|
OOC thread 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. Map  Npcs places and stuff lists wip Highlighted stats and such list wip
|
#
?
Jul 26, 2018 05:34
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 26, 2024 07:48 |
|
|
If needed
|
|
#
?
Jul 26, 2018 05:35
|
|
|
Alright everyone, here we go. If I could have you do all your start of session moves as appropriate, I’m just gonna put you in a spot, ask some questions, and go from there. In everyone’s first post, I’d like the character sheet quoted, and to have a quick montage of what your typical day would look like in the spot you’re in, if able. If not, that’s cool to. Since we didn’t get the chance in the OCC thread, I’m marking the stat that you use the most among your abilities, and if that’s already taken, I will let you choose which stat to mark. Everyone The harsh green light flickers over the landscape, on occasion the landscape burps forth the green from below, bones and dirt rolling down hills. The green is sickening, the green of a faded rot…and a chill wind blows from the west. Blackthorne – Bronze Alley The last few days have been hell; the Faerkes have somehow set up traps along the route, constantly threatening to send you off into to the pits on the side of the route; this is a main trade route through this land but the area is perilous, and the route formed out of desperation and only got slightly better from there. Rat’s Gasp is to the west, Pauper’s Barrow to the east; your gang’s nomadic lifestyle means its easy to not be tied down, but constant harassment puts a pinch on it. What do you do? Tell me about a time when you came close to losing a couple of Lems within the last 2 days, and a striking feature of the Bronze Alley out in this area. Reynard – Ammonia Falls Business has brought you to this area off of the Bronze Alley, mostly a couple of shacks around a bubbling pool of ammonia. The smell is terrible, outsiders say, and you’ve found the story to be true. The pool comes up out of the land, probably from the green below, and swirls down hills of blasted dirt and bones, many of then gnawed upon and gooped up by the soup. To note, the business that brought you here was your namesake; the Molar Queen has agents in the area, and it seems Ammonia Falls is for now out of her grasp. It seems unusually still here. What do you do? [/i]Tell me about a run in with one of the Molar Queen’s agents, and what do the people look like here?[/i] Santa Muerte – Duchy of Ricc The harsh wind blowing from the west always seems to be against you, chilling you to the bone. It’s odd, you’ve noticed that the further west you go, the further it hinders you personally; you’ve witnessed carriages not catching as much wind as you. Regardless, it had forced you to take shelter as for the moment it was too dangerous to leave the Duchy, such was the protection that the fort walls provided. Others have taken refuge, and have stirred up the area; they are outsiders, and do not care for the customs within this hold. They are skeletons that bear a red hand print on their faces, and have eyed your weapon. What do you do? Tell me about the urgent need to take shelter here despite your quest, and tell me what the place looks like a bit. Platinum – Boneatorium You’re here to play. The crowd calls for you. Something is different today; the wind howls over the opening above the Boneatorium, and Encina is in the crowd watching. The guitar hums in your hands. What do you do? Tell me about the first time you played here, and how many people you think are in this place right now, the crowd is huge! The Bride – The Maw Fortune has seemed to have abandoned you and your followers. The Skull Talkers have been insulted, and despite their lies, it seems their untoward will has stranded you, even briefly, in the Maw. There is one rule in the Maw: One visitor must be thrown into it, a pit with teeth lining the sides, descending into a darkness unknown, deeper than the night sky. This end of the Bronze Alley is usually left for trades best not spoken of. A crowd watches, waiting for an answer. What do you do? What action forced you to this wretched place, and who among the crowd watching very plainly sees your vision, and understands it? Bell – The Concert The Tribe of the Holy earth has marched for days, weeks, years across this blasted landscape, and come across this site; it appears to be a massive amphitheater, at one point. Now there is a massive crater, dead skeletons strewn throughout the land with more skeleton vultures that peck at tiny specks of meat remaining. The dead are clad in leathers and some still have remnants of beards. Something chaotic had happened here; you can sense among the Tribe those that think you are cursed, and places like this seem to rise that feeling. What do you do? Tell me about the weeks that you spent walking, and who among the Tribe has most resented you. Two Percent – Oxskull The wind here rips through the air, blowing in your face; Rustbucket moves shakily along the land, gripping bone and dirt to gain inch by inch. A massive Oxskull rises up into the night, the wind howling through it. There are figures on it, with someone strung up between the horns, the lines holding their arms barely maintaining in the gusts. What do you do? [/i]What does the wind sound like here? When was the last time you were afraid?[/i] Xiph – The boneyards near The Protector The last few days have been rough; caught in a frenzy of the new knowledge of Lakeview Cryogenics, you had let your guard down, and almost been caught drinking in memories. The Gravekeepers don’t suspect any deviance, and you’ve made a point to keep your distance, but has it been enough? Have you convinced yourself that they don’t know? What do you do? Tell me what it’s been like to live in the shadow of the Protector, and a time within the last few days that someone else almost bumped into your feasting. Three Mile You feel…a cold, shared between yourselves; the chill for some reason is the exact same, the same wind, the same touch, the same breeze. It is, unusual. Does it feel like it’s trying to communicate? Gus – Ducy of Ricc Quad-El Ricc had stopped by recently, telling you briefly that he needed to leave the fort for a brief moment, diplomacy and all that (which put you at ease as he seems to have it naturally), but he gave you something to keep safe. Shortly after he left, the wind had started, and many had come back to the safety of the walls as out here it was fierce. A group of outsiders, skeletons with a red hand print upon their faces, have taken up within the walls. It’s unclear why the guards here would have allowed them in, unless they had something of value to trade. You know the people here, what could they have that was worth letting unknowns in? What did the Duke give you to keep safe? Encina – Boneatorium Your heart swells in your chest, Platinum is on the stage in all of their glory, all eyes on them. Something is different today, a spark just waiting to ignite. The wind howls through the opening in the top of the skull that makes up this place. There is a feeling of unease that you cannot shake. What do you do? Who did you bring here with you, and what did the stranger mutter to you outside upon entering? Puma – Downside of the Arc-Royal Temple Something is wrong. The Lottery above have launched into a rhythmic chanting, echoing down into the chambers below, a chanting more intense than you have heard. It’s hard to make out, but it sounds like the wind above may even be shaking the temple. The mist here shakes with each beat of the chant. Greeler looks at you, worry in their eyes. What do you do? [i]When is the last time a chant had even approached this level of intensity? Other than the sound, what’s different about this one?]/i]
|
|
#
?
Jul 26, 2018 05:37
|
|
|
 quote:Three Mile, a Symbiote
|
|
#
?
Jul 26, 2018 13:34
|
|
|
Three Mile <Gus> The hosed-up wind keeps blowing. Green, yeah, but full of hate. Us skels are used to the green mist wafting, but that's bright and lively. This is wasted and dead and nearly alive, it seems. Don't like it. At least it's not as bad as on the downside. Check the mag in the smig. Third time this morning, but I'm on. Antsy. It's slung around my neck and shoulder, and the same with the messenger bag the Duke gave me last night. Sometimes I'm allowed to check contents, sometimes not, but there was no problem this time. So it's a pack of old magazines, right? Naked fleshgirls from cover to cover. Trade material or something. It'd make sense that meat-havers would like this sort of thing, but it's just kinda boring. I'd assume that's why I got this job, not like I'm going to embezzle these. I doubt these are going to these handprints that have showed up. I hope they've got construction skills or something? Haven't figured out the angle here, but it's weird that the Duke would head out just as a new cadre would roll in. Must be important business all around. Fuckin' wind. Hopefully the handprints can help us build a real windbreak. I doubt that Santa Muerte will help, but she probably won't kill us all. I'm only half-joking, here. Wacknut for sure, but I think she's doing well since her, uh, dramatic entrance to the fort. Seems like she likes it here, but that won't slow her march for too long. <Encina> Business has been fuckin' lit lately, I was even able to hook Platinum up with the real good poo poo to take back to their crib. And speak of the guitarist, this show is so hype. The Boneatarium is such a great venue. And, and, I can't shake the feeling that something is profoundly hosed up around here. Here, everywhere. The drat wind. Panda, on my right, felt it too. He's never been out the Boneatarium, and when you routinely tip well, well, sometimes it comes back around. But the trip here sucked, and I blame the wind. Full of hate, like it wants you to die, not just harsh like a regular wind. Trying to not let it bring the whole mood down, and looking at Platinum with anticipation helps. But that rot-flesh at the gate didn't. Just stared at me as we walked in. "The Molar Queen has a legit gun-stash," she hissed. Why tell me? Why tell me then? Why should I care? Why? C'mon. Let's get the show started. <Puma> This is loving brutal. The green hatewind. Blew up out of nowhere and hasn't stopped. It's ripping upwards and flowing throughout topside. Wants you to die. Wants me to die. Wants me to kill myself? Greeler and Spite, don't kill them. And the chants in my ears. Thump. Thump. Locarni's crying. The Lottery are here. Avva protect us. I put my arm around Greeler; an armful of ribs under a sweater. We lock eyes. The temple above creaks? gently caress. It's real bad down here. The Lottery are here. I stand. "All right," I declare. "It's never been like this before." They know it. We know it. It's a victory chant. It's the victory chant. I know it well. A rock falls from topside and whips down past the doorway, down into the miasma below. The green wind blasts upwards. "Greeler. Get your guns. Spite, get the talismans. Ki Yin, Locarni. This is going to be hard. Get the relics and the Chain." I close my eyes as the chants and wind merge into a bad vision in my head, and shake it off as best I can. "We go topside in half an hour." This is not a suggestion. The Health of the Host (ii): 2d6+2 10 NPC: Molar Queen, luckily discovered some weapons. PC: Platinum, from Encina PC: Two Percent, from ??? PC: Santa Muerte, from ???
|
|
#
?
Jul 26, 2018 14:48
|
|
|
Two Percent I slowly pull the Rustbucket up on top of a hill and shift it to park. The old gears creak as I yank the stick, as if they don't even care that I'm pressing the clutch. I turn off the engine and pull the keys out, then step out and sit on the hood, sighing. Another day like any other, it seems. The howl of the wind over the skulls in the distance sounds like a child blowing over the lips of a milk jug. Hollow and mournful, somehow. I've been out here every night for the last three or so weeks, something about Oxskull has pulled me in and I've put down roots longer here than I have anywhere else. Still, I feel the horizon beckon towards me. It will not be much longer before I leave, lest I collapse to dust having never tried to find myself. The bonewastes may scare me with their innumerable horrors threatening to unravel my weathered bones and tired soul, but nothing scares me like the thought of dying without trying. If I am to find oblivion instead of salvation, may it be on my own terms. Out of my pocket I produce a cigar and light it with a match. I can't taste the tobacco any more, but nonetheless the smoke and the smell somehow sooth me. Maybe I smoked in my past life, who's to say? I notice the figures then as I enjoy my cigar and contemplation: several skeletons atop the Oxskull, I can't be sure how many, stringing up another person between the horns. From here I can see that the victim is alive and still of the flesh-form, not yet reduced to bones and nothing else. For a moment I consider ignoring their plight, but that seems pointless. This is something to break up the monotony, at least. Hopping back into the Rustbucket I fight to start the engine back up, and pull it off the hill and towards the skull. It's not a long drive from where I was, maybe three or four minutes, until I'm easily within earshot of the skull. Gunshot, too. I step out of my car, cigar still clenched firmly in my teeth, hands in the air where the others can see that I carry no gun. "Hello!" I shout into the night, trying to keep my voice at once friendly but strong. "I was just enjoying this here cigar up on that hill, but I couldn't help but notice y'all making a ruckus over here! Everything alright?" Visions: 2d6+2 4 lmao gently caress. The MC holds 3 and must spend at least 1. code:quiggy fucked around with this message at 21:24 on Aug 9, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 26, 2018 15:02
|
|
|
 The Brainer | Harm 0 | XP 0 Cool +1 | Hard +1 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1| Weird +2 Through the Valley of Silence and Death we walk, quiet and pure, towards the Noise. The Concert. In the Book of the Printed Fiction, there is written of the history of the future, of the sound that will shake the sand and shudder the bones and break the hearts. Book believed in these things, but Candle did not. They are both Beyond us, now, back in the Green. We hear their whispers in the wind and see their traces in the sand. Kroger speaks through my hand, his brain saying more than his lips do. He is nervous about Crater. They do not wish to remain. Hannahford, she who wishes me dead, inhales deeply from her mask, and examines a bearded skeleton dressed in leather from head to toe. It is astride a large motorcycle, with a flag mounted to the back displaying a skull with a dagger in its teeth. Noticing her action, we all inhale deeply from the sacred fumes. The fumes keep the mind pure, they keep out the uninitiated, they remove the traumatic, they prevent the horrors from seeping in. "₮Ⱨł₴ ₱Ⱡ₳₵Ɇ ł₴ ₦Ø₮ ₣ØⱤ Ʉ₴" she says, the cloud of smoke escaping through the ventilator. "₩Ɇ ₳ⱤɆ ₦Ø₮ ₥Ɇ₳₦₮ ₮Ø ฿Ɇ ⱧɆⱤɆ" "ωє αяє иσт мєαит тσ вє нєяє" the tribe says in unison, the echo sounding across the plain. "ȶɦɛ ֆօʊʀƈɛ ɨֆ ɦɛʀɛ. ȶɦɛ ɢօօɖ ֆʍօӄɛ ɢʀօաֆ. ƈǟռ ʏօʊ ռօȶ ֆʍɛʟʟ ɨȶ?" I say, pointing towards the center of the crater, the point of impact. "₴ɆɆ ⱧØ₩ ⱧɆ ⱠłɆ₴?" Hannahford says. "₮ⱧɆⱤɆ ł₴ ₦Ø ₴ØɄⱤ₵Ɇ. Ø₦ⱠɎ ₳ ₵Ø₦₮₳ł₦ɆⱤ, Ⱡł₭Ɇ ₮ⱧɆ Ø₦Ɇ ⱧɆ ₩₳₴ ฿łⱤ₮ⱧɆĐ ₣ⱤØ₥. ⱧɆ ł₴ Ø₣ ₮ⱧɆ ฿Ø₦Ɇ ₱ɆØ₱ⱠɆ." "ʟɨɛֆ," I say. "ֆɦɛ աɨֆɦɛֆ ȶօ ʍǟӄɛ ȶɦɛ ȶʀɨɮɛ ɦɛʀ օառ. ɨ ɦǟʋɛ ɨռɦǟʟɛɖ ȶɦɛ ֆʍօӄɛ, ǟռɖ ɨ աɨֆɦ ȶօ ɮʀɨռɢ ȶɦɛ ȶʀɨɮɛ ɦɨɢɦɛʀ. աɛ ʍʊֆȶ ռօȶ ɖɨֆȶʊʀɮ ȶɦɛ ɮօռɛ քɛօքʟɛ, ɮʊȶ աɛ ʍʊֆȶ ʀɛȶʀɨɛʋɛ ȶɦɛ ƈօռȶǟɨռɛʀ." Without waiting for a response, I make my way down towards the center. The capsule opens at the touch of my glove, glowing as green as the sky. The smoke is as pure as I've ever felt, more pure than that which we inhale. The insides are beautiful. The Bone People begin to move. What visions do I see in the holy smoke? Open Mind Up to the Universe: 2d6+2 7
|
|
#
?
Jul 26, 2018 16:34
|
|
|
 Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0/5 | Armor: 2 | Barter: 2 Santa Muerte trudges in through the gates of the Duchy of Ricc. The guards are clearly on edge, and equally clearly terrified that she might decide to start something. One lets out a shuddering, relieved breath as she passes without incident. She sits, surrounded by candles and offerings to her goddess, performing the rituals of supplication as she lovingly maintains her most holy of relics. She still sits, but this time with scattered bone surrounding her impromptu altar. Clearly someone had ideas. Poor fucker. Finally, she's in the local chow hall, eating the meager fare as though it was the best meal she'd ever had. There's a solid twenty foot perimeter of emptiness that seems impossible for anyone to breach. --- The winds of perdition howl outside the Walls of Rigg. It is not an unusual experience, for me, as the Lady has seen fit to try my faith and dedication to Her glory in increasing measure as I continue on my most holy of pilgrimages. I do suppose it is unusual that they seem to cut only me to the bone, but is that not the Lady's way? These faithless cannot perceive the true beauty of Her love, nor the honor that Her trials hold. In any case, the winds have brought with them beasts most foul. I did not catch a clear glimpse of them, but there was a pack hunting beyond the walls. I saw the cracked bones, bereft of marrow, and the deep furrows they left in the Duke's wheeled monstrosities. I am content in my Lady's favor, of course, but I have found one truth to be self-evident on my journey: it's far better to hunt in Her name than to be hunted. Until the winds subside, if only a fraction, I will sit and prepare... and, perhaps, bring these red-handed skeletons to Her glorious embrace. What better sign that they seek it than the longing gazes they bestow upon her most holy tool? Spending the Health of the Host barter on lifestyle! The Gunlugger posted:
Tricky fucked around with this message at 01:59 on Aug 21, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 26, 2018 18:19
|
|
|
 Cool: +2 Hard: +2 Hot: -1 Sharp: 0 Weird: -1 Harm: 0/4 Exp: 0/5 Armour: 2 Barter: 2 Location: Bronze Alley, near Rat's Gasp and Pauper's Burrow Fuckin' Faerkes! As if it weren't enough for those cowards to nearly wipe us out at what was supposed to be a sacred time even for their dirty eyes, now they're back to bother us again. Mean streak in those traitors, one I'd like to rip out. But we're too few now, so all I can do is call for a saddle up and ride on. What I wanna know, is how they knew we'd be here. There aren't that many of them, never were, really, but especially now. They got hurt when they came for the Lems, we don't die easy. Still more of them than there are of us, but they're no army. I don't tell anyone my route, I'm the Ace, all I need to do is ride, and the Lems follow, as we've always done. So how did they find us here in Bronze Alley? Somehow, they knew we were headed this way. We were barely into the Alley, somewhere near Pinplex, I think, wherever The Pink Sink is. I dunno if the locals have a name for it, but that's what we call it. It looks like just another hill, white and studded with bone, like everything else. But if you climb it, there's a sinkhole on that hill, deep and dark inside, but what you can see of it as pink as the fleshy bits of a man. That much color, especially that one, is a rare sight out here. Anyway, the bastards hit us first on one of the few stretches of 'good' road the Alley has, good being a relative term. It's mostly flat and doesn't have much in the way of sudden turns, which you can't say for every road. They would have nabbed us in their little trap, sent at least some of us off into the pits around the road if one of them hadn't got caught up in the excitement, and started shooting to thrill himself. Gave it all away and I spotted the trap. Spoiled the ambush, but we still traded a lot of fire with them as I got us the gently caress out of there. It was too close, and I'm not keen to repeat it. For now, we've found a spot off the Alley to camp and get a bit of fixing in, for ourselves and our bikes. ShootaBoy posted:
|
|
#
?
Jul 26, 2018 20:13
|
|
|
 Cool =0 | Hard +1 | Hot +1 | Sharp -1 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0/5 | Barter: 0 "Welcome, welcome everyone" I say as I reminisce about my first gig here. Not as many people, but holy gently caress did they love it. Most of the seats were empty that time, but then the crowds grew and grew. I take a look at the crowd now. Huge, the Boneatorium is packed and I see Encina in the crowd. 100, maybe? I haven't counted, but that sounds good. I blow Encina a kiss before taking my guitar out. "Now. LET'S loving ROCK ON!" I bring my arm down and play, bringing the loving soul of my music out for everyone to hear, to enjoy, to lose themselves in. @Platinum: 2d6+1 Pander To Your Audience = (2+1)+1 = 4 They cough up and Reynard gets 10 barter, but my next attempt to crack open the world is a miss Highlights: Reynard highlight Hard Santa Muerte highlight Hot Blackthorne highlight Weird quote:
Heliotrope fucked around with this message at 03:09 on Sep 2, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 27, 2018 00:42
|
|
|
Reynard Cool +1 | Hard +1| Hot +2 | Sharp +1 | Weird -2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0/5 | Barter: 11 Ammonia Falls! A shining example of the kind of shitstain blight settlement where nobody stays unless they're too sick or afraid to try their luck elsewhere and where nobody on the outside would notice if it just up and disappeared one day. I figure most people today live in places like this. Anyway, I like places like this waaay more than I should because A) they always turn out for a show because their day-to-day life is about as fun as watching skulls bleach and B) I can satisfy my mean streak with shenanigans knowing I can scoot off any time and never see any of them again. On the note of B... I was checking out the audience during the show, all scrawny and anemic from the ammonia and radiation poisoning, when suddenly a whole entourage of skeletons ferried in this big goon draped in silks on a bone throne on a hand-carried platform. Guy had a big crown made from an oversized incisor. Well, 'nuff said, no need to question who he is or why he's here. Time to make myself scarce... but first, I HAVE to get that goofy rear end crown. Not worth anything, but nothing warms my calloused heart like watching a member of the Queen's Court realize he's been caught with his pants down. Right after the show ends, I pull aside this kid, a boy no older than 10 or 12, who was en-loving-raptured with the performance. I tell him if he can get that crown, I'll give him free magic lessons. Haha, that look on his face. And there he goes! Let's see how this pans out... Highlights: Platinum highlights Cool, Xiph highlights Sharp. Nonexistence posted:
Nonexistence fucked around with this message at 12:37 on Jul 28, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 27, 2018 19:31
|
|
|
 Cool 0 | Hard -1 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Armor: 0 | Barter: 5 Start of session roll: Bonefeel - 5 I traveled the Bronze Alley, but I had to return. I could not forget the treats that Lakeview promised. I convinced the Gravekeepers I had only left to trade. I brought some trinkets and some money as way of corroboration. I would not stay with them again in the shadow, but I didn't want to risk their suspicion if seem. I had to get back to work. The wait was maddening, but I spent the time to find another entrance to Lakeview east of the Protector so I would not be seen. I was careless. The Constable saw me while I was taking bones from Lakeview to my workshop. I hid them so he could not see, but I am concerned. I have never known another Gravekeeper to stray even this far alone. Still, he couldn’t possibly know what I’ve been doing. If they knew what I have done, they’d have me chained before the elders in an instant. Remembering the oppressive certainty they exercise, I am sure of it. But what I felt here was worth returning for. I learned many new things, and communing with so many at once showed me visions unlike anything I’ve seen before. I saw great winged beasts screaming over the bonefields. I must have one. I could approximate it as a great machine if only I could find the proper bones. Then I will scream across the sky. I toil now in my workshop, searching for a scent to follow. The Savvyhead, Xiph  quote:Name: Xiph Fumaofthelake fucked around with this message at 04:56 on Jul 29, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 28, 2018 08:47
|
|
|
To everyone: Don’t forget to spend your 1 barter for your lifestyle if you haven’t already, thanks for discord crew for clarifying. Three Mile Gus - Duchy of El-Ricc Wind goes on for some time, and some of the more fleshy folks assist with setting up a break; a bigass fin the size of a house set up nicely on the hill above the fort seems to keep most of the shops from falling over. You were there the day when El-Ricc brought it into the town, dragging it behind him. He never said much about it, and if it was meant to be a trophy he never said. The beast it must have been attached to would have been massive; now, it stands as a sort of informal trophy, like most of the Duke’s prizes. Poor Tobbs though, his shop was again the only casualty; the wind seemed to funnel a spike right through the side of it. Kept his leg this time. Fritty has already been trying to lean on the newcomers, and the way his jaw has been locked said a deal in his favor is in the air. Big Saw stops in to see you one day, a 7 foot tall skeleton that looks like most of his bones had fused together in some intense fire, looking almost like armor rather than what passes as a person these days. “Business been slow,” he mutters, kickin his feet up as his joints pop. Tell me about a time Big Saw helped you, and how you paid it forward. Encina - Boneaterium The crowd pours in, Platinum shakes the ground, and the red stars shine in a swirl. Panda looks on, enraptured by the performance, her posture showing for a moment she forgot the wind. The show stops, and the wind is back. Panda’s skin is bleach white, but she’s got a skull head. She wears an animal mask to cover it up, hence her name. Once, in a moment of intimacy she confided “Basically my face creeps me the gently caress out.” She turns, asking “What the hell did that dude outside say? You always got weird poo poo goin on.” Looking back, you see that same rotten figure standing at the entrance, very clearly watching you. “Toooth fairryy,” he clearly mouths through rotten flabs, then slides backward out of the structure into the howling beyond. Lasso has always been angling to get this place, what’s held him back from what you’ve seen? Puma - Downside of the Arc-Royale Temple The drumming pounds at your skull, the place shaking. The wind moves in unison with the chant. An instrument, a shrill flute echoes down the winding halls. The electric whir of a motor. Everyone grabs what is requested, though the Chain is heavy, the wind parts around all the talismans and trinkets gathered together. The Chain is held with all hands present, glowing a gold against the sickening green. A thought that is not your thought, but in the same sound as your thinkin comes across saying, “Hope the Chain keeps me safe. Holty never saw it comin’.” You shake it off as the nerves. No one speaks, but eyes and sockets meet from time to time, you have all kept yourselves safe through loving diligence. After some hours, a rumble from deep in the caverns below….your home. No one escapes the Lottery, and you knew you were on bought time; it’s lucky that you remembered that all these years. Tell me how rich you became when you ran with the Lottery, and what you had to do to get it. Two Percent - Oxskull Your words echo out against the wind, stretching and swirling. You felt something strange as you put your hands up in the air...a command? You’ve done this before. “Everything alrigh igh ighhhh hhhh”, your vision swirls in itself. Your hands are still raised, covered in flesh, desert sands blowing through your fingertips. The Great Ox before you nods, superimposed over the skull before you. “Your command,” it snorts in your head. “What shall my hoof crush beneath it today, my lord?” It snorts again, its gargantuan frame casting a shadow on the oasis behind it from the orange sun. Spending the hold per the vision. There are other figures here. Where is this place, and who else is there? Bell - The Concert The smoke is taken in, and the Tribe rejoices in its lesson. As you fade, as you become the smoke, a voice talking through gravel whispers to you, “the worm zoneeee”. A great worm, circling everything, its side so massive you can only vision it in sections slowly grinds through existence, its metallic folds scraping against the resistance of entropy. There’s something else too, something much smaller, a glimpse...and as the smoke fades, the Bone People are standing among you. Their bones are cancerous, weeping, stigmas of the flesh upon the calcium. The numbers in this container are structured in a much older way than yours. You realize they cannot speak, a curse of time upon what ambulates them. The Tribe is fearful, and you recognize at times when for a brief minute you flicker as an Other. What was glimpsed in the maelstrom? How did it make you feel? Santa Muerte - The Duchy of Ricc “A mighty weapon,” a hollow voice greets you. You glance up from your feast, and one of the outsiders has braved the expanse of your solitude. The red handprint over his skull covers up a metal plate crossing the eye and left jaw, leathers and skins in a ramshackle and worn armor upon his shoulders and ribs. He jingles as he motions to join you, assuming your acceptance and creaking down onto the bench; rings tied in the leathers hang within the ribcage, sending shrill notes like a wind chime. You notice others of his group in the room, watching, but not necessarily intently. None of them have weapons that you can see. “We are the Red Skulls,” his voice slowly reaches you. “You do not resemble the Children of Ivory that we have heard about.” His lingering statement appears to be a question. Tell me about a time you got in a fistfight with one of the fellow Children of Ivory. Blackthorne - Bronze Alley, near Rat's Gasp and Pauper's Burrow Wayjack is resting, picking his teeth with a chicken bone, bits of grease in his beard, Jumper and Farside are playing dice, Longsleeve is trimming an extremely will groomed beard, probably the only Lem that tried to look pretty. Tripper’s eyes, bloodshot as always and bags under em too, leans in, “Ace, they know where we are.” He’s had the shakes, he was Ace to a group where he was the only survivor, and got broke from it. The rest of the Lems seem to be taking it in stride; the road’s the escape from anything and everything, and troubles can always be put behind you. Cosmo and Fox have remained silent during most of this, helping when needed...but it’s hard to say if it’s cause they are aware of your suspicions or not. Tripper’s seen your lookin too, you can tell, but he hasn’t said anything. You do know that an Ace would do anything to protect Lems. Tell me about a time Tripper gave you advice that saved your life (could be before you were the Ace of this group of course). Platinum - Boneatorium The sound moves through you, through the people, carrying their hopes and dreams; the wind for a moment, at the peak, stops, and the swirling red stars appear, to a luminosity that shades the stage red for a flash. The crowd erupts, throwing jingle into the air. You notice, all but one red star blinks back out, a slow pulse of color in the darkened sky through the hole above. After the show, you notice small ivory box set in your prepare area. Inside, is a jewel encrusted tooth, and a note - A Gift from the Molar Queen. What’s the worst story that you’ve ever heard about the Molar Queen? Reynard - Ammonia Falls In almost no time at all, the kid comes back, seeming to be grinning, missing a tooth and carrying the massive crown. “Here ya go mister!” It seemed almost...too easy. You see the entourage quickly moving to exit the town. What happened the last time that the Molar Queen’s forces and Duke Quad-El Ricc’s forces fought? Xiph - Lakeview Cryogenics/Workshop Your projects, as always, consume you with the intensity that you consume marrow, gnawing away at you as you figure out the inner workins of the plans. Your projects: Create a device that will allow me to safely extract marrow from super-massive new world bones. -The best you’ll be able to do is a crap version, weak and unreliable OR First you’ll have to find/figure out what material/pressure could possibly have the strength to break the super dense bones AND It’s going to mean exposing yourself (plus colleagues) to serious danger. Create a dragon bone airship to sail across the miasma between continents. It's going to take dozens of tries. AND First you'll need to find dragon bones. OR You're going to need Duke Quad-El Ricc to help you with it Tell me about a story you heard about Duke Ricc killing a dragon to save his hold.
|
|
#
?
Jul 28, 2018 09:30
|
|
|
Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0/5 | Armor: 2 | Barter: 2 I say, "It is indeed. Xiuhcoatl has delivered many to the Lady's embrace and, by Her grace, will do so until the winds consume us all." I continue eating, for the moment, though I am wary. Few approach me without reason. Either they require my services, or they require guidance to the Lady's side. It remains to be seen. Though the fact they know of my brothers and sisters to the east... it is curious. More curious still that, unlike Gus, they know me as different from the average Child. "What do you require?" Now, thinking back, I left the settlement with some mixed feelings from those I left behind. Those of us who are sworn to the bullet, our purpose is to defend the Children from all who would prey upon them. Yet, even so, the Lady's call has drawn me ever Westward, to follow in Her footsteps and cross beyond the Gates of Oblivion. So, when I decided to answer that call, I fought with the leader of Her warriors, Calavera, when he tried to stop me. Our battle was not beautiful, nor one whose memories I particularly relish. In the end, though, I walked towards the horizon and knew I would never turn back.
|
|
#
?
Jul 30, 2018 06:43
|
|
|
Reynard Cool +1 | Hard +1| Hot +2 | Sharp +1 | Weird -2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0/5 | Barter: 11 I toss the crown in the cab of the Black Hellkite and crouch down with a deck of cards to show the kid how to shuffle to make a certain card appear on the top. As I instruct him, I start to ramble: "Hey, you watch out for those guys if you see them again. They'll play nice in town like this because they're sensitive to optics, but they get real mean out in the badlands. Molar Queen and Quad-El Ricc get into skirmishes all the time for no purpose but letting blood. Sure, sometimes one side gets turf or luxe out of the fight, but they both already got everything they need behind their walls. The blood is its own reward - keeps the hold distracted and content with the status quo. But you just look at the faces on the Queen's boys as they take the pliers to a prisoner's teeth from Ricc's Duchy and that ain't nothing but bloodlust. Bloodlust ain't professional. Can't trust someone like that." Satisfied with what I've taught him, I back up to a hidden panel in the Black Hellkite, give him finger guns and a "Smell ya later, kid" and disappear into the panel in a flash of purple smoke. Nonexistence fucked around with this message at 14:48 on Jul 30, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 30, 2018 14:45
|
|
|
The Savvyhead, Xiph Cool 0 | Hard -1 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Armor: 0 | Barter: 5 One of Coco Twilight's dancer's, Jumping Bone, is enthralled by the Duke. He told me many stories over my shoulder as I worked. One, in particular, did actually catch my attention. A great winged beast flew from the east, from beyond the land held by the Children of the Ivory, over the Bronze Alley, over Rat's Gasp, and finally to edge of the Duke's territory. It made no attacks until it reached the Duke's lands. I put down my tools and asked him, "Why?" He didn't know. He said no one knew, because the Duke intercepted it. After it peaked over the horizon, maw flaming, Quad El-Ricc took to the guns himself. Old ones they dredged up when the Bronze Alley was carved. Jump couldn't explain exactly how the guns worked but from what I could gather of the description, fired shells would split when near the beast. The pieces shredded its flesh, transforming it into pure, beautiful bone. I asked if the Duke ever used this weapon against the Children of the Ivory and he said he had never heard of such a tactic. Many of the stories of the Duke read as fairy tales, but something about this one clings to me as genuine. I wonder if the Duke kept it as a trophy, or if it bleaches at the edge of his territory as a warning. I also wonder why this attack is ill-suited to fighting the Children. I may need Quad El-Ricc's assistance in the coming weeks. And so I also wonder what additional power I could extract from his old toys. Fumaofthelake fucked around with this message at 03:10 on Aug 8, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 30, 2018 18:01
|
|
|
Three Mile <Gus> "No poo poo, that sucks," I reply. Genuinely surprised, really. Big Saw's a pretty good scav. "Wind keeping everything down? Figured you'd be good out there when nobody else was. 'less of course it's loving with the motors." Big skel, big truck. Lots of space to haul and he can pick up the big crap nobody else can. Or fit a lot of smaller stuff. Or a full load of stuff plus me in the passenger's seat. Was on my way back from the Bronze Alley and long story short I was short a tibia. So after days of limping through the wastes Big Saw runs across me and recognizes me, good fucker nearly breaks off my other leg tossing me into the cab and making sure I get home safelike. No charge. "Redskulls ain't buying?" So anyway, after I bought a new leg out of the Duke's stash, sometime later Yung Chegg was asking around trying to get his scrimshaw biz off the ground. Thought about it for a minute, told him I'd be happy to be the first customer. Gotta get your reputation started somehow, right? <Encina> "Just some bullshit about the Molar Queen." I roll my eyes, hoping Panda will assume it was just rumors. It usually is, when it comes to the Molar Queen. That wasn't, though. That was real. And I don't know why. Panda doesn't need to know that, though. And hopefully Panda doesn't notice the weird mouthy "tooth fairy" that gets sent my way before he rots off to wherever....then Panda replies telling me all about how the Molar Queen is why Lasso was never able to buy out the Boneatarium. I don't think that makes any sense, but we buy another couple shots of bad liquor from the joyboi running around and we are in full-on gently caress-off conspiracy land; this is why Panda's so great to have at the bar. Between Platinum's riffs and the booze and the wind and the chatter I think I've figured something out about it invalidating a deal that they made in secret over a long-lost fleshchild and a hidden bunker of preCalcified weaponry and frankly I have no idea but I think I need some more booze and <Puma> Step by step. It's a long way to go to confront the past. If we're lucky it won't be instant shattering, but even that would be better than waiting for the Lottery to inevitably find us and destroy us in our home. I know. I've done it. Marched right through the center of a small settlement out in the Western March. Not like there was much but small settlements, but you know. Place looked like a ghost town when we got there, rightly so. We'd been looking for her, LeTaine, for months. She had the audacity to insult Reta in our midst. That was miles and miles ago. So I was sent as the head of a hunting cadre...there's more than that here. This is the whole accursed Lottery. We are dust. I look back. We're all here. The Chain glistens sickly in the green. I was sent as the head of a hunting cadre, to punish LeTaine. We surrounded her home, crushed it with our chants. Praise Reta. And then I entered and ripped her metatarsals one by one. Ground them to dust with my hammer. She was a full-flesh woman, too. She watched as we ruined her, and as I strapped her valuables to my coat and pack. Blued steel pistols and swords. Cigarettes still in shrinkwrap. A few books. And then I shot her in the stomach, left her to die as we marched back. No different than any other. We lengthened Scratch's Chain that day. Just like hunting cadres always did. Just like they always do. And so we march upwards.
|
|
#
?
Jul 30, 2018 19:19
|
|
|
Two Percent I hold my hand up to shield my eyes from the burning sun. I would blink, if I had eyelids left to blink with. The Great Ox stands before me, and the whipping of the wind has ceased. I am... here. I have not moved, but the Oxskull is no longer merely a skull, the bone subsumed back into flesh. The ground neither is calcium dust any more but a verdant green hill, not green like the greenglow but darker and richer. I remember it, somehow. Grass, I believe it was called. I look at my hands again. Flesh on my bones, but thin and ethereal, like mist forming a glove rather than true skin. Next to the Great Ox I see five figures, but in the bright orange light of the sun I cannot make out their faces. Four as large as adults, one as small as a child. I hear one of the adults call out to me, but I cannot quite discern the words. Nonetheless I remember her name: Juniper Reticence. Whoever I was is gone now, I realize. I am Two Percent, no one of consequence, no one with memory of what came before. "What shall my hoof crush beneath it today, my lord?" Nothing, I call, but I am not certain my voice actually carries sound in this place. Do not crush that which is already destroyed! What has happened has happened, and if we cannot make it better then we can at least not make it worse. Turn from me, Great Ox, and leave me be. I sit down on the grass and pretend not to see the Great Ox or the five figures. Let the vision pass. Edit: Forgot to pay my upkeep. Spending 1-barter to maintain my drifter lifestyle, I am now broke. quiggy fucked around with this message at 20:00 on Jul 30, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 30, 2018 19:53
|
|
|
Cool =0 | Hard +1 | Hot +1 | Sharp -1 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0+1/5 | Barter: 0 Marking XP from my previous Hot roll I open the box and look at the jeweled tooth. Ah gently caress, it's the Molar Queen. I know she's after Reynard - probably wants to add him to her collection. Maybe me too, if she's sending me gifts. Queen is super hosed up. Has no problems doing what it takes to get the people she wants. A while back there was that kid she took a liking to and when his family didn't hand her over she sent her people to kill them all and drag him to her court. gently caress knows what happened to him. I stare at the tooth again, and pluck the strings of my guitar. I start drumming the floor with my feet, pausing occasionally to clap my hands and shout. Music is loving everything to me...and it shows you things, you know. It's getting louder but I don't hear it and continue playing on, waiting for it to show me what the Molar Queen's deal here is. @Platinum: 2d6+2 Open Your Brain = (2+2)+2 = 6
|
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 01:20
|
|
|
Santa Muerte – Duchy of Ricc “By her grace,” he nods, the rings jingling in his chest. “I am Chime, and I speak for the Red Skulls, and we speak as Her message tells us.” Slowly, he points west, toward the howl in the distance. “She has spoken to us through the wind, and sent us this way, and once we arrived we saw your relic.” He looks down at Xiuhcoatl, a deep orange slowly growing in his sockets. “We serve her, and so shall serve her in our sacrifice if need be; we must prove you to be worthy of Her Quest.” “Deliver us,” the Red Skulls all chant in unison, as they all stand from among the tables they were sitting at. A hum begins from the room, and their sockets all have the same growing orange light within. Chime stands slowly, the jingling coming from his chest becoming a cacophony. The other patrons start screaming and diving for cover. What do you do? Reynard – Eyeball Valley You head off into the bone wilderness, kicking chunks of bones up into the air behind you; time, as you know, seems to be meaningless out in the vast stretches of nothing. You come to rest at the top of a hill next to a twisted obsidian obelisk with a massive bloodshot eyeball on top of it, the goo on it slurping around as the eye twists from time to time. Before you stretches a small valley, filled with obelisks, and at the center a platform made of tusks carved in runes. A group of flesh skinned people wearing ivory masks stand at the top of it; it appears they are burning fabric of some sort in a brazier, the dark smoke taking shape above it. The chanting stops, and you realize that all the eyeballs are looking at you. What do you do? Oh I can’t seem to find it, could you list your build for the Black Hellkite if you have it? Xiph – Duchy of Ricc As you ponder the design of the guns, the battle with the dragon, you pace around envisioning the setup; the low roar of the dragon, the mechanics of the ancient guns, all sorts of mathematical and delicious marrow calculations, and find yourself walking along the East wall of Ricc, nodding (spent the hold). You see clearly that the supports of the east wall have been reinforced with the bleached bones of the dragon, and they now look like the main structural point of the wall. Above, the ancient guns gleam in the green light; the wind howls around the hold, apparently channeled away by a fin set atop a hill opposite the hold. A skeleton with a beard and a mismatched leg turns startled at you, burping, going “Whaoah you scared me buddy! You’re not a Tooth Fairy are you?” He backs away, looking a bit panicked. He has a pile of tools next to him, looks like he was making some sort of crude crossbow out of common goods. What do you do? Three Mile Gus Big Saw shakes his head, “Red Skulls, let me tell you,” and is cut off as the door bursts open, Yung Chegg stumbling in with bags of goods falling around him, his wobbly jaw flappin. “Big Saw, Gus! Red Skulls doin something bad at Fritty’s, they cornering that Ivory gal, it ain’t gonna be pretty!” What do you? Puma – Downside of Arc-Royale Temple You’ve walked these ways hundreds of times in the dark, you know it like the back of your finger bones, but you know they got you going the back way, the bad way through the parts you don’t ever need to go. Arc-Royale was built upon a spot where the souls got put, where the green talks you into doin what needs to be done, or so they say, and now the Lottery got you going through the Bellows, passages of crumbling silty rock mixed with powdered bones curved up like some sort of wrong skeleton, the green everywhere. The Lottery can pull the green through them here, each breath of those above blowing the wind through here at a rip, threatening to send you off the sides, and the green itself got you thinkin it’s a good idea. A cry rings out, a voice you haven’t heard in a long long time, “Pumaaaa!” The wind in the bellows stops, suddenly the chanting frozen, just the popping of bones as you all slowly turn toward the back, a figure standing there with the tattered golden cloak of the Lottery, a golden faceplate with silver plated teeth and Craps dice set in the socket. A low chuckle reaches you across the distance, and the skeleton tips his head, the dice spinning with a whir, then both setting to 1. “Snake eyes,” a louder chuckle, more menacing reaches you. “Looks like the tables about to be swept clean. A lot of links gonna be added today,” he opens the cloak, revealing a chain that’s wrapped around his torso many times. New York has found you. What do you do? Encina – Boneatorium The drinking and revelry hits a high, lots of jaws flappin and bones poppin, too numerous blitzed conversations about all sorts of odd affairs, when a horn blares out from outside the Boneatorium. Panda drops a bottle of Jum’s finest, shattering it on the floor as the whiskworms scurry out of the liquid into the cover of scrap on the ground. She looks at you, eyes seemingly wide through the panda mask. “The Molar Queen.” The Queen’s troops are there, outside the building, and on the eve of troubling news. What do you do? Two Percent- Oxskull You come back among the group, they’re talking amongst themselves discussing how to wake you up. One notices you coming back, and clasps your shoulders. “Brother!” he exclaims, “it has been a long long time.” They turn and all greet you in each, all of them a group of Followers of Lakto, their perfectly cleaned bones reflecting the light. Above, the figure grins back, hanging between the horns. You can barely hear them with the howl of the wind, the fabric fluttering violently with each gust. “That is Junk, they’re a new convert!”, the first tells you. If Junk yelled something down, you can’t hear it. Looking far to the west as you speak among your fellow worshippers, you see a desert of bone, it appears to be moving..this way. A slow rumble builds. What do you do? Platinum – Boneatorium A low note rolls out, splitting into several essences of itself, widening the gap between them as the tooth spins up into the air, the light beautiful upon the many facets of amethyst and onyx on it, the incisor turning, a great grinding filling your air as a metallic hide grinds through the edge of your vision, and the sound of boots stomping on bones, the sounds stomping closer, and you come out of it, realizing that you can hear it outside! A horn blares in the distance, the sound of the Queen’s Army. They are here. What do you do? Banana Man fucked around with this message at 02:44 on Aug 1, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 05:48
|
|
|
Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0/5 | Armor: 2 | Barter: 2 I can't help the feral grin that splits my face. The symphony of battle, the canvas painted with bone and gore... there is no sight more pleasing to her eyes. As I kick over the table and take cover, sending Chimes sprawling to the floor, I say, "As you wish. I will guide you to Her loving embrace." My eyes dance across the room as I click the safety free. They clearly are no common foe. An orange glow, worrisome, but what weapon could they hope to bring forth comparable to Her most holy gift? Still... the Lady is well pleased by an artful guidance. I'd not dare to offer Her devotees a shameful showing, nor could I tolerate it of myself. I will make their final moments upon this mortal coil worth remembering. quote:SidekickBOT Yesterday at 9:52 PM
|
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 08:12
|
|
|
Santa Muerte - The Duchy of Ricc Chimes smashes into the floor with the sound of a bunch of dropped pots, dazed for the moment and vulnerable; looking over your shoulder, one of the Red Skulls eye sockets have turned almost white, a high pitched noise coming from his head, and the skull shaking (biggest thread), and one Red Skull, a big scrawnier than the rest's eyes flicker and go dark again, he growls, looks at you, and opens the door to the outside of the pub, obviously looking for a vehicle. What do you do?
|
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 08:26
|
|
|
Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Armor: 2 | Barter: 2 As the tension in the pub builds to a thundering crescendo, threats evident on all sides, I'm the one that finally breaks it with horrifying amounts of violence. I usually am. A quick burst of cleansing fire all but reduces the noisy skull to powder, the strange light erupting in all directions from the ruined remnants. I vault over the fallen table and stomp on Chime's chest to keep him down, spraying fire at his comrades all the while. The satisfying crack of fracturing bone is a welcome addition to the holy roar of Xiuhcoatl as the Lady's hand takes these Red Skulls to her side. I call out, "Deliverance is upon you, brothers! Face Her embrace with dignity and take the promised reward!" quote:SidekickBOT Today at 12:29 AM
|
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 08:47
|
|
|
Santa Muerte - Duchy of Ricc Xiuhcoatl roars, the Red Skulls shoot beams of cold fire from their eyes; the top of Fritty's Pub explodes outwards, the sound deafening. As the dust settles, the Red Skulls save Chimes have been vaporized, Chimes just gurgling and jingling on the floor. "You are indeed worthy of her favor," he gurgles, slumping further against the ground. Ricc's wall guard look through the windows, and see you standing there. The Grendle, his number 2 motions to you through a hole in the wall. "Alright wellllll, yup uh good job," and nods and waves his hand to get the others away from the building. "I suppose you'll uh be leaving soon, nice havin ya and all," he mutters as he walks away, nervously glancing back. I'm ok with wherever you want to take this, basically you got this place, and everyone knows it.
|
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 19:26
|
|
|
The Savvyhead, Xiph Cool 0 | Hard -1 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Armor: 0 | Barter: 5 "Sorry about that... Ah... Buddy. My apologies for startling you; I am no Tooth Fairy. My name is Xiph. I was just passing through admiring these beautiful walls and those beautiful guns. What are you working on there? I'm very good at tinkering and have materials beyond what your kit contains. How about I help you out with that and you tell this traveler a little about yourself and your Duke? I would love to know more about how Duke Quad El-Ricc felled the dragon." By my reckoning I could whip up a powered bolt thrower with a laser sight using a simple battery from my workshop with little effort, though it should look right impressive to this fellow. Even without my workshop I could come up with something better using his kit, though not as visually impressive. I look around. Do I see my van parked nearby? Fumaofthelake fucked around with this message at 19:42 on Jul 31, 2018 |
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 19:34
|
|
|
The Brainer | Harm 0 | XP 0 Cool +1 | Hard +1 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1| Weird +2 Staring into the sinuous coils of the metallic snake, the entire world is reflected in miniature, a macrocosm of flesh and green light blazing like the sky monitor that hangs above us, words scratched into its surface like tiny runes all made from lines and dots, punched into the sky, punched into the metal scales of the World Serpent, the mouth eating the tail that is the mouth, never ending. I look down at my glove, a pure clean white, and realize that it, too, is a snake, living on the end of my hand, a snake that eats memories, that connects the world together, stretched across like the skin of a drum across the bones of the universe, the world bone connected to the sky bone, the sky bone connected to the star bone, the star bone connected to the entropy bone, now hear the words of our lord! "ⱧɆ ⱠØ₴Ɇ₴ ł₮", says Hannahford, behind me, but she can't see what I'm seeing, or else she wouldn't say something like that. I reach out with my hand and place it on her forehead, gently, the fangs on my fingertips reaching into her head and putting our memories together. "ƈǟռ'ȶ ʏօʊ ֆɛɛ ɦօա ɮɛǟʊȶɨʄʊʟ ȶɦɛ աօʀʟɖ ɨֆ? ƈǟռ'ȶ ʏօʊ ֆɛɛ աɦǟȶ ȶɦɛ ֆɛʀքɛռȶ աǟռȶֆ ʄʀօʍ ʊֆ?" I ask her. The bone people understand me, so why doesn't the Tribe? Why are they afraid? Why do they recoil? "ȶɦɛ ɢʀɛǟȶ աʏʀʍ, ȶɦɛ ʟɛʋɨǟȶɦǟռ, ɨȶ ƈǟʟʟֆ ʄօʀ ʊֆ. ɦօա ƈǟռ աɛ ɨɢռօʀɛ ɨȶֆ քʟɛǟֆ?" I say to all of them. "ɨȶ ƈɨʀƈʟɛֆ ǟɮօʋɛ ʊֆ, ǟռɖ ɨȶ ʟɨʋɛֆ ɮɛʟօա ʊֆ, ǟռɖ ȶɦɛ ȶաօ ɦǟʟʋɛֆ ʍʊֆȶ ɮɛ ʀɛʊռɨȶɛɖ. աɛ ʍʊֆȶ ʟօƈǟȶɛ ȶɦɛ աʏʀʍ ʐօռɛ." There are stares and turned heads. The Tribe Wanders, it does not Go. "ȶɦօֆɛ աɦօ ʊռɖɛʀֆȶǟռɖ, ʄօʟʟօա ʍɛ. ȶɦօֆɛ աɦօ ɖօ ռօȶ, աɛ աɨʟʟ ʀɛʝօɨռ ʏօʊ աɦɛռ օʊʀ ɦօʟʏ ȶǟֆӄ ɨֆ ƈօʍքʟɛȶɛ." I walk North. None follow. Time passes. The establishment says it is called "Harper's Hope" and inside people drink and listen to music played through a long flat piece of black string attached to spinning metal circles at either end. I remember these: banks upon banks of them, ratcheting back and forth, producing punch cards and printed pieces of paper with instructions about telemetry and wave calibration, as I floated in the air effortlessly with others like myself, part of a Station. Why was it called a Station? What does that word mean? "You going to buy something, smoker?" asks a man at the bar. He is old and his face resembles a piece of wood. "Yes," I reply, remembering to use his language. "Menu?" He points with his thumb at a chalkboard on the wall, where a variety of words are written. "That," I say, pointing at one. A hand falls on my shoulder. "What's an oddfellow like you doing here in the settled world?" asks the hand possessor. "Bit hot for all that heavy gear. Always wondered what you smokers looked like under the mask." "People," I say, placing my hand on his own. The other reaches to my belt and holds up my Sikorski T-17 Shortwave Pain-Wave Projector. "Go. No return." quote:SidekickBOT - Today at 3:01 PM
|
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 20:04
|
|
|
Two Percent Cool+2 | Hard=0 | Hot+1 | Sharp-1 | Weird+1 Harm 0:00 | 0-armor | 0-barter I come to, and rub the sand and dirt from my skull. What have I found myself in now? The flesh-haver is still strung up between the horns of the Oxskull, but the skeletons profess to follow Lakto? Brothers in the faith who do not remember that I have never been brother nor sister? These are not the followers I remember. I make the sign of the bones across my chest and nod towards the convert. "Greetings Junk, and welcome to the fold. May Lakto provide strength to you, always." I do not wait for his response before turning to the rest of the followers, and point towards the flesh-man strung up above us. "What is the meaning of this, brothers? Why do you torture this man so? Do you wish to calcify him like us? That is not for us to decide, but only the great Lakto, and you know that!" Out of the corner of my eye I see the desert shift, but I turn away. It must only be lingering vision. I must focus on this situation here first, because something is very wrong. Sidekick: @Two Percent (quiggy): 2d6-1 Read a Person = (4+5)-1 = 8. Is your character telling the truth, as in, are these true followers of Lakto or imposters?
|
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 20:35
|
|
|
Cool: +2 Hard: +2 Hot: -1 Sharp: 0 Weird: -1 Harm: 0/4 Exp: 0/5 Armour: 2 Barter: 1 Location: Bronze Alley, near Rat's Gasp and Pauper's Burrow Damnation. Tripper's tripperness has him maybe twiggin' on the one thing I didn't want him to pick up. And to top that off, he's also gone and picked up on some more damned Faerkes. I think I caught a glint off something on one of them, so I'm pretty sure this ain't one of his bad trips. It'll be scouts, watching us before they scamper off to find enough manpower to try and risk an attack. Fuckin' cowards, all. "Thanks, Tripper," I say, half under my breath as I think, once again glad to have him around. Trips and me go back, way back. Back to when I was a fresh Ace of my little tribe, at my first Concert. Wasn't no special than most, no new Bomber to find or anything like that, just a gathering of our whole, giant family. Like there used to be all the time, when the gods still rode with us. Anyway, he sorta took me under his wing, advice and that sorta thing. Broke down things about the Lems that I hadn't needed to notice before I became an Ace, like the feud brewin' between two tribes of Lems that are all dead and nameless now. Showed me how some of my boys and girls were being pulled in by their own little affiliations. So I dragged them out before things got bloody, one by one. Had to bash a few around, but none of me and mine had to die over what we had no stake in. I can't say that specifically saved my life, but that lesson sure did help plenty of other times.
|
|
#
?
Jul 31, 2018 21:51
|
|
|
Xiph – Duchy of Ricc He relaxes at your ease of conversation, gesturing to the pile, “That uh, that is for helping with a jingle situation,” he shrugs. When you mention the Duke, his sockets light up, and as he talks he excitedly waves his hands in the air. “Oh the Duke! He’s great! He gave me his own leg!” He sticks out his leg for emphasis. He brushes some dirt off his Hawaiian tee-shirt. He crouches down, acting like he’s manning one of the guns above, “Just like this, ka pow that thing was dust,” he relaxes shrugging again, “or so I’m told, I didn’t live here back then.” He looks lost in thought for a second, then points up to the top of the fort, where a gargantuan drum sits basking in the green light. “He beat that thing, said he could call it, he’s got all sorts of neat stuff here from legends he’s taken down to keep the place safe.” He looks up again, “Gosh if you help me with this I’ll help you with whatever you got goin on!” Glancing over, you see your van nudged against the wall, deep tire marks on the ground as if it got flung through the air and landed at a very fast and sharp turn. Very interested to see where this goes. Bell – Harper’s Hope The projector goes off, and the group inside the lazily built structure pauses clutching their eyes, a trickle of blood coming out of most of their ears. “Ahh yeahhh ok,” the wood faced guy barbles, clutching his head. “Who is thisss,” a voice hisses at you from their heads collectively, “These are my bone canssssss, I got them, they are mine.” A shadow passes over the building before the door bursts open, the shadow fleeing out into the night. “I will return, interloper” you hear the hiss fading away. Another skeleton with bits of flesh straightens up, cracking his back. “Well at least that guy is outta there,” he taps his head. “Thanks, I guess?” You have definite control of the gang, and pushed something out of it that now has a grudge. Also not sure but if you just want them to hightail it they do that. What do you do? Two Percent – Oxskull “Lakto gives us the strength!” The first one says, laughing, saying other such things, and carrying on as you ponder the situation. You come to realize that these are not Followers, as none would will that upon any and save any miracles for Lakto themselves. Catching sutble motions and nods you can see them motioning to your vehicle; Junk has stopped laughing, and now seems to be guiding the others in some sort of attempt to ambush you and, you surmise, stealing Rustbucket. What do you do? Blackthorne – Bronze Alley, near Rat’s Gasp and Pauper’s Burrow Tripper nods at your thanks. He looks at you for a moment, then leans in again, “You want me to call em out, or you want to do it Ace?” (just to clarify, he’s talking about dealing with the spies within the Lems, or the apparent spies at least) Looks like wheels are in motion to deal with a potential threat. What do you do?
|
|
#
?
Aug 1, 2018 04:25
|
|
|
Cool =0 | Hard +1 | Hot +1 | Sharp -1 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1+1/5 | Barter: 0 When I hear the horn, I move into action. I grab the essential bits of my rig, setting it up on a pack I can carry on my back. I plug the guitar in, and then walk outside to meet them. "Hello fuckos," I say as if nothing important is going on. "What are you here for? I'm very busy." I casually bring the guitar up, feeling the energy ready to surge out. And get them caught in it. @Platinum: 2d6 Bait A Trap = (1+3) = 4 Trying to get them within reach of me so they'll take harm from Cracking Open the World, but it's your choice which option I get Marking XP for rolling Cool
|
|
#
?
Aug 1, 2018 04:37
|
|
|
Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Armor: 2 | Barter: 2 After a moment in solemn prayer for the Red Skulls, so they meet Her in the lands beyond, I turn to Grendle — the man peeping through a wall as though that might save him from my Lady's salvation — and say, "My path leads ever onward. As soon as the winds subside, I will once more journey west." The figure of Chimes bears more attention, but there are things that require doing first. I canvas the corpses, or the dust that once was, for any useful equipment. The keys to the vehicle the one by the door sought, most certainly. So, too, do I take their skulls. With a modicum of wire, I'll fashion a sash from them. They wished to join me on my pilgrimage? So they shall. If there is anything worthy of barter, I shall leave it for the Duke of Rigg. He has been receptive to the Lady's ways, in his own fashion, and has the favor of one of Her crows. I would offer salvation, but I do not believe that it would be taken as a mark of the utmost favor. I suppose he shall simply have to wait until the day it finds him. Once that is all accomplished, I kneel by the figure of Chimes. I say, "You have proven yourself a devotee. Do you serve Her still on these hellish grounds of bone and dust, or shall I guide you to Her embrace?" Xiuhcoatl hovers pointedly above him. With but a twitch, he will join all those who lived beside him.
|
|
#
?
Aug 1, 2018 07:21
|
|
|
The Savvyhead, Xiph Cool 0 | Hard -1 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Armor: 0 | Barter: 5 I surprised this man just by walking up to him, so my workshop must have arrived some time ago. I wonder how l got here and what I've been doing. The loss of control is concerning but the call of the bone is even more intriguing. I slide open the door to the workshop and beckon him come. "I've just enough room for both of us. Come, I'll fix that up for you and we can talk. What's your name? How did you come to have the Duke's leg? What do you do around here? I was born to a very boring people, so it's refreshing to meet someone so... Vigorous." New Project: Finish the crossbow using the common parts provided and adding a bit of my own weird-rear end electronica. Barring an unforeseen complication, I believe I can easily finish off the basic build and throw on a laser sight at essentially no cost based on my cache of electronica. I could do more, but I don't see a reason to invest too much into this for now. It's still unclear if this fellow is a kook or someone worth building a working relationship with. Fumaofthelake fucked around with this message at 00:13 on Aug 2, 2018 |
|
#
?
Aug 2, 2018 00:09
|
|
|
Platinum – Boneatorium They approach, slowly, bone-hooks raised as they swing them over their heads. Behind, a series of siege molars are deployed, the crude carrying mechanisms stuck to the ground and shoved along by dozens of skeletons. The crowd around the Boneatorium is getting roughed up by the Queen’s troops on all sides. What do you do? Santa Muerte – Duchy of Ricc Chimes nods, jingling. “I serve her, and you. You are her champion, as I see it before me.” Chimes will basically follow you wherever, unless you choose not to accept him. That being said, Xiph is outside the walls if you choose to do some pc-pc stuff, or whichever path you want to take next, if you do you can start the scene off wherever unless you want more to do here. Of course, the important question, What do you Do? Xiph – Duchy of Ricc Tobbs is amazed at your workspace, and how the details of your project seem to fold back in on themselves as you work, offering exclamations such as “Golly!” and “Shoot!” as he sways while watching. As you work, he goes on and on in more stories of the Duke (I’d like to hear a story that he told you in addition), talking about how a boulder had rolled through town from up the hill, and the Duke had popped off his own to slap it on. You complete the crossbow, oddments and all gleaming in the eerie light. “Thanks buddy! I’m never gonna be in debt again!” You follow him curiously as he walks back into the hold, talkin with people here and there. “That’s Gus’s place, real solid fellow, there’s the Scrimshaw shack if you need any bits, here’s Fritty’s pub, a real jerk that guy.” He loads the crossbow, looking at the pub. “Well Xiph, here I go, wish me luck!” He takes a step forward and the pub’s roof explodes off the top of it, and chaos ensues as the patrons inside come running out; from the window you can see Santa Muerte’s character standing over a skeleton with a red hand printed face. Looking around, you see Tobbs coming to his feet. “Golllly” he lets out in a long drawl. Hey some pc-pc interaction if you want. Also, what do you do?
|
|
#
?
Aug 2, 2018 05:37
|
|
|
Cool =0 | Hard +1 | Hot +1 | Sharp -1 | Weird +2 Harm: 3:00 | XP: 2/5 | Barter: 0 As they move in, I grin. "Welcome to the show." I begin playing. "But you made a huge loving mistake." I unleash everything, the music blaring out of my backpack and filling the ears of everyone nearby. I feel the power rush through me, blood pouring out of my eyes and ears and nose and mouth. "Now leave. Or don't, I'll just kick your loving rear end." Since I missed my last Pander roll, I and everyone within reach take 1-harm ap but I choose an effect: You make the noise in the heart of doomed soldiers when they realize that they have lost everything they loved. My enemies panic, what do they do?
|
|
#
?
Aug 2, 2018 06:28
|
|
|
Three Mile <Gus> "Fritty's is going to get wrecked...again," I grumble. Can't keep that place intact, through no real fault of his own. "I'm sure she'll handle it, but we might as well see what's going on, I guess." Yung Chegg's a bit excitable, but he's probably not wrong that things are gonna go down. And as we're walking over there, we can hear it. "Yeeup, that'll do it," I let Big Saw and Yung Chegg know, as if they can't identify automatic fire for themselves. We keep walking, though Yung Chegg stumbles a bit. "What," I ask, "this was your idea." And then I see her. "Santa Muerte," I call out. Looking at the carnage, I say simply, "Can you just...loving go?" Hope Fritty's doing all right, but we'll get to him soon. <Encina> "Aw what the gently caress! We're being fuckin' invaded!" This is turning into a fuckin' mess, quickly. "C'mon, Panda, let's go," and we start fighting our way towards the front of the stage, towards Platinum. Even in danger, the blood pouring from their orifices indicates this is gonna be a wild ride. But then the riff starts, and something's not quite right...I can't see... 1-harm ap taken; on the NPC scale that's quite dangerous. <Puma> "They sent you? You? New York, the last skel to ride? I see you've grifted your way up in the world, slick outfit. And yet they sent you down here, first into the nest. You know why they did that? Scratch expects you to die. Expects you to fail." I glance back and see our Chain glowing, snaking through Locarni's arms. "Can't say the ol' boss is wrong." I spin the rifle; probably too close to aim but it's still a rifle. "Who'd you steal that chain from?" I let the silence build, I don't care if New York answers or not. "You can give it to us and get the gently caress out of here or you can go over the edge along with it. Your call." Go Aggro (Puma): 2d6+2 9 Threatening with the butt of the rifle (1-harm close awkward)? and the fact that there's five of us and one New York.
|
|
#
?
Aug 3, 2018 14:42
|
|
|
Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Armor: 2 | Barter: 2 I lower Xiuhcoatl, a plume of thin smoke coiling from its barrel, and say, "As you will, Brother. I march on the Gates themselves." It takes a few moments to follow through on my earlier course of action. The surviving skulls are rallied into a sash — a bandolier, perhaps — I will proudly wear to trumpet Her glory, as well as fulfill their duties accompanying me. As I said, the riches of the Red Skulls will remain for the Duke. I take only what ammo may feed Her relic, the keys to their vehicle, and a small box that clicks and beeps as I maneuver it around. I cannot divine its purpose, but there is an unmistakable scent of destiny upon it. That mission accomplished, we move towards the exterior where the vehicles await. I see a pair standing by a van holding a crossbow... unobjectionable, I suppose, but the Lady's hand is most evident this day. I would not risk missing divine guidance for my preconceptions. I stride towards them, Chimes surely at my side, and take the measure of the two as I near. The one smells of gun oil and things stranger still, the other of misplaced confidence. Perhaps this one is a maker of things? I say, gesturing at the crossbow with my eyes, "Is that your work?"
|
|
#
?
Aug 3, 2018 16:53
|
|
|
The Savvyhead, Xiph Cool 0 | Hard -1 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2 Harm: 0:00 | XP: 2/5 | Armor: 0 | Barter: 5 I follow Tobbs through the streets as he prattles on. He’s quite excitable. He told me about the time the great gladiator Twelve Foot Twelve (“golly, because thirteen is an unlucky number!”) came from the Children’s territory and challenged the Duke to singles combat. The Duke stood four heads shorter but felled him quickly. He says Twelve serves the Duke now but he’s never seen him in person. Now there’s an explosion and a very intense person here. She asks me about the crossbow, but perhaps I want to distance myself from this situation. I sharpen my gaze and hope for some intuition. Read a person: Santa Muerte: 14 What does your character intend to do? What does your character wish I’d do? I hold 1 and mark 1 for rolling sharp
|
|
#
?
Aug 4, 2018 23:39
|
|
|
Platinum – Boneatorium The army shudders collectively, stumbling to their knees, fluids escaping their faces. Slowly, they stand, as if awoken from a trance. Their stances betray a horrible loneliness, something taken from them long ago; you remember hearing rumors that no one willingly joins forces with the Molar Queen, and today’s shrill solo of pain might have made the come to their senses. Many throw their weapons down, others just start walking off, some dragged by the comerades. The red stars in the sky swirl, as if examining the situation closely. A handful of other soldiers pull out a single discolored tooth from their jaws, tossing it on the ground. “Cursed Queen,” one hisses. The tooth strikes the ground, a small strange bone plant emerging from where it hit, sprouting strange boney leaves. You notice several others do that; it looks like the Molar Queen uses an enchantment of some kind. To clarify, they are definitely dispersing, leaving most of their equipment behind. It looks like the Molar Queen has lost an army. You notice that Encina had run up and been hit by the music. What do you do? Three Mile Your consciousness reels as a biting guitar solo fills your essence as Encina is struck by Platinum’s musical firestorm. Gus – Duchy of Ricc You see Fritty crawling out of a ruined table, dazed, but somehow relatively ok. Her tattered blond hair is covered in dust, some of it resting on her bony forehead and eyepatch. “Gonna have to get someone to pay for this….” Looking at Santa Muerte, you see her gaze get a bit grimmer for a moment, then shaking her head, “Somebody else that is,” as she gazes over people in the streets, no doubt looking for someone to lean on for a debt they owe her. You are about to turn to Big Saw to ask him about something when a pain shoots through your body, knocking you onto the ground. Big Saw and Yung Chegg lean down to help you back up. “You okay boss?” Big Saw asks. Encina – Boneatorium You see the events unfolding in Platinum’s post above, as you reel from the pain. I’ll let you make the call if this is lights out for this part of the colony or not. Your eyes lock with Platinum’s as you fall to the ground. What do you do? Puma – Downside of Arc-Royale Temple New York pauses for a moment, his threatening visage halted; you can almost see the wheels whirring around in his head. He curses to himself, grabbing the chain and pulling it off, and tossing it your way. “Was Fitch’s,” he slowly walks toward you, kicking it again with his foot. “Guy had it comin’, and he had done you wrong too.” He looks back toward where the rest of the Lottery were comin from. “Now I’m as good as dead with these guys, I can’t go back without that chain.” He looks up, back to you with the snake eyes on the dice, his menace gone. “I need your help now, I don’t care about your business but I did you a solid takin Fitch. I’ll help you get to the surface, things changed down here since I’m guessin you were last in it.” Then, a vague and distant pain and the sound of a guitar solo echoes into your bones, but it passes briefly. What do you do? He could help you out, if you can trust him. Santa Muerte – Duchy of Ricc The one you know as Tobbs nods eagerly, holding the crossbow vaguely in the direction of Fritty’s pub, “Yup by golly this guy Xiph can make some neat things!” You see Fritty crawling out of some of the wreckage of the pub, and see Gus collapse momentarily. Tobbs looks at Fritty, and raises the crossbow, “By Golly, I’ll sure be free of debt now!” Chimes jingles next to you, seeming to be in a prophetic silence for the moment. What do you do? Also, Xiph has rolled some questions at you in his post. Xiph – Duchy of Ricc You pose your question to Santa Muerte, a jingling skeleton standing beside her with a red handprint on his skull standing beside her, and you see Tobbs raise the crossbow at someone crawling out of the rubble, saying “By Golly, I’ll sure be free of debt now!” Another skeleton stumbles to the ground in pain or so it appears (Gus). What do you do? Banana Man fucked around with this message at 01:49 on Aug 5, 2018 |
|
#
?
Aug 5, 2018 01:25
|
|
|
Two Percent Cool+2 | Hard=0 | Hot+1 | Sharp-1 | Weird+1 Harm 0:00 | 0-armor | 0-barter Killing a skeleton is a weird thing. You would think that a skeleton would be much harder to kill than a flesh-haver. There's no brainstem to sever, no heart to rip, no lungs to puncture. And yet it is not so hard, if you know how to do it. As fast as I can, I draw the rusty blade from my hip and hook its curve around Junk's neck. With one quick motion I can sever the spine, if I so choose, and whatever life it is that we of the bone-form have will leave him and he will be nothing but more calcium in a calcified world. I know I don't have the best grip on him, but I have no choice, the die is cast. I make my demand. "If you let me go, and take my Rustbucket with me, you will never see me again, and I will let you do what you wish to this oxen place. But if you don't, I will sever this man's life from his bones and then slay the rest of you, either today or when I bring the full force of the true Followers of Lakto down upon you. Make your choice now!" I pray they do not hear the shake in my voice. Sidekick: @Two Percent (quiggy): 2d6+0 Go Aggro on Someone (+Hard) = (6+3) = 9 On a 10+, they have to choose: • Force your hand and suck it up. • Cave and do what you want. On a 7–9, they can choose 1 of the above, or 1 of the following: • Get the hell out of your way. • Barricade themselves securely in. • Give you something they think you want, or tell you what you want to hear. • Back off calmly, hands where you can see.
|
|
#
?
Aug 6, 2018 19:39
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 26, 2024 07:48 |
|
|
Two Percent – Oxskull “Cut it off, cut it off,” Junk hisses at the rest of the false followers. Looking at you, he grits his teeth, “The plan, not my head!” as your arm gets tighter. You toss him away as he relents. “Good moves, stranger,” Junk grins, everyone clearly stepping away from you and letting you on your way. “We just wanted a way outta here, nothing personal. Figured a Laktan would be a good mark.” The first one that clapsed your shoulders tosses you a tattered book, bound in dried skin. “Learned some things from it, consider it a parting gift for besting us.” You’ve received some sort of heretical version of what would appear to be a Bible of Lakto. They are clearly letting you go, no harm no foul in that regard. Where you go next is your choice, what do you do?
|
|
#
?
Aug 7, 2018 02:30
|
|