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 Angeliar God of Angling and Deep Sea 3/3 HP, (+1) "Sorry, we're out of snowquats." The minder of the food stall at the Twombian mall bowed apologetically. A customer ruffled his feathers in exasperation. "Still? I need those for the dessert, for the party! When are you going to get more?" "Not anytime soon." The trader stated. "The whole orchard got ruined by a waste spill." "How about cucumberg?" "Bad harvest. Too cloudy." "Oneons?" "Sinkhole." The customer, Glowain by name, groaned. "Well what do you have?" "We've got the fish with green eyes and lots of mouths." "I don't like those. They make me puke blood." "Join the club." "I did!" Glowain tapped the ANGLER pin on his scarf. "Ah, then you get a discount." --- The birthdays were an awkward affair. The squirming casserole was not well received. The ancestors simply politely refused to touch it, but the corporeal guests, quite hungry by then, had no such option. It ended badly. Everybody went home early, leaving Glowain alone with his family. "Don't take it personally, dearie. Everybody's just a little on the edge lately." Shimmer cooed her husband. "I know." He sighed. "...It is good and all, that the Anglers are still keeping the city fed thorough the famine, but... Would it kill them to catch some normal fish for once? Its nothing but this weird abyss stuff lately!" "Yeah, but who are you going to complain to? The trawlers don't take their orders from the city, not anymore." "Oh, I know just the person I'm going to complain to!" Glowain stood up. "I think it's time to pay the Fischanic a visit. Really give those Anglers a piece of my mind!"     Its cold. The room is dark. It reeks of rotting fish. "A memory of a loved one. Nice catch boss!" The circle of cloaked figures chuckled, their voices sinister. "Bah." A massive being exclaimed. "I was aiming for a childhood experience... I'm losing my touch." Angeliar removed the memory from the hook and placed it in an aquarium, along with many others. Another Angler exclaimed "Early life? You're using the wrong lure for that, boss." The god checked his line. "Oh, you're right. Silly me." "W-w-where... am I?" Glowain slowly stammered. "He gripped his head. T-t-the Fischanic? Yes... I was going there... in order to..." "Now, Glowain was it?" A cloaked shiverm wearing a necklace of rotting fish heads moved forth. "I think you had something to say to us..." The circle closed in, and the shiverm leaned down, bringing his mouth very close to Glowain's face, letting out an absolutely foul abyssal breath that made him gag. "You've some complaints about how we run things here, do you?" That was enough. Glowain ran. He shoved his way through the circle, scrambling out into a corridor in panic. He dashed up the stairs, reached the open night sky, and flew. He flew and never looked back. Far down below the shiverm looked up to his shrinking form. "...Maybe I need to start flossing." --- For a while he reflected on the notion. Then, Angeliar's voice boomed from downstairs "Chille! Come back here!" The shiverm groaned. "For the thousandth time, I'm Frosty. Chille was my grandfather." "Stop whining and get down here Chille!" Frosty did as ordered. Angeliar was bit of a pain but dealing with his eccentricities was well worth it. Having a living god on their side meant that the Anglers could do anything they ever wanted with no repercussions whatsoever. Anything. Theft, murder... Not even the Heroes dared to raise a stink about their actions. It was awesome. "Well, what is it boss?" He found the god chewing on a fish bone. "I'm bored. What do I do?" The question made Frosty reel. Something... to entertain a god? How was he supposed to know?! "I d-dunno!? I mean, what could there possibly be that you haven't already-" KRA-BOOOOM And just then, the entire world shook. The sky flashed in unnatural colors, the rivers ran backwards. Magicks ran awry and the trains were on time. It was clearly the end of the world. And, in the midst of the panic, the commotion, there was one person that did not budge, one who did not utter a single cry of terror. Angeliar stared straight up, into the bleeding heavens, rent asunder by Wedge's return. Finally, he smiled. He rushed up into the bridge of the Fischanic, and grabbed the wheel once more. He spun it left, the platform groaned as it rotated that way. He spun it right, supports cracked and shattered as the massive structure tilted the other way. Then, having warmed up, he spun the wheel upwards. --- Splotcha, an inhabitant of the Flickerfare, 516 years old, gave the following account of the events of that day. "It was the darnedest thing. A whole dang building or something, just flying through the air? That ain't right, but I saw it happen with me own eye. I was inking the plants on the balcony when it happened. Scared me silly it did. Thought that maybe there had been yet another collapse, but no, it was going up, not down. Later I heard that it was that them fishing center that the living are raving about these days. I don't give a _________ about what the dumb kids are up to, but that 'Fischanic' of theirs gave me the creeps, still does. It went right up to the high point, between Twomb and Oneder, right in between, near the door, where the world gets all funky. Not a popular area. Very low apartment prices. But that's where this god wanted to live I guess? No good. No good at all can come from that, but that's where the thing is still anchored. Gives me the creeps. The people there are so rude." ----  Angeliar stood on the deck of the Fischanic, gazing out into the vast darkness. The Ocean. The Anglers, normally very casual and chummy with their god, all knelt down in prayer, it felt like the right thing to do, out here on the edge of existence. Angeliar raised his fishing rod, not any random one but the one. The blue one with white outlines, the one from his icon. This generation of Anglers gasped in awe to have witnessed it. "I'm going to do it, watch me buds." The god boasted, looking up to the bleeding wound in the cosmos. "I'm going to catch a big one." The god of Angling and Deep Seas cast his line. Bring the Fischanic up to the apex of the Flickerfare, and before it closes, making use of the tear in the Barrier - Catch a new random Aspect from the Ocean: 1d20+1 17
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Mar 26, 2024 07:27
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+1 to Angeliar. Gonna need all the good luck a fishing god can get, I expect. Wisp'n: 3 Remains: --
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Mar 26, 2024 16:45
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+1 Angeliar 2x - 1x N/A remaining.
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Mar 28, 2024 18:45
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   Tweet gathered his flock of Ghosts and People (and the scattered, bemused Fae drawn to his ministrations) and shared with them his God’s vision of the world and how it might be. He demonstrated the ability of particularly talented Ghosts to possess objects and - with the utmost sign of trust - his own Heroic body, as he slipped outside his own mortal form. Letting the boundaries between his Spirit and others slacken, he taught them to mingle and merge, swirling like Ink and Neon together in an etherial colloid that was not a loss to any, but a gain.  In a mesmerizing whirl of luminous energy, Tweet and his followers formed a mystical circle, their Spirits intertwining and merging like threads of shimmering light. As they embraced this shared unity, a profound sense of empowerment filled the air, infusing each participant with a newfound sense of purpose and connection. With each passing moment, the collective strength of their combined Spirits grew, resonating with the pulsating energy of the world around them. Together, they forged a bond that transcended the boundaries of mortal existence, weaving a tapestry of unity and resilience that stretched across the fabric of reality itself. In this moment of shared enlightenment, Tweet and his companions embraced the teachings of Hakurei, the divine wisdom of Spirits As One. (Tweet gathers himself quite a little cult! In a world struggling with loss and alienation and separation from their homeworld (that latter fixed somewhat now, but the trauma remains) a religion based on tangible connection to others is quite popular. Particularly since the connection has actual effects - Spirits so mingled can share memories, experiences, even magical aptitudes. It can’t be maintained long without risking permanent ego damage, but it’s not very hard to do if you’re in the right mindset and Tweet or a willing Ghost is able to mediate.)   The sudden appearance of an enormous, ghoulish Plungerboa on the wreckage of Arisaurna sparked an almost religious excitement, its smiling figure heralding the end of days… until you saw it up close. Or, er, relatively close, given its size. For a brief, shining moment, the People of Twomb thought the Plungerboa had returned, taken on some divine avatar, but no - just this mockery conjured up by some God or devil. It didn’t seem to be outright harmful, at least. Mostly it just capered and danced, streaming with ichor from a thousand sources and the at least a dozen People that had gone into its form. But it was hard to keep an eye on it when something else was so much more immediate in its need for observation.  The demon of Oneder, the Bleeding Edge, the cursed-Hero Wedge of the Aardiche had somehow become impossibly, horrifyingly real. He was enormous in a different way - tremendously larger than any Person, certainly, but his Significance to the world seemed to warp the space around him, he and his many-bloody Axe Remnant. He who had Watched the Ocean, who had felt its waves against his Axeflesh, watched and listened and tasted this world he’d only briefly gotten a sighting of before his banishment and felt… confusion. What exactly had happened to him, to this place? Why did everything feel so wrong? There was a hollowness to the world, to his body, to his soul, something missing something MISSING! And then he at last awoke to the titan who shook the world, squinted through the polluted shadows up and up at this great thing, at his great Enemy. And…  The Prey had followed him, had challenged him, had… had… but what was this? What was this? A God flitted about him, counseling half-hearted calm, but Wedge felt anything but calm. A strange anxiety rose in him like bubbling Ink, pressing up at the surface of him. M’eheh condescended upon him, and he couldn’t muster up the old irritation at the divine intrusion… until the God told him he could fight this giant, if he wished. All at once, his confusion and existential terror and malaise sank between Axe-Red blood, and he launched himself at the titanic mockery. He would tear it apart, and then he would keep tearing until he understood what was happening. (TODDLES LOSES 1 HP! The Plungerboa-Golem-Thing rises over Twomb and basically just dances and wanders, as Skritch didn’t bother doing much of a pass on the whole behaviour-and-brains part of the design. Its insides are a terrifying mess of mismatched organs that only sort-of fit together and they are making for a questionably-educational field trip - particularly since great bits of its insides are becoming outsides! Wedge is mad with rage and confusion and is taking out his rage on the titan, which is theoretically good for Twomb but in actuality is still causing a tremendous amount of collateral (and very gross) damage. Wedge didn’t quite ignore M’eheh’s suggestion to calm down as much as selectively listen to the parts that allowed him to fight this grisly totem of his fallen foe. He really doesn’t have any idea what’s happening at all!) In the shattered air above the fight, a bright, sickly light leapt in, trailing sparks like a lashing tail. Intruder Wisp Tsabast, (The Fragment of Adam is found and lost - but uncovered. Uncovered, buried, buried, lost in the past with rest of the accumulated refuse of progress. The one - Person or God - who would find it would gain the power of the fallen God and a portion of His power. I wonder how to find it?) Flare, God of Heroes, ignored the trials above and turned to face a forgotten people - though not truly People at all - not yet. The Devouring One, twice-touched and self-bound atrocity, pulled and twisted at the prison that was its body, was all of the Garden, rankling at the intrusion. Flare sidled past its defenses, scraping Himself raw but at length clearing a space where He might speak to the Lestattoo. He rose within them, inspiring their resolve… and found to His disappointment precious little. Hollow creatures of want and instinct, with nothing resembling the spark of true People. His power poured into them and vanished utterly… but wait… there was something. One divine hand touched an upraised claw - and then the Devouring One cast them both out, launching them out of the Inky depths. Flare, and something else - someone else.  A singular Lestattoo blinks up at a sky it has never seen, but remembers dimly. It is frightened. People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too. (FLARE LOSES 1 HP! One Lestattoo becomes… a Person. A new Person of Ink and memory, barely a sketch on the world. It is confused and empty, but bears within it the fervent desire to Explore! It is Malleable and Imitative and Always Hungry …Squild cannot stand its presence, hating it utterly by instinct. They cannot bear its presence, nor be made to bear its presence.) Angeliar, God of Angling and the Deep Sea, ignored the trials below and turned to face the sky. The Ocean. The home of the Gods, the churning depths of endless, unchanging chaos of nothing. A home Angeliar would never see again, except by dimly peering into the night sky. Welp. The God baited his hook with the very finest dreams and hopes and memories of the People in his Aquarium, woven and bound into a tasty glob. He drew back his rod, the force of the wind up causing the already damaged Flickerfare to creak ominously, causing Neon flashes to arc among the clouds of pollution. He took careful aim into the bleeding heart of the rent in the sky, and Cast.  The line extended up and up and up… and up. It spooled out into the inky, perfect darkness of the Ocean, darker than darkest Ink, an Un-Neon that tore out the minds of the People who witnessed its immensity. Angeliar, for a moment, a brief moment, worried that He had pushed his luck, that the line would keep unspooling until He himself did… and then He felt a tug. Gripping the Rod, His Icon, He hauled for all his might. Something slid through the crack, slippery and raw and bleeding. (Unbelievably, the God of Angling has caught a loose Aspect in the Ocean! Every Wisp may offer up to five Aspects. As a reminder, an Aspect is one of the three sub-elements of a Material. The Aspect, raw and shorn from its foundation, will attempt to meld with a damaged Material. This will likely result in some drastic change in the Material in question… Angeliar himself is unscathed by this process, but only by the skin of his teeth - meddling with the Ocean is a risky process…)
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Apr 4, 2024 19:35
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The Aspect of: Mending Fixing Repairing Regrowth Regeneration
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Apr 4, 2024 19:43
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Fossilization Printing Heft Enticement Slipperiness
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Apr 4, 2024 20:18
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 Hakurei, Goddess of Spirit HP: 3/3 Hakurei saw their bond, them mingling their Spirits together. A cozy little family, Spirits intermingling. And one that will only grow with time. Soon, everyone was all together, mingling, sharing unity and resilience and leaning on each other. With a small nudge, Hakurei urged Tweet to get his whole "cult" together once more. Once the enthralled, the Spirits, the people, the ghosts, even some bemused Fae all congregated in one spot, the cold comfort of Hakurei caressed all of them, a soft mist settling around the scene, inviting anyone else nearby into the fray, to join this gathering of Spirits. Soon, Hakurei softly whispered to all attending. Tweet, my Hero. i am so proud of you. all those who have Spirit, and recognize Hakurei. i am also proud of you. let me teach you of the nature of Spirits, and of Hakurei. The crowd gathered around, intent on listening, wondering just what their Goddess could have left to teach them of Spirit. What would she reveal? Spirits are everywhere. they can persist, as you can see. everywhere, i see Spirits, long forgotten ones, lingering ones, bright ones, ghostly ones, and people possessing Spirit. everyone is born with a new Spirit. i can see each and every one's story. i may have only appeared to you recently, but Spirit has always been there, since the beginning. Spirit lingers in hearts and minds and memories, even if they are faded until vapor thin. they persist regardless. you must mark this well. their whimsies each give individual strength and comfort. and mingled together, regardless of thin or strong, Spirits As One, they are capable of anything. the power is true. i believe this earnestly. you are all important for me, and every new spirit that awakens is important as well. our peace will be achieved. now come, mingle again. Everyone in the congregation felt their spirits intertwining as one, as though by an unconscious reflex, sharing in their enlightenment and companionship in the presence of Hakurei. Spirits As One. And one further odd, peculiar feeling started filling them. i am coming in. Hakurei will always be with you, be part of you. i shall never leave. don't worry. all will be well. Be with them in Spirit. Be their Spirit. Be them in Spirit. Persist and spread. All will be well. 1d20 19 BraveLittleToaster fucked around with this message at 08:53 on Apr 5, 2024 |
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Apr 4, 2024 20:20
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 Toddles, God of Children's Edutainment 2/3 HP Toddles looked directly at the camera, winked and put a finger to its lips. "Shhhhhh! The kids are asleep," it said as it finished pulling a blanket up over Axnol's slightly snoring form. You can see a plungerbwhoa doll clutched tightly in Axnol's hands and a Wedge-shaped pillow under his head. Toddles patted Axnol's head lightly, flipped off the light switch and closed the door behind them. "As every good teacher knows, nap time is the most important time of the day. A sleeply, cranky child is a child that can't learn, is what we always say," Toddles smiled to the audience. We turn to the right and look out a window as we see the sky darken and the street lights of of Bigbox lighten in response. A shooting star passes overhead and the crack in the Ocean in the center of the Flickerfare sparkles. A woman's laughter is heard in the distance. That includes you my lovely viewers. You need to make sure you get adequate sleep tonight, and every night. Toddles picks up a carton of milk and warms it between its hands. "Here, have a nice sip of warm milk and don't forget to wear your fuzzy slippers as you head to bed. Enjoy that novel on your bed table and don't stay up too late now," Toddles said as he passed the milk and a tiny nap cap through your screen to you. "You have my permission to relax and just enjoy life. Don't stress about work or money or anything. Breathe, relax and sleep my dear friends." Toddles smiled, reached up and pulled down a light switch. Your screen goes dark and all you can see are two red squares. The left square winks, a blue circle appears underneath to make a smile and then they all collapse into the darkness. "Good night" Toddles is attempting to give Wisps a Double-plus action for the rest of the game Take a nap, y'all: 1d20 20 Slaan fucked around with this message at 21:13 on Apr 4, 2024 |
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Apr 4, 2024 20:47
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+1 Toddles Wisp Points: 7 Wisps Remaining: 0
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Apr 4, 2024 22:01
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+1 - remains 16th Wisping AJ_Impy fucked around with this message at 21:42 on Apr 8, 2024 |
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Apr 4, 2024 22:51
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The Aspect of: Oceanic Abyssal Pelagic Pearlescent Whalefall
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Apr 5, 2024 00:15
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Egregious. -1 to Toddles! [ - ] WisPoints: 15 -> 16 NEW ASPECT GLIMMERS:
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Apr 5, 2024 00:23
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 Flare, God of Heroes HP: 1/3 Terribly hurt by his interactions with the Devouring One, godly ichor streamed from Flare from multiple wounds across his essence. He chuckled weakly to himself, his breath heavy, as he looked down at the sole Lestattoo. He could not let this story die here - lost, alone, forgotten, maligned. Alighting next to the Lestattoo, Flare lit the flame of Heroism in him. "The concept of names may be foreign to you, but I can assure you, you will be known as Tribeless, so I would suggest you take it on as your moniker." Reaching into his cloak, Flare pulled from his being a material facsimile of the sword and shield of his Icon. In this land of axes and protective magic, the sword and shield were both otherworldly things. "I have a gift for you - as unique as your spirit and your place within this world." He passed on the weapons and spent the last of his time in Nowhere teaching Tribeless of the Lestattoo how to wield them, and how, through honourable and compassionate actions, he might win over some of the peoples of Nowhere. "However, the Squild will forever be your enemies. You will likely be best served to leave Twomb and find a place for yourself on Oneder." Raising Tribeless the Lestattoo to be a Hero and teaching him how to wield a sword and shield. Attempting to instill the ideals of heroism. Making a hero of the Lestattoo: 1d20 2 (Well, darn!)
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Apr 5, 2024 15:02
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The Wandering Mage posted:Flare, God of Heroes 
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Apr 5, 2024 18:24
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Wholeheartedly touched - just beautiful. Well done!
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Apr 5, 2024 19:45
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 M'eheh, God of Ennui and Idle Whim HP: 3 M'eheh watched as Wedge went on their way, and shrugged their divine shoulders. It was what it was, who were they to dictate the actions of others? They were here for advisory purposes only. Maybe there was somebody else around, more keen to listen to their rambling? The Wandering Mage posted:Raising Tribeless the Lestattoo to be a Hero and teaching him how to wield a sword and shield. Attempting to instill the ideals of heroism. Ah. M'eheh flitted to Tribeless, and spoke. "Hey." They spoke some more. "The Hero of Heroism, huh?" "Not going to lie, that's some mighty responsibility to throw on somebody so newly sentient." "So like, don't feel too bad if you can't quite hack it, you know? At least at first." "Would probably serve you better to spend some time, I dunno, catching runaway animals or like, doing base courier jobs, at first? To get used to the whole 'existing as a Person holy hell' thing before you try to slay the ancient scourges of creation or monstrous divine beasts, all that." "I'm sure you can take the time." Gifting Tribeless the Weakest Hero an aura of Ennui (and Idle Whim) that will always grant them the time to waste on frivolous Side Quests to power up, regardless of how apparently acute the troubles of the World seem: 1d20+1 16 Theantero fucked around with this message at 20:16 on Apr 5, 2024 |
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Apr 5, 2024 20:11
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   After a while the quaking died down. The Flickerfare was still once more. Angeliar was lying on his back. He blinked few times in a daze. Then he lowered his eyes down from the sky, and to where a fuming crater now marred the Fischanic. He laughed, and then reached in to grab his catch. The Big One. He held it up high, receiving uproarious, mad cheering and chanting from his buds. "OWIE!" With a sharp yelp of pain he let go of it, rubbing his limb, his face scowling. The thing hit the floor with a wet sound, and there it lay. Angeliar shook his sore appendage, and shrugged. "Alright lets go party." --- "I... I'm not feeling well boss." "Ayup. I've also had too much of the cake myself. Delicious." Angeliar didn't bother looking at the Angler approaching him from behind, and just kept eating. "N-no boss... The thing you caught. I thought I'd bring it here, and..." Now the god turned his head. His eyes widened at the sight of the... Person(?) creeping closer. "I... I touched The Big One." "Well." Angeliar couldn't hide his dismay. "You clearly shouldn't have done that."
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Apr 6, 2024 15:53
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Angeliar God of Angling and Deep Sea 3/3 HP, (+1)  "I'm bored. What do I do?" The Anglers who had gathered in the dining hall regarded their despondent deity with apprehension. One of them coughed awkwardly. "We... could go fishing? Again." To this Angeliar sighed deeply, and turned to his bucket list. It was so lengthy that it actually filled a large bucket. The long, folded up sheet contained countless items, various places to fish from, all the different swimming creatures that could be caught, with the plan finally terminating in "fish the Ocean. maybe(???)" This item too, was crossed out. As were all the others. Again, Angeliar sighed. He had peaked and he knew it. There was nothing more to do. After that last stunt of his, nothing else could excite him any more. The fierce tidal storms of the Long Sea of Oneder, the creeping darkness of the Fractal Garden... all of these were done and dusted to him at this point. So what now, was he to cast his line into the Ocean once more? To keep gambling with his life again and again just to feel something?! Perhaps? By now it was clear that it was the only way to keep fishing interesting any more. And he obviously had to fish. He had to fish. He was getting the shakes already. Bad enough to grip the chalice so hard that it shattered, bad enough to flip the table and just scream from the bottom of his lungs. ---  Wedge never was the type to write down a memoir or anything of the sort. Thus, we can only guess at what it was that he felt, gripping his godly axe, panting from exhaustion, atop a mountain of gore he had made the plungerboa into, as he saw a shooting star approaching, and strike the ground right in front of him. What did he think, when he saw an utterly bizarre creature, almost his own height, rise from the crater and approach him? We can't ever know for sure, but we like to think that he was happy, relieved even. When the stranger suddenly made everything very simple and familiar by punching him in the side of his head. "It was just like from my axanese cartoons." This was the prevailing opinion among those who witnessed the battle. That one weird fishing god VS a demon of myth. It was quite the event. The village, already damaged by the giant plungerboa, was utterly reduced into rubble soon after this new fight started. Now, Angeliar no longer was the loved figure of the past. The slow but certain descent of the Anglers into a shadowy, occult society had also made their leader into a ominous figure in the public's eyes. But despite that, on Twomb he was still a, how to put it... Well, lets just say that for all of Angeliar's faults, not one person was praying for Wedge to win this struggle. Too bad then that he was indeed winning. Angeliar trembled under the weight of injuries the like of which he had never known. The prayers of his supporters warmed his ruined frame, giving him the strength to keep standing, but this was hopeless. A god or no, he had no way of defeating Wedge. Not without using up all that still remained of him. Good thing then that he didn't need to win, he only needed to make Wedge angry. Angry enough to take the bait. "IDIOT!" He bellowed. "TIME TO LEARN YOUR PLACE, MORTAL!" Once again he flew forth, picking up a fishing boat from the river and hitting Wedge with it. Barrels of fish exploded into the air. Twice already. Twice had the ancient Hero been fooled or forced into wasting the power of his weapon. It wouldn't be so easy to do a third time. From the cloud of splinters and hull fragments, a monstrous force swung in an arc, severing both of Angeliar's tentacles from his right shoulder. That didn't stop him. Three rows of dagger shaped teeth bit down on Wedge's arm, making the proud Aardiche lord howl in pain, and reel back from his foe. With bright, axe-red blood covering his face, Angeliar grinned. It was the only way, he figured, to make Wedge unleash Blade-Hungers-Above, despite the consequences it would have for him. "You made a mistake coming back, little mortal." To make it clear to him that there was no other way to kill a god.  (Goading Wedge into using the Blade-Hungers-Above on Angeliar, and thus cut away his one impurity: an unhealthy obsession with fishing.) (Giving up my godly domain of Angling, along with my roll bonus, to Wedge) -----  Angeliar God of Deep Sea 3/3 HP The potted algae swayed peacefully, a pet styleel swam lazily around the room. Angeliar sighed in satisfaction. Another wonderful day. Another wonderful meal of pickled vegetables. Truly this was the life. After his wanderings he had settled down on Oneder, in the outskirts of a small Squild settlement in the Long Sea. Keeping a low profile and just generally enjoying life, spending long evenings on the porch just watching the schools of fish swimming by. He enjoyed his peace. Every now and then some of the Anglers did manage to track him down, and while he received them with hospitality, he also made it very clear that he wasn't going to get dragged back into being the leader of anything. What's that, the Fischanic is still really messed up from the time that he had left an unbound radical Aspect just lying around? Just change the carpets, it'll be fine. Oh what now? Some Twombian bigwigs are angry at you for all the price fixing and assassinations you've done? Tough luck, I'm sure you'll figure something out, ho-hum. Any smaller, personal issues they had he would mend with a little miracle or two, and then send them away. Also he would wipe their memories of where he lived, he got too much traffic already. Such an idyllic existence he led for many blissful years, until one day, an ominous ripple in the firmament, a bad vibe if you will, roused him to action for one last time. The various experts at the The Symposium Of Elements were just as excited to see a god arrive on the holy ground, as they were horrified to hear what he had to say. "Its going to be a bad one this time. I can feel it." He wholly ignored all the pleas and questions of the people around him, making his way to the mechanism displaying the elements of the world. "I've a pet pottoise. The thing is going to outlive me I'm pretty sure. Would be a shame if it got Broken. So let me just, get in here... put this over there, connect these, and... Done. Its simple enough, as you can see. Don't touch this dial, now." (Creating the Deep Tether, a device placed in the center of The Symposium Of Elements. It latches onto one Aspect at a time, keeping it from being among the ones chosen for breaking. Currently set to Imprinting, but whoever controls the device chooses what it is protecting.) Create the Deep Tether: 1d20 15 As soon as Angeliar waddled out of the building, sounds of fierce disagreement were already erupting behind him.
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Apr 6, 2024 18:23
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-1 Flare (sorry!) WP: 3 Aspects: - Turpitude - Turgidity - Turbulence - Turbidity - Turmoil
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Apr 6, 2024 20:12
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I am heartily in support of Edutainment, but if posiwisps are gonna spend theirs on a nat 20, I'll just sneak the free wisp point. -1 Toddles Wisp'n: 4
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Apr 6, 2024 20:33
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+1 to Flare. 4>5. A lesttattoo finally has a chance to take from the surface-dwellers, as is their lot. Have a slight nudge to improve their chances of living that long. ////-
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Apr 7, 2024 02:28
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Apr 8, 2024 19:38
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Changing from Toddles to Flare, initial post edited. Let’s see if we can prevent god death this round.
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Apr 8, 2024 21:43
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+1 to Flare For the little it's worth, I appreciate it and don't want the deed punished. [--] 7 wisps? (did I spend them on the incursion attempt or do I get them back? if I spent them I will edit this) Aspects Trickery Endure Comraderie Vibrant Almighty Chaosfeather fucked around with this message at 20:04 on Apr 17, 2024 |
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Apr 17, 2024 14:42
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 07:45 |
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+1 Flare
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Apr 17, 2024 17:38
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