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Update for 8/14 recruitment: keeping recruitment open for a week or so, looking for 3-4 players, playbooks still in the game are listed at the bottom of this post, any book is allowed. Gamethread  No one remembers a time before the Great Calcification, when the sun went out and the great bones erupted from the ground, tearing down the works of fleshmen in the darkness. No one remembers when the baleful light took the sun's place, casting an eerie orange and green glow upon the land. But we remember, we remember when we rose from the new light to take back the world that was left. Welcome to Skullworld, an AW2E game involving lots of bones, skulls, and bone themed things. Im angling for some pretty gonzo apocalypse themed stuff, heavy metal album cover stuff in this. Any and all classes published officially are welcome (even those from Lumply's patron, if you have access to them). Setting this up for a week or so before officially starting the game. This is going to be PBP, keeping OCC discussion in this thread. Specific Setting Stuff: All I got right now, to start off with is some sort of pseudo world of floating islands/continents above an eerie green "soup", a darkened sky dimly lit by some sort of eldritch fire, and gigantic skulls/bones sticking out all over the place, and tribes of skeletonish people that have descended from family groups surrounding the giant bone structures as some sort of religious monument cult type thing. Character Submission: Please include art if able, sticking to a skeleton based theme for ultimate coolness (though of course you don't have to be a full on skeleton, could just be a person wearing a skull mask or what have you), and a bio for your character as detailed as you'd like. Answer 2 questions: Who is your tribe, and are you still in good terms with them? What was/is your tribe's God, and do they still worship it? Discord: https://discord.gg/qqzHR8J Okay so far we have: Gunlugger – Tricky (completed) Savvyhead – Fumaofthelake (completed) No One – Quiggy (completed) The Show – Heliotrope (completed) Banana Man fucked around with this message at 23:05 on Aug 14, 2018 |
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Jul 15, 2018 01:59
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Might app for this, so reserving a post early. I'm the last of them. The very last Bomber of the Lems. We used to be many, even after the lights went out and curtain fell. Before that? Before those dark days, the Lems were legions. Vast, uncontrollable, and unstoppable, in the tales of the classic times, we swept across the world in vast hordes, living our lives as our gods intended, at their feet in great masses, dancing, drinking, fighting, and living. For a Lem, a life isn''t a life if you're not enjoying yourself. Then the lights dimmed, and the world stopped. The gods ascended, and left us here to carry on their will. Me? I ran my tribe like our people always had, living, riding from place to place, and taking what we want, when we wanted it. There are some that will tell you that you can't cross what lies below, but they just don't have the knowledge of the gods. In places, secret to most, the spines of the gods bodies connect the lands, binding together a path stretching off into forever, into their new home. All Lems eventually follow that path, and move on to join the Kill Master and the other gods in the great Kingdom of the Worm. There, we again worship at the feet of the gods and their holy music. But now... now it's just me, and those that still follow me. Our people had convened at one of the stops on our great road, a Concert, to air grievances, celebrate, and most importantly, to find the next Bomber, the great leader of our people, the one closest to the gods. I came, as was my duty as my tribe's Ace, to call to the gods and see who would be next. Then everything and everyone were killed by death. The Faerkes, servants of the great traitor to the gods, attacked what was supposed to be a time of joy. they swept down on the Lems, and we were surrounded. We have fists of iron, and we're all born to raise hell, so we fought well... but not well enough. Some got out. I took my tribe into battle and wrought what vengence I could on those damned Faerkes, breaking through their ambush with any that I could rally. We rode on and on, still harried all the way. But we made it... barely. Now, with no one else to take the strap, the title of Bomber of the Lems falls to me. I need to keep the Lems alive, get us to the end of the great roads, to the Kingdom of the Worm, and to the side of the gods. I owe it to all those that have fallen. ShootaBoy posted:Bomber Blackthorne, the Chopper ShootaBoy fucked around with this message at 05:29 on Jul 18, 2018 |
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Jul 15, 2018 05:20
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Thinking about doing a skele-smashing Holy Diver type. If it doesn't fit, then I'll likely do a wholesome edgy skeleton gun-running musician type.
Rhyos fucked around with this message at 15:21 on Jul 15, 2018 |
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Jul 15, 2018 13:43
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 Reynard, the Skinner Haha, what's the secret to a solid show? Look friendo, normally I wouldn't do this, but you've been loose with your firewater on this long road and I don't expect we'll be seeing each other again, so here's a rare moment of honesty. People love it, when I flex my skull tats on stage and pull flaming swords out of my rear end. But the magic tricks, the costumes, all the pageantry of the whole thing, while they're great spectacle, don't get to the soul of the show. The soul of the show is that people want to both be amazed and be told only what they're prepared to believe. You have to build expectations, subvert them, and still capitalize on the momentum. That's how you light the ember in their hearts. Then you just fan the flames and people will tear themselves open before you. What's the secret to the show? When I'm wearing my make-up on stage, I'm a mirror that shows only what the viewer wants to see. When I take that make-up off? I'm the same loving thing.  quote:Who is your tribe, and are you still in good terms with them? quote:What was/is your tribe's God, and do they still worship it? Look, I don't know if the Silent Majority is an Ancestor, the Big One, or just something the Skull Talkers cooked up as an excuse to join hands and dance in circles. I know I've seen stuff I can't explain. I also know I'm deaf to whatever the Silent Majority has to say. You better believe they still walk the walk, and you better believe when I see them coming I start to bleat the prayers. You just got to be seen as one of the kind. Look: Man, Show Wear, Beautiful Face, Mocking Eyes, Quick Hands, Toned Body Stats: Cool +1 Hard +1 Hot +2 Sharp +1 Weird -2 Moves: Artful & Gracious When you perform your chosen art - any act of expression or culture - or when you put its product before an audience, roll+hot. On a 10+, spend 3. On a 7-9, spend 1. Spend 1 to name an NPC member of your audience and choose one:
Hypnotic When you have time and solitude with someone, they become fixated upon you. Roll +hot. On a 10+, hold 3. On a 7-9, hold 2. They can spend your hold, 1 for 1, by:
Special: If you and another character have sex, choose one:
Gear: Hidden Knives (2-harm hand infinite) Skin & Hair Kit (applied valuable)(Soaps, ochres, paints, creams, salves. Using it lets you take +1 hot forward.) Spectacular Tattoos (implanted) Hx: List the other characters' names. Ask 1, 2, or all 3:
Nonexistence fucked around with this message at 00:35 on Jul 17, 2018 |
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Jul 15, 2018 15:50
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 Santa Muerte, the Gunlugger In the calcified hellscapes of the new world, there are those who still hew to the old ways. Those who desperately cling to some semblance of what was and, hopefully, can be again. They need those who are willing to sacrifice their souls, cast off their mortal flesh, and protect them from all who would see them ground into powder. Santa Muerte is one such: an exemplar of her tribe and an unstoppable force of violence. She knows that there is no rest waiting for her when her body fails, only an eternity in the wars of bone in the land underneath. And, though she'd never admit it, the prospect excites her. Santa Muerte is violence incarnate. quote:Who is your tribe, and are you still in good terms with them? What was/is your tribe's God, and do they still worship it? "My tribe, the Children of Ivory, worship an old one from the times before: Our Lady of Holy Death. The elders speak of her as a force of healing, protection, and a promise of safe respite in the afterlife. But for those of us sworn to the tribe's protection and safekeeping, we know her as something more primal still: Death, in all of her glory. The paint we wear marks us as her own, yet also marks us as those who will never rest. The moment I raised Her holiest of relics, Xiuhcoatl, I knew that I would never again find peace. Perhaps some who have sworn themselves as I have regret that decision. I have not — will not — and would gladly make that same decision once more." "Yet, as is evident, I have walked towards the horizon and no longer find shelter with my fellow Children. It is not because I have betrayed them, nor because they find me objectionable. It is because the Lady Herself appeared to me and gave me a holy mission: I would find a place far to the west, across the tides of green, and there I would be needed." The Gunlugger posted:Name: Santa Muerte Tricky fucked around with this message at 21:46 on Jul 16, 2018 |
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Jul 15, 2018 17:25
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I've never played AW, but I definitely want to read all the gonzo stuff people come up with
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Jul 15, 2018 19:37
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Nonexistence posted:Also a maybe, big AW fan and concept sounds amazing just on the fence about PBP. If I play I'll be a skinner whose art is ~street magic~ Pbp does have a bit of challenge for AW but I’m just gonna focus on posting and keeping the game moving forward rather than thinking too hard about it. If needed I could set up a discord when I get time.
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Jul 15, 2018 23:08
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"Gonzo, heavy metal album themed" just screams The Show to me. But one quick question: It says to make a custom weapon using the battlebabe rules unless someone is already playing a battlebabe. Should I go ahead and make a weapon, or assume there might be one and choose ordinary gear unless no one apps a Battlebabe/I get in and whoever might app one didn't?
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Jul 16, 2018 02:14
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Heliotrope posted:"Gonzo, heavy metal album themed" just screams The Show to me. But one quick question: It says to make a custom weapon using the battlebabe rules unless someone is already playing a battlebabe. Should I go ahead and make a weapon, or assume there might be one and choose ordinary gear unless no one apps a Battlebabe/I get in and whoever might app one didn't? Go ahead with the battlebabe rules, it shouldn’t be an issue.
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Jul 16, 2018 04:38
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 Platinum, the Show The world is dead, the people are hosed up, and we all struggle. Some want to know then, why I do what I do, why I use up so much. I party, I play, I gently caress, I fight. I live. What do I offer back? What we have, what I give - music. When I ready myself and unleash my soul upon my axe, I loving open the eyes of everyone to the wonders left in this world. The living, the dead, the inbetween, the things no one knows about or sees - they all pay attention when I perform. They all loving acknowledge and understand the wonder and beauty that mere sounds can evoke. That's what I bring. quote:
quote:Who is your tribe, and are you still in good terms with them? I was born into the Bone Eaters, but rather then kill to live I left and hit the loving road when I was old enough to understand how to make it on my own. The Bone Eaters never care about the future - they eat the remains of the dead as a way to punish them for what has happened. Pretty stupid bullshit really. I'm sure they're pissed, but...what the gently caress are they even going to do? quote:What was/is your tribe's God, and do they still worship it? From what I hear, the Bone Eaters still follow the Endless Hunger. It will never be satisfied, they will never be satisfied, but they march to its tune anyway. loving idiots, all of them. Heliotrope fucked around with this message at 01:41 on Jul 17, 2018 |
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Jul 16, 2018 07:24
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 The Bride the Hocus You pass by the common area of some nameless hard-hold. Normally these places are filled with men and woman bartering the necessities of life. However that is not true today a small crowd is gathered around a young outsider speaking with a fiery passion to an assembled crowd. "--We must embrace death! caress it like a lover, bend to it's whims. For it is death that comes to us all in the end. Rich, poor, weak and strong, clever and stupid the eternal embrace is there for us all. The fleshmen thought they could deny death and fight it. But where are their works now? Buried in the great bone wastes! and the men themselves who sought in their hubris to end death, lie rotting at it's feet. " You notice her wearing the tattered remnants of a wedding gown the form beneath bony and austere as if she has known hunger recently. Gradually the crowd begins to drift away, except for a small few who gather closer eager to hear more of the strangers wisdom. quote:Name: The Bride quote:Who is your tribe, and are you still in good terms with them? quote:What was/is your tribe's God, and do they still worship it? At that the remaining handful drift away leaving but a few and the woman speaks anew. Quieter now yet still filled with implacable purpose. "Yes you have seen the truth. Do you pledge yourselves to death? To grant it's mercies to those who have earned them? To serve it as a child would their parent? Then come brothers and sisters for we shall build a new world in the bones of the old..." Ferrosol fucked around with this message at 20:18 on Jul 16, 2018 |
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Jul 16, 2018 12:20
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This is right up my alley --- ++=== Begin Log{ ::dir rec g sub sep sleep 7 dec cop deny Rotation 9 deny entry to subspace control begin Landing essential Deny thermal batteries, enter cold stapling Award armoring of fore guards Entry immanent Wake Wake Wake Sub sleep 7 rec g interrupt Wake Wake Wake Sub sleep 7 rec g interrupt Entry complete; Sub sleep 7 desg Specialist , . Sub liquefied via entry maelstrom Sub sleep 9 desg Specialist Kimber, Bell A. Sub undam Begin fix process active Recultivate proteans Dank THC mechanisms Install Oxygenation Protocols Demode tank liquid Initiate brain decalcification Initiate mem upload Mem failure -- RAM overload, declassified files still encrypted, error error root file denied retry? y error root file denied retry? n Expel Sub 9 }end log ==++  We the tribe of the Holy Earth, we walk the deserts, the brain open to the sky of death, the mind conquering all. We take that which is necessary for life, because we are People of Action. We ride our multi-beasts and take the novel thoughts from those who are mobile. We stop the static places and we give that which is worthless for that which is good. We ring the cloister Bell and those who hear its call come and follow us. We are the tribe of the Holy Earth, and we walk the deserts, brains open to the blasted land, the living bones, the flesh that is weak growing tough as stone.  I still walk with the Tribe of the Holy Earth, and I still revere their god, the holy soil that crunches beneath our feet. I still breathe the holy fumes that we are taught to make from the filtered sand of the endless tree, and still read the scratched lines of the Book of the Printed Fiction. I am not of their blood, and will forever be outside, yet they are my family. I can smell their minds, and I can taste their fear. I know that when I emerged from the capsule, they recoiled in terror, seeing one of their own so pure alabaster and untainted by the sick sun. Yet the earth would not allow them to abandon me, and quickly I was fitted with a mask and swaddled in the robes of dark brown. Soon my skin acquired the proper tan, though my eyes remain a strange red and my hair the wrong blonde. Some said I should be eaten as a gift from the sky, but they were drowned out by those who said that the sky killed those who harmed their gifts. I can still hear them now, their silent thoughts, mixing and swirling in the cacophony of exchange. Then we all breathe deep and we forget. They taught me of the bone men, and how to trample them neath my multi-beast's hooves. The bone men's thoughts are silent, for now, but I wonder at how they think and feel and coordinate. I walk with my people and I wonder, how much longer will I be welcome? I wonder what has become of my home, the place where I slept? quote:
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Jul 16, 2018 15:34
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Skulls
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Jul 16, 2018 17:49
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This looks metal and awesome. Might try to reskin a playbook as some kind of Sky Captain....Hardholder or Driver, most likely.
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Jul 16, 2018 17:51
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Two Percent The No One   How long ago did the Great Calcification happen? No, tell me the truth. I know I was there, but I don't remember it. I don't remember much of anything. I don't remember my old name or my face or the ones I loved and feared. What I remember is this: death, and pain. Since the Calcification I have fallen in with others like me, people who have ripped their flesh from their bodies and became pure beings of white calcium, whole and beautiful. We call ourselves the Followers of Lakto, worshippers of a day before the flesh failed and only the strength of skeletons remained. They taught me how to survive out here, how to lessen the pain, how to keep my bones from crumbling and my body ever moving forward. But I am not like them, for they remember much. I remember nothing. Or do I? I see them at night, visions of a broken world and of man made whole. Screams of children, but laughter too, I think. I think it is time to take this rustbucket the Followers gave me, and pursue my own path. Perhaps I will be made whole again some day, or perhaps I will be ground into dust. I do not care which. code:quiggy fucked around with this message at 16:13 on Jul 24, 2018 |
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Jul 16, 2018 18:53
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 The Savvyhead, Xiph I was born into the Gravekeepers. They and I are the ancestors of those who took refuge within The Protector. When jutting bone destroyed the works of the old world, so too did The Protector appear. Her skull protruded from the ground. Hundreds of feet across, it provided protection from the new world for our ancestors. Her missing brain gave space for our homes. Great hollows spaces where Her eyes would have been give us light. They built gates in the empty space that must have been Her nose.The Gravekeepers worship Her. They worship all bones of the old world, even human, as treasured relics. They remain a small tribe, unwilling to build beyond Her protection. They leave only for the occasional hunt, so it is unlikely they will uncover the real reason I left. I discovered, there in Her shadow, the way to commune with the old world. To crack open their bones and suck the marrow out… To taste them and see the colors of their knowledge swirl around me. They tell me how to build gadgets of their time. The knowledge that to them must have been mundane is a revelation in this new hell. Having lived trapped in the shadow of The Protector, I know more of the old world through my bones than I do of the world I was born into. The people, their cultures... Most I have seen are uninteresting to me beyond what supplies I can extract from them. I can not conceive of the punishment the Gravekeepers would levy me if they knew my truth. They would consider me an aberration; the ultimate defiler and traitor. But yet I know the truth of what I do. The dead seem happy to speak, even if I can not yet speak back. Would they share their knowledge as they do if they were so opposed? As I seek purpose in life, they seek purpose in death. And so I create trinkets of the old world to pay my way through the new. I adorn myself in their long-left tools. I build my collection of bones and abandoned machines and twist them to new purposes. I will continue this until the day I am able to return to The Protector. Though I worship her no longer, I tremble in anticipation of our reunion. On that day, in the blistering heat of knowledge, I will taste Her marrow and allow her to whisper her long kept secrets in my ear. What a day that will be for us both. quote:Name: Xiph Fumaofthelake fucked around with this message at 23:13 on Jul 16, 2018 |
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Jul 16, 2018 19:56
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These submissions are looking awesome, when you’ve finished your app please post so I can take a gander and throw a couple more questions at ya.
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Jul 16, 2018 22:22
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I'm satisfied with mine.
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Jul 16, 2018 22:25
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Done with mine!
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Jul 16, 2018 23:07
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I statted out my ride and made a couple very small tweaks. All good now.
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Jul 16, 2018 23:13
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I'm good 
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Jul 17, 2018 00:12
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Done with mine.
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Jul 17, 2018 00:25
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Finished mine as well.
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Jul 17, 2018 01:43
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 quote:Three Mile, a Symbiote I emerged sometime after the Great Calcification, but I have been here for quite some time, in various forms and guises. I am Three Mile; I am currently, Puma, Gus, and Encina; I have been C. Dune Riley, Amanda 89, and Thorch. I have been Friar Jum, and Baracum, and Holty. I am a collection of consciousness, one and many, and the details of my existence remain rather unimportant to you, for now. For now, I suppose. <Gus> I'm working for the Duke right now, near the Children of Ivory's territory, but the Duke's carved out a holler. I say near, but that really just means "near as anyone gets." They're wild, and if they weren't so focused on grinding us all to dust, they might be fun. As it is, they're terrifying. I'd rather be on the Duke's side, at least he believes in something. We've got a little fort and all. That's something. It's not nihilism. I know about the Children and their warriors. And one warrior in particular though. Vicious through and through. And yet she needed ol' Gus' help on her 'pilgrimage,' she called it. Keep that in mind, now... <Puma> Haven't seen any Lottery skels in years down here. Ran with that crew for some time, but eventually me 'n Greeler had enough. Most people don't escape the Lottery; hell knows I've seen to that myself more than a few times. We came down to the one place we though they'd never look; the downside. Downside of Arc-Royale, too. You can hear the prayer reverberating down though the big skull that makes up the Arc-Royale temple. I like to think Avva keeps the Lottery away. Avva and Reta, two sisters at war for eternity. They said Reta never let us down, back in the Lottery days, and I believed that as much as any skel. <Encina> Cookin' all sorts of things for Lasso's a pretty great gig, I got to say. Lasso and Bing Carrera run the Pinplex, and I've got the goods without as big a target on my ribs. Lively people, lively deals, and don't say it ever gets boring around here, especially not when that fuckin' guitarist is here. Daaaamn. Whispered my thanks to the Allsaint first time I layed my eyes on them, but the big brothers don't like that prayin' stuff much. I try to keep in their good graces, but the Allsaint's lookin' out for me, yanno? I'm set. Captain Foo fucked around with this message at 19:17 on Jul 25, 2018 |
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Jul 17, 2018 03:07
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Nonexistence posted:I'm satisfied with mine. Just to clarify, are Bone Speakers like the official title of the Skull Talkers? Or different names of the same people, or different factions within the same people?
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Jul 17, 2018 03:59
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Banana Man posted:Just to clarify, are Bone Speakers like the official title of the Skull Talkers? Or different names of the same people, or different factions within the same people? I was riffing on Ferrosol's most excellent piece, but my reading was that the Bone Speakers are the general group and the Skull Talkers are the charismatic leaders of that group.
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Jul 17, 2018 04:16
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Nonexistence posted:I was riffing on Ferrosol's most excellent piece, but my reading was that the Bone Speakers are the general group and the Skull Talkers are the charismatic leaders of that group. Oh crap lol alright more reading for me then. Thanks for the quick response.
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Jul 17, 2018 05:26
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Reynard: When has claiming to be a Skull Talker gotten you in some deep poo poo? Whats it like to be one of the few fleshed worth lookin at? Santa Muerte: On your pilgrimage to the west, you walked through madness itself; On the the 32nd Day, a crow had landed on your shoulder to guide you further. What did you see where you had stood? What does Xiuhcoatl sound like when it fires? Also, occ take a look at Captain Foo’s character and let us know if you’re ok with the option he took for his person. Xiph: What was the most powerful vision the dead had given to you? What structure has the Protector’s form sheltered, deep in a field of bone that only you know of? Two Percent: What have you seen out in the bonewastes that’s frightened you? What sound follows you day after day, just over the horizon? The Bride: Who among your flock is your most devout? When did you first learn that the Skull Talkers were false? Platinum: How did the Axe come to you? What happened the first time you played it? Also, occ take a look at Captain Foo’s character and let us know if you’re ok with the option he took for his person. Toph Bei Fong is your app complete? It looks like it but just double checking. Banana Man fucked around with this message at 08:06 on Jul 17, 2018 |
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Jul 17, 2018 08:01
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Banana Man posted:
The Axe? This fuckin thing? It was meant for me. I had run from the Bone Eaters, and was crawling across the lands. There, out in the open, was gnarly looking axe clutched in the crumbling bony arms of a immobile skeleton. Delirious, I grabbed it. The bone hand grabbed back, and so ensued a loving tug of war. I pulled it close, and the skeleton's arm came off. But it didn't stop trying to hold it, oh no. It grabbed me by the throat and squeezed, intending to ensure only it would have the Axe. And with it so close...I played a few notes. The arm stopped, and here I was looking at this loving magnificent instrument, saved from death by my own music skills. I just slammed it against my side strumming wildly. The music came out from the guitar. The music came out from ME. The skeleton watched and stared. Above, in the dark sky, pinpricks of light glimmered. They formed eyes, which watched me. I went wilder, not even caring what I did or how long I was doing it. More skeletons came, more dots littered the sky, and I was shouting and crying and yelling - none of which could have been heard above the noise the music made. I gave them all the first show of my life. I realized what I was, what my purpose was, what I was to do. And I finished. When I was done the eyes in the skies vanished, the sounds echoed away...but the skeleton stayed. And it gave me a way to carry everything I need on my back. It pointed somewhere and breathed out a final, dusty, phrase: "ROCK ON" Then it crumbled to dust, never to form again. I followed the direction my friend had pointed me to and found my new home. My new master. My new life. My new friends, enemies, allies, fuckbuddies, fans, haters, everything I want and need. All because I saw something cool in the desert and decided to take it for myself. OOC: Yeah I'm fine with the option for Encina, although Platinum uses they/them pronouns.
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Jul 17, 2018 08:57
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Heliotrope posted:
You got it!
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Jul 17, 2018 13:43
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Banana Man posted:Two Percent: Two weeks ago the Rustbucket climbed up a mound of skulls and I peered down into a nigh-endless valley of death and silence. Though the bones below me looked lifeless, I could still feel souls clinging loosely to them, bound to them as I am to these bones of mine. And upon those bones I saw something I can only begin to fathom, great creatures of rotten flesh feasting upon the souls bound to the bones and devouring them whole. I hope that someday, I can sever myself from these bones and be free, but not like that. I will take this eternity of torment over that. Since that day I have fled in the opposite direction of the valley of death and silence. I have seen none of the flesh-crawlers, but I still hear their sounds echoing at night, like a grinding sound of metal on metal. They're coming for me. I fear the flesh oblivion I will be cast into if they should catch up to me, and feast upon my essence as they did those poor folk trapped below me in the valley. I must escape.
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Jul 17, 2018 15:03
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 flesh oblivion
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Jul 17, 2018 15:07
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Banana Man posted:Santa Muerte: "The journey in Her footsteps was one of fire and blood, bone and suffering. I saw those bereft of Her promise of salvation, shambling creatures of death and decay, tearing each other apart and forming immense behemoths of bleached ivory. No few attempted to add my own bones to their collection, but I showed them Our Lady's Light. The sacred canisters of Exem Ten-Sixty cleansed them of the darkness that drove them and saw their impurities burned clean by the fire. The Lady smiled upon me that day, more than ever before." "But that is not what you wished to know. You wished to know of the crow that guided me on. There were two, as it happens, though only one bore wings. I shall tell you of that first, then the wingless crow that followed. Not long after I cleansed the walking boneyards and guided those within to the Lady's waiting arms, I found myself climbing through an immense construction of spiraling ivory. It took hours, if not days, and I finally collapsed upon a platform surrounded by five spires. It was there that Her crow found me." "A curious creature, many-eyed and cawwing terrible truths, but one that I immediately felt kinship to. I did not know the why of its presence, then, but as I gazed upon it... I felt myself slipping from my own frame into that of it. The crow — with my spirit in passage — flew up towards the eldritch flames that haunt the skies. It wheeled for some time, the land seeming small and remote, and then I saw it. The platform my body still lay upon? An immense arm, grasping upward from deep within the tides of green. I know not what creature could have been that great, but I do know this: By the Lady's grace, I'll have the chance to shepherd one such into her arms. Afterwards, I awoke once more in my mortal frame. I knew that I was on the right course and need only continue to the west." "The second crow was no crow in body, though he was in spirit. Many days after the first, I found myself in the Duchy of Ricc. The Lady's grace fuels me, of course, but I must admit that I was failing under the burden of Her pilgrimage. The guide she sent, Gus, offered me sustenance and shelter in my time of need. I offered to guide him to Her arms, in thanks, but he deferred. She needs Her crows, just as She needs Her hands, I suppose. Instead, I promised that I would help him with the duties She gave him, should he speak to me of them." "And, of course, you wish to know of her sacred relic? Xiuhcoatl makes the noise that the old-world demons did when Her fires cast their wings of aluminum and chrome down from the heavens. It makes the noise of damnation and regrets unspoken. It makes the noise of a legion of bone and armor, marching towards glorious battle. It whispers all of our Lady's regrets and screams Her hopes for salvation." quote:Also, occ take a look at Captain Foo’s character and let us know if you’re ok with the option he took for his person. I am certainly down, though there's a bit of a snafu with the fiction as established: the Children are basically pacifists and far to the east, so it doesn't really fit with the portrayal of them as terrifying death cultists bordering the Duke's territory. Santa Muerte is more the exception to her tribe than the rule. So maybe, instead, it could be that Gus helped Santa Muerte at some point on her pilgrimage and she owes him big. Tricky fucked around with this message at 16:21 on Jul 17, 2018 |
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Jul 17, 2018 15:14
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Tricky posted:I'll finish this up later this morning, wanted to address the second question first thing. Maybe Gus doesn't know the Children as well as he thinks he does? I could definitely see him informing some of the stories springing up about them, especially if most of the actual experience anyone has of them is through Gus' assistance of Santa Muerte, who is much more like he describes?
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Jul 17, 2018 15:32
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Sure, that certainly makes sense.
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Jul 17, 2018 15:35
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Tricky posted:Sure, that certainly makes sense. cool; re-wrote the <Gus> section a bit. Let me know what you think.
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Jul 17, 2018 15:49
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Banana Man posted:Reynard: Haha, boy do I have a story for this. This one time I was doing a show outside the gates over at Pauper's Barrow and I was reeeally leaning into my Skull Talker bit. You've got to read your audience, you know, and these guys were total ghouls and they were eating that spooky poo poo up. So while I'm performing, I'm also scoping out marks for after the show - in one corner towards the back, I see a bunch of stiffs with hollow eyes, and they're all dressed the same - clothes said wedding, faces said funeral. What caught my eye was that they each had dozens of wedding bands on their fingers mounted with tiny skulls instead of rocks. This signalled three things: sweet luxe, connections, and the hope of a package deal. So I target the most vulnerable one - young, ruined beauty, bit of a glimmer in her dead eyes - and I'm throwing her looks the whole show. No obvious response, but she and her posse still stuck around after. I went up to mingle and things started ok, but then one of her comrades started getting real heavy pushing me on the Skull Talker stuff. Then they all set in, ranting words clearly someone else authored for them about Skull Talkers being false prophets, something about a Bride, and pledging to death. For hating Bone Speakers, they sure did talk like them. Same poo poo, different toilet. The one I had eyes on suddenly slashed me with a dagger out of no where and I felt my body go heavy, then limp, then dead. That's how I felt anyway. When I woke up, I was in a coffin in the pitch black. I could taste the sand that had worked its way through the cracks. I knew I was six feet under and that there was no hope. I don't know how long I was stuck there, crying in the darkness. Then I heard something, low and scratching, like bones rattling against the underside of my coffin. I was more dead than alive at that point, and just assumed this was death come a'knockin, but the scraping kept going on and on and I could feel my coffin rattle and lift. Suddenly I saw moonlight streaming through the cracks of the lid. I rolled out of my tomb and looked for my savior - first around the desert, then into my grave, then up at the starry sky. No one was there. As to the looks, for the most part they're just another prop to sell the image. I don't have any ego or anything wrapped up in it, just helps to draw in the mark. Haha, really most times I don't even feel like I'm in my body, just making a marionette dance for its audience while the real me is just... off somewhere else. Is it weird to feel you don't have skin in the game when it's literally your skin in the game? I don't know, I've learned introspection isn't my strong suit so I've just kinda stopped questioning it. Nonexistence fucked around with this message at 16:02 on Jul 17, 2018 |
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Jul 17, 2018 15:56
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Captain Foo posted:cool; re-wrote the <Gus> section a bit. Let me know what you think. Looks good! I added a bit of Santa Muerte's views on things to my response, let me know if that fits what you're thinking.
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Jul 17, 2018 16:22
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Tricky posted:Looks good! I added a bit of Santa Muerte's views on things to my response, let me know if that fits what you're thinking. Looks good to me!
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Jul 17, 2018 16:25
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Captain Foo posted:
We just announced for Maryland Deathfest, be sure to come on down and thrash with us
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Jul 17, 2018 20:01
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