Deleted in favor of my other submission
a fatguy baldspot fucked around with this message at 01:49 on Aug 5, 2020
|# ¿ Aug 4, 2020 17:24|
|# ¿ Oct 30, 2020 09:02|
Description: Fields of fur? So shining-white in the sun? It is blinding us by its brilliance, a slash of silver, a glimpse of gold. No, it is merely a mirage. What a strange thing we saw: an ape, an Ape! Sad, somber eyes, sunken in pale skin. A tuft on its chin. Is that singing? Are those bells? A marriage of light and sound, an ecstasy of movement, the beat of the tympani deep in the chest. She is gone. There is no shelter in her. There is no mother in her.
History: It isnít really known. Those who have spoken to her report fantastical tales of cities in the clouds, giants astride the bucking hills, monsters who rode worlds as cowboys ride wild horses, breaking them to their bridles just as soundly. She has been with us since our craft first struck these shores, though in the beginning we were not certain of our senses, and thought ourselves the masters of this planet. In our hearts, however, we always knew; we could always feel her pounding away at the inside of our skulls, watching from the shadows in the corner of our collective eye. She comes and goes in cycles of centuries. We associate her with murderous curiosity, vast crackling storms, the echoes in the mountains, and above all: a desperate, yawning need for the minerals we tore from her grasping earth.
Colossal [+10] - Her size numbs the mind and quickens the pulse. They must dance to the earthquake of her steps. She seems to shatter the sky. It's hard to look. Itís hard not to look.
The Ce‚nsong [+4] - We can hear her voice now, and it brings the taste of salt to our lips. We feel her in the bottom of our stomachs. She is the pulse at the back of our heads. She sounds the call that wakes us from sleep. We can hear her across the earth. Sometimes she sings for herself, and we cannot help but listen. Her voice makes us heed. Her voice makes us hold. (This is a Kaiju Quality designating her powerful voice. She might use it to sing and to charm or terrify mortals, or it may be applied to any scene where she speaks)
Great and Terrible Hands [+2] - She leaves them gifts. Tall levers, to build their towers. Vast pillars, to hold their bridges. She digs tranches to water their crops and forges steel so that they may tend to their enemies. Sometimes, when they are particularly quiet or the night is particularly dark, she will find them and fix their careworn shoes.
Automatic Due to Size
Diplomacy [-6] (Due to size) - They will not listen to her speaking voice.
Dread [+6] (Due to size) - She is the uncanny valley, a vast and horrible mirror.
Rakshasa's Lament [+8] - Her voice is so powerful that it may even be heard in other worlds. One such world owes her a great debt, and will send their strange tiger-men to aid her if she calls. These creatures are adept at both magic and martial arts, and their silver scimitars leave wounds that never heal.
Screamhorn [+4] - A blast of pain, a cry of harm. The Shattering Sound. Those who hear it are driven deaf, if they are lucky. They cease to exist if they are not.
A Jewelerís Eye [+4] - They awake sometimes to find their door ajar and their shingles fitting together like scales, where once they leaked. They heard the words of mending in their sleep, and dreamed of the hot, salty knowledge streaming down her face, but in the morning they do not remember. She crafts and fixes.
The Upheaval Arrangement [+4] - With staccato subtlety, her voice twists paths and raises hills; alleys loop and stairs bend; in her wake are phantoms and confusions, and she is long gone. She knows how to move among skyscrapers unseen. She knows how to make mazes out of molehills. A spell that confuses geographers, pathfinders, and keeps uninvited visitors away.
A Door in the Rain [+2] - It is said that if you glimpse her, you will soon lose something precious to you. It is said that if she sees you, your next incarnation will be as the Unfortunate Being. It is said that if you touch her, one of you will die. We do not see her often, for it is said that she slips to a secret home behind the fog, where mirrors reflect her false selves and dazzle the onlooker. Illusion and mist magic.
Houndsday Sonata [+2] - She sings the song that catches them unaware. It hunts like a hound and shows her the path. A spell of sharp senses and searching, of guidance in times of need. A spell that tastes the air.
Hunger: - 80m
Lair: - There are some who claim to have seen her sleeping on a cloud. She is rumored to have been spotted snoozing among the hills. And there are whispers of a yawning chasm deep in the jungles at the foot of a massive, snow-capped peak, an overgrown shaft filled with mist and creeping vines, where she retreats to pass the decades in slumber.
a fatguy baldspot fucked around with this message at 19:18 on Aug 7, 2020
|# ¿ Aug 4, 2020 22:43|
Sorry for the flowery prose, I was too vague. Let me know if you need me to add simple language tldrs to the sheet.
a fatguy baldspot fucked around with this message at 04:40 on Aug 6, 2020
|# ¿ Aug 6, 2020 01:42|