, and so eeeeeeverybody made sure to mark down in what passed for their calendars that the next potluck would be held seven days hence.

So!

Each of you, please tell me where you are, what you're doing, and what delicious dinnertime treat your Patron has tasked you with preparing! Also if you could link your sheets in your first posts that would be lovely.

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Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer

Clarity

Clarity is entertaining, which is actually a part and parcel with what the calligraphied note card left on the table outside her room has asked her to bring.

That is to say, pizza.

Now, any idiot can make pizza-- especially if they're a fancy-pants one who gets DiGiorno-- which is probably why the note stipulated 'certain unusual flavours'.

So Clarity ordered out.

She ordered out, and answered the door in a billowing gown the grey of mist on the moor. It was about as tangible as the stuff too, which made it easier to convince the delivery guy that generations of laddish movies were right about his profession's opportunities for promiscuity. Somewhere, the Scenestress probably smiled as her stalking-horse (Judas goat might be more accurate, though the imagery isn't as romantic) lured the fellow into the house.

From there she's... extracted the other, rather particular ingredients. First, a deepest, oldest unshared secret, whispered into a pointed ear. Then, the sweetness and promise of first love's first uncertain kiss. Finally, a flutter of hope.

Now? Now she's waking up, still wearing that gown, absently checking her ears to see if they're real or spirit-gummed on (the former, though 'real' is a flexible term in the house), recalling a dream that felt like one of the rather frank movies she's watched with the Weaver a very few times.

And the card still reads 'pizza'.

---
Misread the prompt, but didn't want to toss a perfectly good post. Also copying my sheet here, because recruit threads have a habit of falling into the archives.

Clarity

High Concept: Cosplay Doll
Clarity really gets into character when she dresses up, summoning skills and aptitudes that she doesn't even realize she shouldn't have. New attitudes often emerge as well, lurking in the shallows of her persona, growing stronger the more she calls upon whatever traits have been granted.
Invoke: Swapping costumes, drawing on the archetypes or actual characters expressed by them.
Compel: Acting negatively in accordance with her portrayed character's persona, instead of her own.

Trouble: Not All There
Spending so much time in front of the tube, and living in the house for that matter, has softened Clarity's grasp on reality. She's a little spacey at the best of times, and... more than a little credulous.
Invoke: Taking strangeness in (faltering) stride. Navigating the house's madness.
Compel: Taking your word that 'gullible' isn't in the dictionary.

Malleable
Clothes make the man, so they say. They make Clarity on a physical level too, making her fit them no matter the size or cut, stretching her to Barbie proportions or stranger, transmuting shade and feature. She returns to normal afterward. Mostly. Usually. Simple physical pressure works similarly, but more slowly.
Invoke: Squeezing into tight spaces. Absorbing blows.
Compel: Being tied in knots.

Undeclared Aspect

Patron's Gift: The Weaver's Protégé
Stories are power. Symbols, archetypes, commonalities and cycles. Realizing on some level that you're in one and knowing the pattern that it's likely to follow can offer a touch of prescience... or a big, fat dollop of fate.
Clarity's patron insists on watching her shows in their original languages. Dubs are anathema, but subtitles can be tolerated. The massive, ersatz language immersion Clarity has undergone at her side, along with other, unnoticed changes, has turned her into a natural polyglot at the cost of poor functional literacy. She could read easily from a teleprompter, but more than a page of traditionally presented text and her eyes start drifting in search of something that's moving.
Invoke: A helpful feeling of deja-vu. Carry on a conversation in a foreign language.
Compel: "It's quiet. Too quiet." Having to read long passages.

Stunts:
Continuity Error: Because of my inappropriate relationship with television, once per session, while no one is looking, I can produce a useful object or move to a more advantageous position without crossing the intervening space.
A Stitch in Nine: I've learned to mend and make alterations at a blur. Since time, narrative and fate share a fabric, once per session I can fix a garment and carry that momentum into something else, like crossing the house in the space of a spin wipe or performing a time-consuming task in a matter of moments.
Subliminal Messenger: By weaving subvocal suggestions into my speech, I can tap the weird potential of the house and create illusions perceptible by anyone within earshot.

Approaches
Careful +0
Clever +2
Flashy +3
Forceful +1
Quick +2
Sneaky +1

Davin Valkri
Apr 8, 2011

Maybe you're weighing the moral pros and cons but let me assure you that OH MY GOD
SHOOT ME IN THE GODDAMNED FACE
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!


Arno "Songbird" Passeria

-> <->

Put on the skillet/and put on the lid/Arnie's whipping up a bit of berry corn...bread?

The Buoyant Lord's favored "son" stops mid-motion, a handful of wild berries in his hand, as he wonders about the lyrics he was singing to himself. "Bread? This isn't bread. It's more like a...salad. I don't have any flower or meal, so..." After a few moments, he shrugs and resumes stuffing berries into his wicker basket.

"Wild winter berries and springtime clotted cream in the middle of summer, that's what the Lord wants, that's what the Lord gets~!" he whistles as he puts in the last handful. Wild berries...from the Lord's personal bushes...so tasty looking. Maybe just one wouldn't...no, no, Arno! Focus! You aren't a bird at the moment, you can't just pick them now! We need something else to satisfy the Lord's desire, now is somebody else in the forest making clotted cream, or is he going to need to get it from elsewhere? After a moment's thought, he decides that clotted cream is impossible to get in a winter setting, and, resisting the urge to stare too long at the red and blue fruits he's carrying, walks over to a freestanding door into the snow.

He opens it gently, and steps out in his bare feet from white snow to stained wood hall.

Davin Valkri posted:

Silly choice of theme
High Concept: Student Singer with a New "Teacher"
Twas poetry in motion/when I signed my life to thee
So deeper than the ocean/the greatest warbled harmony
You bound me with your contracts/and made me yours eternally~

Sample Invoke: Do something incredible with his voice
Sample Compel: Be a bit "ditzy" regarding non-musically related stuff


Trouble: Time in a Bottle
If I could keep time in a bottle/The first thing that I'd like to do/Is save every day till eternity passes away...~
Sample Invoke: Remember something incredibly obscure for a while ago; advantages to being one of the house's longest running tenants (maybe?)
Sample Compel: Flail about with present day technology and events; to lose your time is to lose your self; "it is not so? The Buoyant Lord said it was!"


Aspect 1: Got my Sir, Got my Sun, Got my Song
I've got plenty of nothing, and nothing's plenty for me~
Sample Invoke: Put full effort into something, be free of monetary concerns
Sample Compel: Have a bunch of old records and nothing actually useful on hand


Aspect 2: Smile, Darn Ya, Smile!
You know this old world is a great world after all~
Sample Invoke: Be kind and cheer up other people when they need it
Sample Compel: "Ungh...it's nothing...I can still smile, see?"


Fae Aspect: The Buoyant Lord's Songbird, For Better or Worse
The bird with feathers of blue/Is waiting for you/If you disrupt my realm~

pictured: the Buoyant Lord in a fairly humanoid state
Sample Invoke: Get a favor from the cheerful Buoyant Lord or any of his equally pretty servants; "can I be a bluebird for a moment?"
Sample Compel: Favors come back, do something trivial for the Buoyant Lord; accidentally displease him and get baleful polymorphed


Approaches
Flashy +3
Quick +2
Forceful +2
Careful +1
Clever +1
Stealthy +0

Stunts
Enrapturing Siren: Because the Buoyant Lord turned Arno's voice into something superhumanly enticing, once per scene, he can roll Flashy and place the aspect "Whistle While you Work" on the scene. In addition to the usual effects, all Create Advantage rolls made by allies (excluding Arno) gain +1 to the roll. The aspect persists until an enemy matches the original Flashy roll with any Overcome or the scene ends.
Things Are Never Black As They Are Painted~: Because the Songbird's disposition is irrepressibly sunny/Stepford-ly deluded (pick one), once per non-battle scene, he can convince somebody else that their problems are, if not fine, then totally solvable and not as bad as they think. They can ignore any Moderate or Severe consequences for the next scene. Additionally, this counts as treatment for Moderate social consequences.
Fermata: The last note of a song is the one that really sticks with you. So you'd better make it stick, and you'd better make it last! And Arno is good at holding that last note. Boosts Flashily created (by ties on Create Advantage and Attack) have two free invokes before disappearing.

Drakli
Jan 28, 2004
Goblin-Friend

Abby

Call it a Team Building exercise, or a Community Building exercise at least. After all, you will be/have been living with these people for quite some time. It's a great formal opportunity to mingle and chat with them, learn a few of their subtler fears. So sayeth the Boss. Frankly, Abby doesn't mind in the slightest. It's a night off from work for one thing; a night where she doesn't need to scare anybody.

Thus sees the gangly young woman by the potluck buffet table happily laying out plates and silverware, chatting about the pork with sweet and sour onion sauce that she prepared to anyone who'll listen.

"It's so easy to make! And I ordered the pork online from an organization that hunts feral pigs and sells their meat. Not only is it good for the environment, but it's a lot tastier and healthier than store bought pigs. Bloated, chemically-pumped, content bastards; Never feeling a moment of fear right up to the moment they're marched placidly into the slaughterhouse and massacred. Not these lean beasts, oh no! They've run for their lives or charged down their deaths, and you can still taste the fear in their juices. I find that the tang of it goes lovely with the onions."

All this, she says with cheerful enthusiasm of someone sharing a favorite new dish. Who also happens to have shark-like teeth.

Incidentally, since she's not entirely certain how formal this potluck dinner was supposed to be, she's decided to be somewhat playful in her attire, wearing a black long-sleeve shirt that imitates a tuxedo suit, and attaching a clip on bow-tie to the collar. She also wears a pleated, short black skirt with black and white stripped leggings underneath. It's also worth noting that if one were to describe her legs as going on forever, it might almost be literal, to the point where the stripes almost look like they hide an optical illusion. But then again, her arms are at least as long. Her hair is done up in a tight bun with a couple of very pointy looking pins.


====
====

"Bleak" Abby O'Malley

High Concept - The Bogey Monster Roommate

Abigail O'Malley is a bogeymonster. Tall, tall, tall with ghostly pale skin and ink black hair, she possesses impossibly long limbs, especially the arms... which end in wriggling wormlike fingers with a vise grip. Able to go from walking as a woman to boneless slithering like an eel or an octopus, she can crawl and climb effortlessly with her sticky grip and curling coils, and squeeze herself into tight hide-aways and cramped spots. What's more, her elastic limbs seem to stretch out of their ordinary length to grab after what she wants. She has the speed of an adder and monstrous strength and gripping power. Her teeth are those of a shark.

It actually makes her a rather good roommate. There's never an object on a shelf too high for her to reach for you, and never a jar she can't open. She can climb without a ladder, and carry quite a load, and if you need a box cutter, she'll use her teeth. Don't worry about her breaking them, she'll just grow more. And really, put a big goofy sweater on her, with stripy sleeves over two yards long, and she hardly looks like a monster at all; just a gangly girl with silly noodely arms. She has expressive eyes and an infectiously warm demeanor, and even if her flaky housemates sometimes fluster or frustrate her, she's still willing to pitch in and lend a hand.

Invoke - When something is just out of reach; when creeping and crawling agility, when tentacular grasping and monstrous strength would be useful. When boneless contortionism gets her into or out of tight spaces.

Compel - When forced to defend herself. Avoid backing her into a corner. And frankly, baggy, dorky clothes and a good nature may make her hardly look like a monster but it doesn't actually pass her off as human unless you're mind-muddled to miss the details. And frankly, when she's on the job, you just can't miss it. Speaking of which...

Trouble - With a Monster's Job to Do

And then again, when evening gives way and the small sounds of everyday become bumps in the night, scraping of clawed branches, and the creaking of phantom footprints, Abby has a job to do. And you never want to meet her when she's on the clock. The transformation is almost total, even if no actual physical change occurs. When she's working, she is fear itself, exuding a palpable aura of dread. Further, one can actually feel the tension of the nights when she stalks, though it does nothing to help you locate where she is. Her encyclopedic knowledge of horror movies and techniques combine with her unnatural physiology and bogey monster's instinct to make her a terrifying supernatural stalker. It's not that she inherently wants to frighten her friends... though in the moment, bogeymonster drives sometimes make it distressingly fun. In fact, she'd rather leave her roommates alone, but the price of earning a living is doing your job, and she can't give anyone preferential treatment. Fortunately, there are upsides as well. She earns a paycheck, and benefits, and part of the two-way street of being an employee with all of the modern rules for employment means she can even call out sick when her friends need her. As long as she doesn't overdo it.

Invoke - Having a day to day job may be a drudgery, but it comes with pay, benefits, and access a non-employee lacks. Though she's not scary from day to day... she doesn't forget how when she's off the clock. Scarers who try and scare her friends may find themselves scared off by her
Compel - A job is a responsibility, and it cannot be shirked. Abby needs to haunt for her living. Even though she knows her friends are part of her job, she can't give them the immunity card.


Aspect One - Mirror Prowler

As a creature of shadows and fears, Abby has access to the secret pathways of the Manor House, the Mirrors and the Inverse Hallways beyond. Abby can enter any mirror or crystal-clear reflective surface large to squeeze through and rapidly emerge through any other. Doors and locks that are sealed in the real world don't seem to impede her in the mirror-side, and if there are any inhabitants in the mirror world, they seem to want to avoid her hauntings as much as humans do. She can take along guests, or drag victims after her. Basically, cover up your mirrors at night. Fortunately if you escape her in the Inverse Halls, you can exit through another mirror if you can fit, And there's always an open mirror somewhere in the house... though it may be far from home. It is Lady's taboo to break mirrors.

As of yet, Abby has not dared to experiment about whether she can branch out into traveling through TV screens or monitors. She's too afraid of screwing up her DVR recordings or loving up her laptop.

Invoke - Sometimes you find a shortcut through the Mirrors.

Compel - And sometimes you get lost. On the wrong side. And sometimes you have to go into the Inverse Hallways whether you want to or not.


Aspect Two - Make-Up/Practical-Creature-Effects Artist/Movie Monster Maker

Abigail is a skilled artist, schooled in the craft of creating movie monsters. A multidisciplinary field, it involves drawing designs, make-up and costume crafting, prosthetic sculpting and moulding, and if you're as ambitious as Abby, the creation of creature puppetry. She has a Masters' Degree in such endeavors, even though she cannot exactly recall how a bogey monster became accredited as a movie-monster maker. Furthermore, she maintains an encyclopedic knowledge of horror movies and sci-fi/fantasy films, particularly ones that involve practical creature effects. For context, 'Practical Effect' in movies means any effect that involves physical objects and technology rather than CGI or animation.

Invoke - When the gang needs disguises to sneak past the tribe of trolls camped out on the third floor. When a friend could use a make-over. Anytime artistic endeavors may be helpful, particularly involving costuming, make-up, drawing, sculpting, moulding, and puppet crafting and rigging. And designing monsters.

Compel - You don't compel your muse. She compels you. Also, with as many designs and half finished props as she has lying around her room, it's possible for someone to find one of her designs. And someone with a vested interest in monster making and enough leverage may force her hand to come up with a compelling design.


The Patron - The Boss


Shockingly sedate and fantastically mundane, Abigail's patron is a tall, handsome, stern, elf-like woman wearing a severe, expensive business suit and pince-nez glasses. The fact that she has pointed ears and goblin-green skin does nothing to counter the image of a thoroughly modern Queen of business. Called Ms Echidna, she owns and runs The Backstage, a creature workshop and horror assignment agency behind the walls of the Inverse Hallways. Gangs of swarthy goblins, dwarfs, and gnomes slap together clay and sinew, bone and enchantment to create monsters for employment throughout the fell realms and fey kingdoms, while bogeys of all stripes use the business as a work agency seeking jobs in terror. If Abby is to be completely honest with herself, there is room for advancement and she has been offered a position as creature designer by the respect her admiring Boss holds for her talent. The idea of releasing other real monsters onto the world that might be less gentle than herself keeps Abby from accepting. Still, Abby stays with the horror agency work because she fears few mortal creature workshops will employ a bogey monster. Despite the evidence that she herself was remade in this very workshop... or perhaps that the workshop was inspired by her recreation, Abby's edited memory renders her unable to remember she was ever human before she got this job

Invoke - Abby has access to The Backstage, the place where movie monster magic is made! Minus the movie part and plus the in-actual-real-life part. She can request access to supernatural craftsman tools. She has full pay, job benefits, perks, and access to safety equipment. In the break-room, she can chat with contacts/co-workers that can give her info, swap jobs with her, or allow her to reach inaccessible places in the House. She can ask fellow bogeys be re-assigned as a favor. Further, if she's doing a good job at her hauntings or agree to new tasks, she can gain bonuses and win favor (and favors) with the Boss.

Compel - Sometimes the Boss might need her to work overtime. Performance Reviews. Re-assignments "Okay, we're going to need you to haunt <Roommate X> for a few weeks. Her sleep has been too nightmare free. Ms Echidna really Really wants to use some of Abby's scarier creature designs, and might be able to apply some... leverage, or more pleasantly, incentive, to create for her. Giving in to the Boss's requests may give reward or reprieve, but if she gives in there's always a chance the housemates may face one of Abby's creations in a dark hallway.

=====

Approaches
Sneaky +3
Clever +1
Forceful +2
Quick +2
Flashy +1
Careful +0

Stunts

Nightmarish Mutation: Because Abby is a living nightmare, once per session, Abby can undergo a Nightmarish Mutation, developing a horrific feature out of nowhere; such as a gaping vertical mouth splitting her skull down the middle, sprouting an extra arm, or developing spinnerettes to weave webs. This creates a temporary advantage or a temporary bonus before melting away.

Translocation: Because Abby is a Bogeymonster, she is never quite where you thought she was. Old monster secret technique. See pretty much every horror movie ever. Once per session, but only when no one else is looking, she can teleport to any place within her line of sight. Don't blink.

I Thought She Was Gone! You Said She Was Gone!: Bogeymonsters are deceptive, and two of the ways they embody this is by being deceptively hard to kill, and by recovering from injury deceptively quickly. It always seems to happen just when you turn your back. Once per scene, Abby may ignore mild consequences or reduce moderate or severe consequences by one step by playing dead for one turn.

====
====

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


Miranda

"Carve him as a dish fit for the gods."

Thus was the quote Ariel left her on a whisper through her door, and so with murderous intent she took His knife (of the highest quality, of course, as all of His things are) to the roast leg of lamb when it came from the oven, slicing and dicing, carving up the meat as skillfully as any master chef, though with the knowledge her hands are guided by Him, as her thoughts are always. So when the potluck is on (barely twenty minutes after the roast is done, perfectly timed), Miranda of Ariel's Troupe comes into the room carrying a massive plate with a flower of meat, the slices arranged in a grotesque approximation of a scaled-up rose, with the various garnishes (the edible ones) in the middle like the hidden nectar of such a flower, and emerging from one side of it (the inedible ones), like the leaves of a bush.

Overwrought? Pompous? No, good sir, fair lady, this is a fancy most excellent, as Ariel demands all of His products are. For only the most fantastic and sublime of creations are worthy of claiming His name, just as only the most obedient and passionate of actors are worthy of being part of the Troupe. Miranda beams, knowing that her[His] creation will be the centerpiece of all, knowing Ariel will be pleased. So she settles herself in one of the available chairs, and helps herself to a drink (fortunately, He said she may eat and drink as she pleased), smoothing out a wrinkle in her excellent dark-blue dress, and waits for the party to start.

----

Wahad posted:

Miranda Bellamy

Miranda getting ready for the stage, with Ariel reassuring her.

----
Ariel:
What a piece of work is a man!
How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty!
In form and moving how express and admirable!
In action how like an angel,
in apprehension how like a god!


All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts.


Miranda:
There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with ’t.

I prithee, be my god.


Ariel
If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.


Miranda
Into what dangers would you lead me,
That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?

Conceal me what I am; and be my aid
For such disguise as, haply, shall become
The form of my intent.


Troupe Member
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem’d;
Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms:
Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well.
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes;


Ariel
The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear.


Miranda
I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spriting gently.


Ariel
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding, but a dream.
*
----

High Concept - Spotlight Submissive
Theatre is life. For Miranda, that's all there is to it. She doesn't know if she liked theatre before she came to the House, but who cares? Ariel made her see how lovely it all can be. Standing in the spotlight is the only desire she has, nowadays - well, that, and pleasing Ariel. After all, if she does that, everything else will go exactly as it should. People fall into their roles, remember their lines, and the show goes on. If Ariel isn't pleased... well, you get your luck where you can find it. Break a leg, right?

That aside, Miranda craves the approval of her betters outside of the spotlight as well. Most of the time, that's Ariel - but other players of the troupe as well, or visiting tenants. Miranda doesn't make a fuss, but she always catches people's eye. She's a star, and people notice; but she's no diva, and people notice that too.

Invoke: When having people's attention, and the place to say something.
Compel: When other people push their own script on her.


Trouble - Shackled to Spectacle
Do it with flair, or don't do it at all. That's the first lesson she learned under Ariel's guidance. People come to the theatre to see a show, to escape the mediocrity of their lives and the ennui of the daily routine, so they expect a spectacle. But Ariel is nothing if not a thorough teacher, and his students - Miranda included - take his lessons to heart. And so they talk with emphasis, and their emotions are never hidden. When a silence is called for, they quiet down with all the gravitas of a funeral. But theatrics guide Miranda's every word and act, and it shows. Even the most dreadfully mundane situation never fails to be entertaining when one of the Troupe is around. Of course, some might say that there is such a thing as too much theatrics; but they're just hecklers and critics without a sense of taste. Right?

Invoke: When deliberately overacting to liven up the situation.
Compel: When people have no taste.


Aspect - Shining Sentiment
"Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life." Oscar Wilde said that, and for Miranda and her fellow actors, that holds particularly true. Thanks to Ariel's intense lessons, their acting is so forceful, so powerful that it can exude influence on the audience. In particularly emotional outbursts, climaxes or dramatic monologues, people watching or talking with Miranda might feel themselves overcome with similar feelings; outrage towards the play's villain, heartwrenching love when the fated couple gets together. And because for Miranda, everything is now simply a part of the Grandest of Plays, that influence extends itself to when she has strong moods of her own. But, as with everything, this leaves her particularly vulnerable to manipulation - her own soul is a blank slate when she's not in an exlosive mood, and she is just as receptive to other people's emotions, if they're strong enough.

Invoke: When putting heart and soul in her words.
Compel: When emotionally manipulated.


Aspect - Stagecraft Skillmonkey
When you spend as much time in and around the stage as Miranda, you learn to pick up a few tricks. Disguises, mundane illusions, acrobatics; she's not as excellent at anything as she is at acting, but sometimes the stagehands have to go on stage, and the actresses have to control it. Ariel has made sure that anybody can substitute anybody else in his little Troupe - just in case - and as such, Miranda can do a lot of things that might seem out of reach for somebody as locked into acting as she is.

Invoke: When small problems can be solved in an unexpected way.
Compel: When problems require more skill to solve than they seemed at first.


Fae Aspect - Ariel (The Director|The Lead|The Playwright)

Ariel loves theatre. In his words; "It is an art perfected and exalted." So it's only logical that those around him love the theatre as well. It would hardly do for him to be seen with uncultured rubes, after all, excepting for when he's sharing the wisdom of the stage. Beyond guiding his Troupe of boarders, (sometimes from behind the curtain, sometimes among the spotlight) Ariel fancies himself a bit of a playwright as well, and what audiences might expect to be a performance of a well-known play will throw them for a loop when the actors say lines foreign to the script, introduced by - who else - Ariel.

The stagemaster is sophisticated, elegant, and authorative to a fault. Follow directions and the play will go splendidly - but improv at your own risk. He's not fond of actors trying to steal the spotlight by changing their lines, and has little patience for hecklers or critics besides. Theatre - his theatre - is perfection, and if some folks are too uneducated to see it, well, then he would have to be forced to educate them, wouldn't he?

Invoke: When requiring shelter from a critic.
Compel: When not following the script.


Approaches
Flashy +3
Quick +2
Clever +2
Careful +1
Sneaky +1
Forceful +0

Stunts
- What's my line? - Because Ariel makes sure his Troupe knows exactly what to do, once per scene he can guide Miranda directly onto the right path to take.
- Stolen Spotlight - Because Miranda is an excellent actor, once per scene she may captivate people's minds with a performance, forcing them to stay a while, and listen.
- The Show Must Go On - Because Ariel pushes the Troupe to the limit to get the most out of every show, when Miranda is dealt a consequence of Moderate or Mild severity, she can ignore it temporarily until the problem is dealt with. If she does, however, when things are quiet and peaceful again, that consequence is marked with a step up in severity (an ignored Mild becomes Moderate, ignored Moderate becomes Severe)

*(May the Immortal Bard and all theatre lovers everywhere forgive me for this abomination)

Mitama
Feb 28, 2011



"No. 1!"

"Y-Yes, Great Leader?"

The girl with the helmet stands at attention, right arm thrust towards the sky. Her Leader speaks to her as She always does: a heavenly light from above. And cheesy villain music.

"The fated day is to arrive in a week's time! The day where we vanquish our enemies in one fell stroke!"

"Uh, during the potluck?"

"Of course! There's no other stage greater to promote the superiority of our domain! Here, within the teeming masses of humanity, under the watch of every lord and lady of the realm, we establish our superiority and unleash our secret weapon!"

"Ohhh!" Akemi jumps up, that right hand now raises up into a fist. "You, you mean, you're going to unleash..."

"Indeed! And you will be my harbinger! The ultimate weapon, one to strike awe and jealously to the rest of the world! And it's your job to prepare it!"

"Oh, my..."

"Are you ready, No. 1?"

"Well, of course I am!" It's not like she has a choi-

The light shines so bright that it nearly blinds the girl.

"No, I need to hear your your resolve! ARE YOU READY, NO. 1!?"

Oh, that serious, then? In that case... the girl presses her feet together, with a snappy salute!

"YES, GREAT LEADER! I WILL PREPARE OUR SECRET WEAPON! AND PERSONALLY DELIVER THEIR END RIGHT INTO THEIR TABLE!"

"THEN GO FORTH! BRING ABOUT THE GLORY OF YOUR GREAT LEADER!"

And the young girl with the helmet rushes out!

"ORAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-


Smash cut.







A dirty kitchen. A steaming pan. Shrimp, octopus bits, flour, and vegetables at the counter. Egg batter spread out everywhere like living goop. The smell of fried everything fills the air.








And Akemi. She's donning her whole combat suit, helmet and all, mixing the hell out of that batter.

"Ta-ta-takoyaki... ta-ta-takoyaki..."

She still has rolled up octupus balls frying at the pan that she occasionally flips around.

"Nothing else is fit to for the Great Leader~"

A few batches of fried balls are already filling up her cute little tupperware containers.

"Ta-ta-takoyaki... ta-ta-takoyaki... gonna make the best you've seen in this house~"

She has to prepare a whole bunch of them for everyone to eat in the potluck. This is going to take a while.



quote:

Akemi

High Concept: Totally A Toku Hero
Trouble: Paying Rent With Punches

Aspect: I Fight For... Justice
Aspect: The Rider War
Aspect: Part Of The Great Leader's Script

Approaches
Careful: +1
Clever: +1
Flashy: +3
Forceful: +2
Quick: +2
Sneaky: +0

Stunts

Ally of Justice: As long as acts on the authority of a hero, Akemi adds a +2 to any Flashy attempt. Dark forces always conspire to thwart her though, so she also creates a situation aspect against her for each use of this stunt. "Hen... shin!"
The Path of Flowers: Akemi can spend a Fate Point to dramatically leap into any scene (or zone in a conflict), no matter how far it is. "Toh!"
SFX: Akemi's world is a painfully low-budget TV show, which she can assert into other parts of the house if she wills it. When she succeeds with style in any Flashy action, she can create a situation aspect instead of a boost that represents some part of reality changing to her own vision. She can turn bullets into squibs, leap as far as wire fu allows, punch someone so hard they teleport into an easier-to-film rock quarry...

Refresh: 3

Ningyou
Aug 14, 2005

we aaaaare
not your kind of pearls
you seem kind of pho~ny
everything's a liiiiie

we aaaare
not your kind of pearls
something in your make~up
don't see eye to e~y~e


Clarity

You've seen this movie before.

You've seen this movie before, and it culminates in the elven princess -- sheltered elven princess, so terribly lost at the beginning of the film when her true love falls under a terrible, terrible curse and the court witch (the one who has assured Princess Clarity of her great destiny since she was old enough to make sense of the word) can only give her grave looks and halting whispers about the one-in-a-million chance of maybe finding a cure in the fabled land of Pep Per-óni (just a hop and a skip away from Tir Na Nóg) -- calling 555-PZZA (or was it 555-PIZA? No, wait, that's a scaffolding shop.) and getting weird looks when she tries to tip the pizza person with a token of fairy favour but eventually curing her betrothed with a heaping helping of Vitamin D (as in, 'deep dish.')

The movie was bankrolled by Big Pepperoni and widely panned as a two-and-a-half-hour advertisement, but...but any way you slice it, the idea is sound.

You could order pizza.

Didn't that old crone with the chicken-legged Pizza Hut settle nearby? Maybe she's putting down roots here. Maybe....maybe, she does catering.

Or perhaps you could forage around in the Gobblin' Goblin Market or somewhere. They always have interesting food, right?

Or maybe.....maybe, maybe, maybe maybe maybe....

Maybe, your Scenestress is on some kind of corporate mascot cosplay kick. Today, the Noid, tomorrow, Pepsiman (Pepsiwoman?) or perhaps Internet Explorer-chan.

In any case, you have a card to make sense of and Pizza Things to do.

Arno

You cross the threshold, and the cold -- the feeling, the draft at your back, the very memory of being cold -- all of it washes away, replaced with warmth and a feeling of being *home*, or at least in a homey, inviting, safe place.

Before you, there's a loooooooooong hallway, all tall windows with the sun shining through and fancy decor (wouldn't you know, it is just Rococo as gently caress), lovingly detailed paintings (of allllll sorts of terribly androgynous noblefolk in various poses and getups~) and doilies and doors and things here and there, and in the distance...

Bubble bub~ble, toil and trouble, th'stew needs ma~king on the double...

You can distinctly make out two things in the distance. People (okay, people maaaaay not be the word) singing something jaunty in French-accented English to the tune of a fiddle and what may or may not be a mess of pots and pans and ladles and such pounding out an accompaniment.

Our good Lord made us com~plete / so thank him proper, mes petits~

Oh, dear.

Noooooooooow.....look, listen here! Who has the answers? But of course, la mère! Oh, I know nothing but serving and I'd love to aid your learning~ But, oh dear, I fear, there's something to make clear--

Narrative convenience requires eeeeeeeeeveryone in the manse to hear the first part, and nobody but the closest to hear the very very last part, that 'something' to be made clear. Either way, something's going on, and sneaking into the rich ppl kitchen to make some bomb-rear end clotted cream may or may not be a remotely safe viable option.

Bleak Abby

You're making conversation with a surprisingly timid ogre and an abyss-eyed child in a shredded nightgown who sounds just a liiiiiiittle too excited about Pinterest when you realise this might be a dream nightmare, and you know from nightmares (buffetmares?) 'cos sometimes the little girl hiding under the covers is a budding chef raised on a diet of Ratatouille and Hell's Kitchen.

The candlelight turns blue-black, plunging the room into a kind of darkness-but-not-darkness, and you feel something tugging at your sleeve.

"Th, th-this, this um--
This pork tastes burnt."

Oh, oh, oh....oh, dear.

Somehow, that little girl -- your little girl, the one who lives in mortal fear of you the things in the closets and basements and cupboards and very possibly under the bed the little girl who may not exist -- somehow that little girl's wandered in here, goofy Spongebob jammies sitting in stark contrast to the quietly terrified look on her face and that voice like you'd expect from someone, aah -- someone found wanting by the Children's Fun Fact Science Corner, someone marched right up to the Children's Fun Fact Firing Squad and prodded (in not-so-gentle fashion) for parting words or at least a final Science Fact--

"...a-and kinda moldy. Did, did you leave it in the refrigerator too long? My mum gets mad at me wh-when i leave food for too long, 'cos it gets moldy, but 'm too scared to go to the kitchen..."



You don't seem to remember her having the head of a goat.

Miranda

A place for everything, and everything in its place. Oh yes, oh yes. The players flit to and from and finally fall into place like the last funny-shaped pieces of a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle, make a little (incidental dialogue) before the main course, and then--



To stage left, some jealous-eyed and hook-handed Julie D'Aubigny doppelganger with a shiny silver plate of ham clutched close and a gleaming rapier at her side. "What? What?! But I was our Director's favourite, all those years ago! I brought the hamflower*! How dare you usurp my place!"

*And she did bring a hamflower! She brought a ham flower, not a lamb flower, and it looks less like a rose than a datura plant (which is perhaps not that appetizing!) and you can perhaps rest easy knowing that YOUR MEATFLOWER IS TOTALLY BETTER THAN HERS IN EVERY WAY, YEP.

Or perhaps less easy, as she tosses the dish aside (hitting some poor squire in the head, ofc) and draws her rapier, all red-faced and shaky with adrenaline and sputtering-- "I...I challenge you to a duel!"

Akemi

It's cooking time, which means....well, you know how this goes. If it's not a silly montage, it's...

Yep!

Cue the ominous music and disembodied laughter. "Haha....haahaha..." The pan sparks and shakes and erupts with a great gout of flame that gives way to a plume of smoke, and....

Guess who's standing in your pan, cackling madly?


Yep.

The takoyaki monster -- a little smaller than Akemi, but still...reasonably menacing-looking? Y'know, for a fried snack given life -- the takoyaki monster hops off the stove, tracking something unpleasant across the kitchen floor and putting hands on (his? her? their?) hips. "Uwaa....! You think you're soooo great, but you won't fry me! You won't be able to take this heat, so you better get out of the kitchen! Your goose is cooked! Heheh..."

Ningyou fucked around with this message at Apr 7, 2014 around 01:36

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer

Clarity

That. That was a strange movie. Not as strange as some of those other ones they watched sometimes, the ones that felt like a staircase where all of the risers were different heights, and there were landings at what felt like random, that had a rhythm that used your feet like drumsticks, but strange. Especially that last scene, where the princess and her paramour were feeding each other. That was just weird.

Drumsticks.

There was that nice old lady who managed the Hut. Or at least she seemed nice. Given to laughing, definitely. What was her name? Baba? Hm. She was probably someone's baba, anyway. She'd be out past one of the woods. Over the river too.

If that doesn't work out, she can always keep going and visit the Market, but the merchants can be awfully pushy. They might have more interesting ingredients though. Hmm. But she might have to cook it herself-- and that conjures a fluttering rolodex of images, of would-be cooks spinning flapping masses of dough into the air, only to have all manner of catastrophe follow.

Or maybe it's supposed to be... representative? That isn't the word, but it'll do. Like those animal skins she's worn a few(?) times, with the fur and the horns still on, that made her pulse pound in her ears like a drumbeat.

She'll try the drumsticks first. The hut. She'll have to change her clothes. Not that there's anything wrong with the gown, it's quite elegant, but it's made for stately gliding around carefully pedicured forests, not ghosting through wild woods.

Clarity consults the wardrobe. Something woodsy, something that isn't prone to catch. She smiles absently as she finds just the thing and sheds her gown. On goes the new outfit, one leg at a time, one leg briefly longer than the other, flesh of hip and bottom shifting to fit as she ties off the queerly airy shorts. 'Queerly airy' could describe the whole ensemble, and god only knows what the eyelets tacked on to the folded cuffs of the boots are for.

Clarity looks at herself in the mirror. The carved whorls at the top seem to look back-- or maybe smell back-- the loops seem more like nostrils than eyes. Perfect. Oh, wait. One more thing. The cloak covers everything up, and the color is quite brash, but there are patterns that must be obeyed.

With purse filled with interesting notions, tucked under her arm, Clarity leaves her room with a skip in her step and begins the trek to baba's hut.

Mitama
Feb 28, 2011



Akemi

Her superhero instinct flaring, Akemi ninja leaps away from the pan and strikes a pose on top of the kitchen countertop. Dirty dishes clatter and fall off the counter as she lands.

"I should have known you'd be lurking around here!" She points fiercely at the creature. "I don't have time for you, the Leader is counting on me to finish this task! Why don't you chill out and put yourself on ice, you overgrown snack?"

Flashily laying down some SICK COUNTERBURNS for an advantage: --// +3 = 1.
lol

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


Miranda

"Was. Was the favorite." Miranda turns to face the newcomer, in full confidence of Ariel's blessing. He guides her, always, guides her words and her moves and her mind. "But if a duel is your wish, then you will be obliged." She curtseys, half for her challenger, half for the audience (always keep the audience in mind, that's what He taught her, always perform!). "And since I am the challenged, I may choose the weapons!" The next words come so easily, as if Ariel spoke them Himself, through her mouth.

"I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!"

The experience leaves her grinning, His guidance filling her with a solid confidence, driving her fear away. There is no room for doubt when He guides her. No room to waver. Her line draws a laugh from the audience, but she's not done yet.

"He which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made.
"

The actress steps forward, and somebody tosses her a rapier. She catches it, flourishing smoothly. Yet more lines flow from her lips, so easily, for He knows His Troupe inside and out, and knows well enough who responds best - or worst - to what.

"Let's choose executors and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath,
Save our desposed bodies to the ground?
"

Raising her blade, Miranda enters a guard stance, and smiles. She has no fear, no doubt. This impostor has fallen from favor, and she will pay the price. Ariel guides her, and favors her. She needs nothing more.

(Invoking What's My Line? to have Ariel guide Miranda into demoralizing Julie D'AubigNOT, creating an advantage for the duel to come. )

Davin Valkri
Apr 8, 2011

Maybe you're weighing the moral pros and cons but let me assure you that OH MY GOD
SHOOT ME IN THE GODDAMNED FACE
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!


Arno

The feeling of snowflakes melting off of his back is weeeeird, Arno giggles to himself as he tiptoes down the hall to the third floor fancy kitchenette. Then his smile droops, just a little bit, as he thinks about what he just thought...not that that's bad! That's not bad at all! It kinda tickles, actually...it's a good feeling! He cheers again and almost starts skipping down the hall with the funny pictures and the other people singing.

"Ta tah, da dah," he hums along to the beating of the pots. "My master seeks and I shall make / clotted cream that tastes so great~"

He reaches the source of the singing at "There's something to make clear", and with a vibrancy that suggests that he truly knows no fear kinda sorta no not at all really he opens the rich ppl kitchen door dramatically. "This house belongs to all of us / so stand aside and make no fuss / good neighbors share and share alike / and thank our good Lord that is right~!"

He's probably invoking a completely different lord but who cares.

Arno came in like a wrecking ball! Or, at least, flashily?
[23:14:37] <Davin_Valkri> !r fudge+3
[23:14:39] <Krysmbot> Davin_Valkri, -//-+3 = 1
...whuh oh...

Drakli
Jan 28, 2004
Goblin-Friend

Bleak Abby

Abby freezes up. The shock of the girl showing up is enough to trigger her magic (Beetlejuice style) bow tie to spin like a black pinwheel.

Oh hell. This isn't her day off yet. It's a dream. The little girl's nightmare.

Abby's mood falls into the cold pit of her stomach. It's not that she hates her job.* But usually she has time to psyche herself up ahead of time. Nobody really wants to discover they' forgot they were supposed to work when they thought it was their day off.

She casts around for an idea, an angle from which to approach the scare. Finally, an idea strikes her, and she inhales through her nostrils, centering herself. A clammy coolness seems to settle in the air, the sort that one could well expect to engender mold. Bleak Abby opens her eyes and smiles down at the girl, with a luminous gaze and gleaming, serrated, white teeth that would put steak-knives to shame at dicing the toughest of meat.

"A burnt main dish? Moldy meat? Oh, dear, we can't have that. The guests will be so disappointed"

One of her arms snakes around the child's back to support her... and at the same time, keep her from slipping away.

"Afraid? Oh, but we must all go to the kitchen someday. Come, let's go together. There's still time to salvage this night! I know a fine dish that can be be prepared from young goat.."

"But I can't make it without you."



====


*Though she sometimes feels very guilty. The little girl always gets an extra present or two 'from Santa' every year.


====


Bleak Abby is Compelled by A Monster's Job to Do and will try to Sneakily (+3) trick and guide the girl into the kitchen

Ningyou
Aug 14, 2005

we aaaaare
not your kind of pearls
you seem kind of pho~ny
everything's a liiiiie

we aaaare
not your kind of pearls
something in your make~up
don't see eye to e~y~e


Akemi

It's not really that difficult to bully poor Takoyaki-chan around, so I'm going to say the difficulty here is 0. Are you proud of yourself? I hope you're proud of yourself, you horrible black-hearted jerk.

You may not be ON FIRE when it comes to the mean cuisine rap game, but you're at least....simmering. You're simmering at medium-heat. So, congrats! You get the advantage Baby Bastard Chef with one invoke.

"Uwaa...you're so mean!" The fried monster sniffles and sobs, globs of grease dripping down like great crocodile tears.
You spend so much time admiring the spectacle and/or your biting wit that you might be caught off-guard when the takoyaki monster takes a flying leap and attempts to kick you in the stomach. "Aaaaaa! This meat will beat you bad, y-you big jerk!"

(9:47:30 AM) ningyou: !r fudge+1 SPINNING BURGER KICK
(9:47:32 AM) Krysmbot: ningyou, /++/+1 = 3 SPINNING BURGER KICK


--------------------------

Miranda

You wanted me to roll for you, so~

(10:25:53 AM) ningyou: !r fudge+3
(10:25:54 AM) Krysmbot: ningyou, --//+3 = 1

Again, these are not terribly competent people you are up against, so you give Julie D'aubiGOD WHAT A FUCKASS the disadvantage The Only One Who Didn't Read the Script.


The beauty of being one of Ariel's stringed dolls, a big box of ventriloquist's toys with swelling-beating-/full/ hearts and stage makeup favoured players is that one is never, ever, ever in want of direction, in want of a line.

A few perfect, always perfect choice words, and Julie D'Aubignope is sputtering and fuming and there's a flicker of this small, chastened look in her eyes 'til it's gone and she has this *glare* so red-hot with anger it could very possibly melt a nearby candle into a puddle of summer apple fragrance-scented wax and--

"....y-you know what? I don't need His script! gently caress the stupid script! I don't need to be His favourite because I'll just...I'll just run you through and pen a new script with your blood staining my quill and it'll be great okay you don't even know--"

She charges at you, about as subtle as a runaway double-decker in a renfaire dress and just as charming.

Rolling to Forcefully run you through.

(11:16:28 AM) ningyou: !r fudge+2
(11:16:29 AM) Krysmbot: ningyou, /+/-+2 = 2

For the sake of simplicity I'm just going to say the disadvantage reduces Julie D'aubignope's roll by 2, giving her an outcome of 0. (oh god i hope i'm not screwing this up )


-----------------------------------

Bleak Abby

Given that you didn't post a roll result (which I didn't realize 'til I was almost done with my post 'cos lol i'm a dumbass), I just went ahead and rolled on the compel!

(12:03:44 PM) ningyou: !r fudge+3
(12:03:45 PM) Krysmbot: ningyou, /--++3 = 2

I'm gonna say that the difficulty here is 2, given the circumstances. You do succeed and she does start to go along with you, but then she realises what's going on because /holy poo poo you said you were going to make a dish from goat/


The little one doesn't speak, not now. She's all terrified bleating and teeth-chattering and trembletrembletrembling and meek following-beside, until finally--

"Young goat? But....but I'm a....No! Nonono! I don't wanna be goat stew! I-I'm not even tasty! N-not one bit!"
Finally, she makes a break for it, desperately trying to kick and tug and pull and squirm her way free!

Rolling to Forcefully get away.

(11:02:00 AM) ningyou: !r fudge+1
(11:02:02 AM) Krysmbot: ningyou, //-/+1 = 0
(11:02:15 AM) ningyou: that poor goat :c


And...does not do the best job of it, but then classic DS simulation game Imagine Swole Goat Babyz is a work of fiction and they don't really make strong goat children, and there's the matter of this being a bad dream, at least for the little one....

"Please! Pleasepleaseplease! I'll do anything, just please please please duh-don't eat me...."

-----------------------------

Clarity

Over the river and through the woods
To Grandmother's hut we go.
The elf knows the way to save the day
With~out too much to and fro~♪

Over the river and through the woods,
Oh, how the wind does blow.
It smells of rose and tempts the nose
As over the ground we go~♪


So maybe 'queerly airy' is becoming a running theme here, as there is indeed something queer in the forest air as you pass through, something lingering amid the boughs and trees and very big, very obvious, very dark (i mean gosh it's like they're pitch-black inside) cave entrances what evoke memories of Zelda dungeons and mediocre found-footage films.

Something...cloying, floral and thick and sickly-sweet as treacle.

Something pleasant, warm, drowsy, like someone'd bottled up the feeling of falling asleep on a deck chair one sunny May afternoon and given you a hearty swig, something at once drawing you to its epicenter and tempting you with the prospect of just....of just curling up and....goin' to sleep, just for a little bit, can't you just bask in the scent that clings and weighs down like a thick blanket and spare some time for a nice nap~?

---------------------------------------

Arno

It looks like you've wandered into some kind of hellish off-off-off-off-Broadway rendition of Be Our Guest. The kitchen is spattered with blood and flour and overripe jam. A literal stuffed suit -- it looks like a bunch of spoons and forks and things stuffed into a three-piece Savile Row number, with tongs for hands and an upside-down colander for a head -- lazily stirs a great cartoon-faced cauldron with Disney villainess eyelashes and a worrying amount of steam pouring out of its head.

She (?) greets you with a stage-whispered (hissed) aside! "Oh, what *luck.* It's none other than /you/! Do you feel disappointed, little bird, with the /view/?" There's a sharp whistle like she's the angriest animate kettle, and the singing resumes in dire tones.

Oh yes indeed, i'll plead, plant yourselves right here
for there is a tiny matter that i must make crystal clear
In this august house, we don't suffer sloth~
so you'd better do your part lest we toss you in the broth~


Long story short, she doesn't look too impressed with your grand entrance.

Another big, angry gout of steam shoots out from her top, and she addresses you once more, all nastynice dulcet tones and painted-on scowling.

"So, you might not know, but there's a feast about to start. Will the young master help, or does he only care to worm his way into our Lord's heart?"

Oooooh snap.

Ningyou fucked around with this message at Apr 19, 2014 around 08:45

Mitama
Feb 28, 2011



Akemi

Flashy burger defense: /-+/ +3 = 3. I'll let Tako monster leave Raw Meat Bits on Akemi as a Boost and it's totally gross.

Akemi braces against the Takoyaki attack, swinging her arms around in a dramatic hard block against the meaty kick. A lot of shrimp and octopus bits splatter from the impact and internally she wonders how awful this looks on her outfit.

She looks over to all the takoyaki balls still unfried.

"Actually, do we need to do this today? I'm kinda busy here." She throws a swift jab at the monster. "You know how the Great Leader is like when someone holds up her evil master plans."

Quick counter attack: +/-- +2 = 1, let's invoke my new aspect to make it 3.

Davin Valkri
Apr 8, 2011

Maybe you're weighing the moral pros and cons but let me assure you that OH MY GOD
SHOOT ME IN THE GODDAMNED FACE
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!


Arno FP 3-1/3

Oh, pooh pooh, this puppet of piles of peelers and peppermills is no fun at all! Arno's smile doesn't really fade so much as go just the tiniest bit askew as he tilts his head.

"You seem confused, my kitchen dear," he begins in the measured tone of a recitative. "In fact, my master bade me here." He holds up the basket of berries as he does a little curtsy. "These fruits, you see, are not for me, they're treats for the whole family!"

Without stopping his little cadenza, he walks to the icebox and opens up the chest. "I've things I need, and tasks to do!" He suddenly reaches in and grabs a package of cream and a bottle of what looks like wine--though a closer look at the bottle identifies the vineyard as "Chills of the Autumn Leaves"--holding them up in triumph as an imaginary orchestra fills in a little chord. "So 'little bird' says shoo, shoo, shoo!"

Of the stove,
Please divest,
At my master's own behest,
What my lordship wants my lordship gets and now he wants the best
Best of treats
Best of sweets
All the sweeter on the heat,
With the tears of tongs to cook in and the suits of staff to book in
Clotted cream!
Chilly wine!
Winter berries off the vine!
You can't get these anywhere this time of year~
So now my Buoyant Lord says
Backed by cold and sword says
Go away!
Disappear!
Disappear!


The final lines are punctuated by Arno dramatically sweeping the bottle towards the door.

Sorry about the lateness, but it's time for Arno to go on the offensive! Flashy Attack!
[21:59:18] <Davin_Valkri> !r fudge+3
[21:59:19] <Krysmbot> Davin_Valkri, ---++3 = 1
This is for the Lord, so I invoke "The Buoyant Lord's Songbird" to add a bit of punch and reroll!
[22:00:21] <Davin_Valkri> !r fudge+3
[22:00:22] <Krysmbot> Davin_Valkri, /+/++3 = 5
Thank you, your lordship!

Davin Valkri fucked around with this message at Apr 24, 2014 around 16:46

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.




With her rapier raised, Miranda is the epitome of elegance. She gestures at the crowd, and somebody makes sure everybody but her and her contestant are silent. Then, with a slow breath, Miranda begins to turn. With her skirts flourishing and her blade catching a reflection of one of the lights, it's barely an effort to make sure she has all the eyes; as only a proper member of Ariel's Troupe can do. The girl smiles, widely, radiantly, as she catches Julie's blade with her own and effortlessly deflects it, giving the fencer's momentum an extra boost with a push and an outstretched foot. Inertia and gravity finish her work for her, and Julie is sent flying to the floor.

Turning around magnanimously, Miranda lowers her blade. "Give it up, Julie. You know that those in Ariel's favor will not so easily be dismissed by those without. You can not win. He gives me strength. He protects me. I am the star, and you are yesterday's news." Pointing the tip of her rapier at the fallen girl, the actress takes a dramatic pause, and then recites another line.

Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.


"So which are you, Julie? A coward, or a valiant?" Miranda can almost feel the tension in the audience, and oh, how she revels in it.

Flashily Defending myself at 4dF+3; +/+/ = 5
Yes I included a title card, because we need some style up in this place, Ariel says so, and what Ariel says, I must do.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer

Clarity, finally

Follow the yellow brick road! Don't stray from the path! Clarity knows those imperatives like she knows those imperatives like she knows up from down-- in general terms, and with occasional pauses to double check. It keeps her away from the dark copses and darker cave mouths, the places that whisper promises of short-cuts and earlier reward in exchange for a tiny bit more risk; she's lucid enough for a bit of genre savviness.

It's the warm sun and slightly giving ground that trips her up, too much of a good thing weighing her down and encouraging her to stretch out for a while. There's nobody around and she doesn't really need to hurry, does she? There's no telling how long the crone in the hut will take to make a pizza for her, though, or how popular her services are. 'Thirty minutes or it's free' doesn't have the same weight of contract in a space where the clocks sometimes run backwards, sometimes sideways, and the digital ones occasionally show 'HA:HA'.

Mmmf. Need to keep going. Quick, light steps will get the blood flowing again; skirting the shade will keep that warmth from becoming too, too tempting.

Of course, there's always a difference between knowing something needs to be done, and having the motivation to do so. Clarity pauses a moment to consult with her feet.

---
'Quick' check to see if Clarity can keep her momentum, or if the sun-drenched ground is too much for her...
[01:54] <Bieeardo> !r 4df+2
[01:54] <Maidbot> Bieeardo, -+-++2 = 2
I think that's my second zeroed-out roll in a row.

Drakli
Jan 28, 2004
Goblin-Friend

Bleak Abby

Little goat, little goat, trie so hard to escape, but the boneless lengths of Bleak Abby's arms twine and twine, wrapping around the small, hapless creature like a pair of constrictor snakes working in concert. Dragging the girl-kid into the kitchen, she does her best to keep a chilling face, but her heart isn't into it.

Fortunately, little Miss Goat gives her an idea.

Shutting the kitchen door and locking it with her squirmy fingers, she lifts the child up to dangle before her face.

Abby's midnight black hair droops forward over her face. Only the space below her cheekbones is visible, and much of that is dominated by her broad wicked grin, full of gleaming, white, serrated teeth. Behind the curtain of her hair, her eyes emit a hellish glow, flickering behind the black strands. Somehow, it's even worse than looking at her gaze directly.

"Do anything, would you? Alright, then, my little Sous Chef. You're hired. Assist me in preparing a delicious entree (preferably pork) for my little party, and I'll let you go. Fail, and... well.. Goat Flambe is quick dish!!"

Her eyes flare brightly behind her hair, as if they really are balls of fire.

She deposits the girl on the floor and bestows upon her an apron and the chef's hat as cliche a Hell's kitchen as this is bound to have; and points the girl to the fridge and freezer. "First, lets see if we have anything fresh! I'll trust your oh so discerning nose."

And Thus Begins Little Girl Goat's Great Cooking Challenge!

=====

I'm not sure what to roll for this if anything. It seems more like Abby hitting upon an idea than anything else.[ Also, dreadfully sorry for taking so long. Real Life took a lot of momentum out of me recently.

Ningyou
Aug 14, 2005

we aaaaare
not your kind of pearls
you seem kind of pho~ny
everything's a liiiiie

we aaaare
not your kind of pearls
something in your make~up
don't see eye to e~y~e


Akemi

"O-of course we have to do this today!" the monster sputters, getting delicious-smelling bits of fried dough just everywhere. "A-and you can just deal with it, because I'm going to be the Great Leader! You are what you eat, a-and I'm going to take a big bite out of her, you'll see! And then you'll be sor--"

Quick defense!
(8:26:19 PM) ningyou: !r fudge+1
(8:26:20 PM) Krysmbot: ningyou, ///++1 = 2


Aaaaand Takoyaki-chan's big speech is interrupted by a sudden punch to the, erm....doughy parts. (Well, some of the doughy parts, because really she's *all* doughy parts, but....you know what I mean.) An uncomfortable, loooong silence falls over the room, nothing but the sound of the remaining bits of food in the pan crackling on the stove to punctuate the denouement of their grand battle.

A disembodied voice echoes throughout the kitchen. "Waaaah....! I-I'll get you, you big jerk, I will!"

And then the monster is gone in a puff of thick smoke, replaced with naught but a carefully-organized silver platter of perfectly-cooked, perfectly-round takoyaki balls! It's on the ground, though, so you should probably snap it up real quick. Five-second rule and all.

Arno

"Oh, really."

Flashy defense!
(9:03:59 PM) ningyou: !r fudge+2
(9:04:03 PM) Krysmbot: ningyou, ++--+2 = 2


not-Mrs. Potts tries to look suitably unimpressed by this fancy-pants newcomer all curtseying and singing and gesticulating with a bottle of wine like it's something THAT WE HAVEN'T SEEN LIKE A DOZEN TIMES BEFORE I MEAN COME *ON*, but your dulcet tones and that thing with the bottle just bowl. her. over.

"Hmph! S....see if I care." She sputters and boils all sullen-like, before finally quieting down (and somehow, reverting to a bog-standard saucepot.)

You get berries, a tub of clotted cream, and a bottle of musical wizard drank or something idk Chills of the Autumn Leaves!

You also get the boost Be Our Guest.

Clarity

You're waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope the train will take you -- FLAVORTOWN, population you (and the crone, and whatever support staff she ha--she's not the only one there, is she? There are, of course, those witches who can just fill up a shop with enchanted broomsticks and pots and rolling-pans and klutzy apprentices and maybe a singing trout for good measure, but you'd probably be able to tell if you'd stumbled into that movie, so....so let's just say 'the crone & co.' for now) -- but you can't be sure. Yet it doesn't matter. Now, tell me why?

You've seen this movie before.

You've seen this movie before, and you don't remember how it ends.

You've seen this movie before, except maybe it's a couple movies, a patchwork pastiche of dream-thieves and characters from videogames that don't exist and at some point there's Tom Hardy channeling doofy Donkey Kong-alike villains toting pastry grenade launchers with six-chocolatine revolver-style magazines engaged in desperate standoffs with milk-moustachioed cookie constables amid a backdrop of love and loss and after-lunchtime larceny (or was it after-lunch siesta larceny?) and there's a Serious Message that got lost somewhere in there and the one thing, the one Big Thing you likely remember from all of this was that half the time nobody could really tell if they were awake or asleep. That was how it went, right?

You're waiting for a train, a train that will take you to NEW FLAVOR CITY, home of chicken-legged pizza huts and unspeakably delicious things and you're meandering through the trainyard (so to speak) and it's getting harder and harder to tell if you're awake or having a particularly vivid dream as everything gets warmer and hazier and fuzzier dreamier and there's this soft-light glow and the ground starts to resemble less actual forest path and more patchwork-quilt and felt and down pillows and--
You know where you hope the road goes, but you can't be sure. But maybe it doesn't matter.

Can you tell me why?

Miranda

Oh. Oh, dear.

The crowd falls silent, the lights dim and darken. The curtains flutter and fall and lazily swirl around like sharks in the water and slooooooooowly close in on a single point -- right before you, right where Julie D'aubignopenopenope lay in a heap.

{One of them brushes against your wrist, and it's at once both wonderful in a way you can't put words to and stopped-heart, chills-up-your-spine loving. terrifying.}

No sound.

Not a word spoken, just tense breathing as the curtains draw closer and blot out that one particular point on the stage and then all of it, the stage and the crowd and the lights and that BIG JERK before you might as well be a million miles away because there's a particular clap-clap-clap drawing your attention, a silhouette at the peripherary that just transfixes your gaze, and--

A rumbling murmur of approval, like a packed house speaking in one voice. "Good girl."

There's this hapless-looking pair just standing around at the head of the crowd, this guy and gal done up like old-tymey newsboys (caps and suspenders and stacks of mismatched newspapers from 19xx and everything!), and they are just cute as gently caress, and the next moment they snap to attention, the girl scurrying off to put the spotlight on you and the boy scrambling over with to bestow upon you that hamflower of yours on its fancy tray, which may have consumed Julie D'aubignot's garbage-chan bullshit inferior ham and gained its powers, or at least its deliciousness.

"Break a leg, poppet. A grander stage is calling you. ♥"

Exeunt omnes.

Bleak Abby

The little goat doesn't need to be told twice.

Rolling to Quickly find something to whip up!
(3:29:28 PM) ningyou: !r fudge+2
(3:29:29 PM) Krysmbot: ningyou, +/+-+2 = 3


Aaaaaand she zooms off to the fridge all panicked-like, that singed chef hat of hers almost falling off her head, and manages to find a cornucopia of veggies and still-wrapped cuts of pork! The little goat grabs armfuls of the stuff, scurrying over and kicking a little stepstool to the kitchen counter and unceremoniously dumping the stuff on the surface and finally, finally taking a moment to survey her haul.
"I...I-I'll make something! Something really really good! So please please pleeeeeeeease don't eat me, okay...?"

Rolling to Carefully whip up something palatable! Chopping and tossing and cooking up and etc.
(4:32:05 PM) ningyou: !r fudge+2
(4:32:05 PM) Krysmbot: ningyou, -/+/+2 = 2


Aaaaand Miss Goat is not off to the best start. She's chopped up some vegetables, and thrown them in a big skillet over an angry-looking oven that spouts flame every which way (is that even Monster OSHA compliant?) along with some meat and mystery spices and such, and it doesn't look or smell downright offensive, but...it's not going to win any awards, the way it's going.


I am so so sorry for the delays! There's been...there's been a lot of stuff going on. also ugh sorry this is such a rambling pieced-together mess Also, once Bieeardo and Drakli have some kind of food to bring along, I think I'm going to timeskip to right before the potluck if that's okay? For now, the rest of you can either post an interlude or make your way over to where your character thinks it might be or...whatever, really!

Also, Drakli, you don't *have* to roll anything but you can roll to help or scare or sabotage the goat girl if you like~

Davin Valkri
Apr 8, 2011

Maybe you're weighing the moral pros and cons but let me assure you that OH MY GOD
SHOOT ME IN THE GODDAMNED FACE
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!



FP 2/3

"Ah, so sad that this song had to end this way..." Arno recites as his semi-unwilling duet companion fades back into normal kitchenware. "Perhaps I'll find at dinnertime you back today?" Oh, that was horrible. Utterly unsuited for a songbird of his caliber! The berries on the other hand...and the cream...and a perfect dessert wine! Just the right chilly edge to go with the sweetness and tartness...no, bad Arno, don't think about eating them now! Best to go back and get dressed! Bare feet and an open robe might not be appropriate for the table...unless the Lord says it is. But really, he thinks as he exits the kitchen room, he'll probably want something flashier. Maybe with feathers...

Mitama
Feb 28, 2011



Akemi

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

Akemi immediately swoops in to scoop the food off the floor. It looks like a mess by the time she gets them all back on the tupperware.

Maybe no one will notice.

Er, she seals the doughy stuff in before it goes crazy again. Now, what else does she need to cook?

Drakli
Jan 28, 2004
Goblin-Friend

"Bleak" Abby

"Bleak" Abby covers her own face with a hand like an albino spider with the jitters. The kid is not doing so well. She can't blame her either, not really. Frankly, Abby's kind of annoyed the job of hosting a nightmare was sprung upon her with exactly no warning at the same exact time she's supposed to be preparing for a pot-luck social.

Frankly, both she and the goat child need this dream to have a happy ending, That in mind, Abby doesn't feel bad in the slightest when she decides to cheat. Besides, the head chef can't let the sous chef do all the work.

Stealthily, Abby shadows the child. Her tentacled arms creep forth when the little cook's back is turned, twisting down the heat, adding a bit of spice or missing ingredient, stirring as one side gets stagnant. It's as if the little goat chef has her own crew of cooks consisting os slithery eels with hands for faces. All the while, she goads the goat on (and distracts her from the helping hands,) with orders both gentle and laden with suggestion that the meat grinder awaits if they are not followed to expert specification.

And whenever a hairy paw reaches out of the cookie jar, or a clawed mitt stretches out from behind the milk jug, ketchup, or Sunny D, in the half opened fridge to grab at the goat kid when she isn't looking, "Bleak" abby is quick to swat the vermin harshly with a heavy metal ladle. Fuzzy, natty, furry things, half rodent, half possum, half monkey, half missing link between mammal and reptile, half eaten and gnawed upon, fur blackened in patches with inexpert reheating, the Leftovers won't be claiming the child tonight.

Hopefully, once all this is said and done, there will be a whole dish for people to enjoy. Looks like it's stir fry. That's good. It's hard to really ruin stir fry.

=====

I'm Going to be Sneaky (+3) and help the kid behind her back. It also might count as being Clever (+1) for making a good dish out of what's available.

For Sneaky Krysmbot: Drakli, //+/+3 = 4
For Clever Krysmbot: Drakli, +/-++1 = 2

How'd I do?

Drakli fucked around with this message at Jun 18, 2014 around 08:34

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer

"Clarity"

She's seen this movie. She couldn't tell you how many times, though. The general, putative-audience 'you', that is, because at the moment she's alone with the memories of magic shadows. She could tell you how many times they've watched the Terminator on that big blue couch, that bosom-heaving tale of pursuit and a love so strong it turned Time itself into a perfect wedding-band loop. She could do the same for any number of the countless films They have watched, without thinking. Not thinking is an important element of the task-- thinking might lead to a realization of the sublime enormity of that data, a seizure not unlike the paralysis one might endure while looking down from a very tall ladder.

She's on a platform. She's strolling down a platform, looking for her gate. A couple, cloaked in a nimbus of pre-lapsarian greys, argues while their train builds steam and champs at the rails. They argue over where they should go, but they already know. She knows too. 22/7. It isn't a proper number, a proper place, but she can see it. It's across the way, cross the tracks, like a brass ring.

She hops down from the platform. The ground gives with the heavy slide of a feather-stuffed pillow as the straight lines of tracks and the ground they eat like zippers fatten into quilted stripes. Consult with the King of the Hobos? He knows the way to Big Rock Candy Mountain; he may know the path to other places besides. Regardless, the sound of the train yard fades behind her as she drifts, ground rumpling underfoot. No singing. That would mean the Stabbin' King was holding court. Just as well she didn't seek him. Assuming she had the choice. Dreams are funny that way. So is this story.

She knows this one. It's a good story, a classic story, one she's seen dozens of times in dozens of variations: a scene cut here or added there, a kaleidoscope cast splitting or merging from a cluster of characters in search of an author. It always ends the same way-- there may be small variations in victories or tragedies, but changing the core conceits far enough to truly change the outcome strains credulity and makes disbelief a heavier burden. Too many changes with not enough care, and the result falls flatter than week-opened soda. Hence, the formula.

That's why Clarity dozily hopes that she's waking up. It's much easier to put dreams of those stories behind oneself, than it is to muddle through them in hazy waking.

Ningyou
Aug 14, 2005

we aaaaare
not your kind of pearls
you seem kind of pho~ny
everything's a liiiiie

we aaaare
not your kind of pearls
something in your make~up
don't see eye to e~y~e


Bumping this so it doesn't go into archives. Now that my life is less of a mess, would you all be interested in continuing if i can find ~*~*~inspiration~*~*~? >.>

Davin Valkri
Apr 8, 2011

Maybe you're weighing the moral pros and cons but let me assure you that OH MY GOD
SHOOT ME IN THE GODDAMNED FACE
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!


Yes please! We didn't even get to the dinner party! D:

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer

I'd be delighted! And I'm glad to see you! Hadn't seen you in IRC for a while, and was beginning to worry that something bad had happened.

Drakli
Jan 28, 2004
Goblin-Friend

I'm game, & Welcome back!

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Mitama
Feb 28, 2011



Can give it another go.

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