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I think it was said in one of the blue book posts that Dual Bite bypasses DR and doesn't need a roll to hit IIRC... Which if that's the case makes fighting this thing at melee range a one-way ticket to Suicideville.quote:"...problem is that it can use Dual Bite every single turn when you're submerged in a cloud of them. Its triple-cosmic threat of bypassing all DR, not needing a roll to hit, and negating all passive defenses means it's a meat shredder that..." OTOH I think the Babe had Deadly Calm as one of her powers? And Doubler has a WL of F. So that might be how she manages to pacify the rats, I guess. But yeah, getting the hell outta Dodge seems like the sane play right now. Grond fucked around with this message at 13:20 on Aug 7, 2022 |
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Aug 7, 2022 12:59
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+1 Trust The Babe and GTFO if possible it's been mentioned more than once that neither Doubler nor Moulder are remotely sane.... although i have some suspicions that Moulder is more sleeping/watching than full batshit which means Doubler could be More Complex as well (sidenote: iirc she's Dancer's ambassador to Doubler's cult, not their girlfriend iirc)
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Aug 7, 2022 13:36
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Yeah, Beach Babe is the girlfriend to Bloodshop, who was the liason to Bleeder.
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Aug 7, 2022 13:42
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it's supposed to be beach bae that was my inability to remember names being canonized, lol e: assuming it is beach bae i mean, i don't think she's confirmed that
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Aug 7, 2022 14:04
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Dr_Gee posted:(sidenote: iirc she's Dancer's ambassador to Doubler's cult, not their girlfriend iirc) Corrected in my post. In my defense, there's a lot of relations going on, and the rat imagery with the umbrella she was under was what made me think she was Doubler's GF and the liason to the other cult.
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Aug 7, 2022 14:14
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CoolCab posted:it's supposed to be beach bae that was my inability to remember names being canonized, lol this is definitely beach bae we're hanging around with
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Aug 7, 2022 15:53
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I think one of the advices on how to deal with Doubler was 'shout for Beach Bae and pray'. So I think that Beach Bae being on hand and liking us is probably the best case scenario here? Except for the part where we're already half dead and might die if anyone looks at us the wrong way.
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Aug 7, 2022 21:19
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I mean, the fact that the poor girl is absolutely hosed up and bleeding all over makes me believe that whatever she does to calm Doubler down has to be a pretty risky maneuver... I think her Deadly Calm power might be part of it, but the problem is that she needs to touch the target to make it work, and Doubler seems to be an absolute bitch to handle at close range. Really if you think about it... Where the hell is the Muser cult? We haven't seen Doubler's acolytes anywhere even though we've walked such a long distance. Which makes me think that Doubler's cult is composed of just Doubler. So my guess is Beach Bae's mission here is not so much to be a diplomat to a cult that doesn't actually exist, but rather to act as a containment measure so that the rats don't grow so much that they become unmanageable and overrun neighboring territories by comforting the ones that don't drown. Which has to be in the top 10 of shittiest jobs in the world. So yeah, it's good to have her here but I'm guessing it's gonna be a dicey situation either way. Grond fucked around with this message at 04:35 on Aug 9, 2022 |
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Aug 9, 2022 04:07
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Grond posted:
Notably, very early on Smiercia makes a distinction between the Cults and the Mightiest Three: quote:"...where are they? Dry your eyes, afore I pluck them, and see it clearly then! Know these Names to follow out in the holy dark- they are HUNTER, they are MOULDER, they are DOUBLER mightiest Three, they are BLEEDER - BURNER - HIDER - DANCER, with cults of the faithful free. Look! To Heaven!" However, the Musers-and even more so Moulder's cult, the Rustloved, who we know even less about-are an enigma. There's Liaisons to both Cults and an early thing makes references to the Musers and Rustloved being given blessings of the Island. Giving it more thought, I think that the Musers and Rustloved are probably more like the Congregation than the other cults, where they don't so much have individual members with personalities as much as they are sort of a hideous suffering mass.
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Aug 9, 2022 05:54
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Grond posted:
If so, then I am only imagine how many runs have ended by someone killing bleeder (unleashing the congregation and letting them grow unchecked) and killing beach bae (letting doubler grow unchecked) and then thinking they can get rid of both by having them meet each other, only for one to consume the other and become that much more explosive in growth. Like pitting Orks against Tyranid, whatever comes out the other end is gonna be worse to face.
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Aug 9, 2022 07:11
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It's possible that Doubler's cult is the hoard of dead rats we've been seeing, assuming that Doubler isn't both referring to "increasing his size" and "creating an identical copy of himself with his ability to copy himself". It's entirely possible that a rat would have a cult of rats worshipping him. ... I wonder if the Cats of Ulthar would be able to help kill him if you were playing the murderhobo way.
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Aug 9, 2022 12:41
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I'm pretty sure it's all Doubler, and all aspects of doubling are within his purview - we've seen him double his size, and he gets double actions, and I'm pretty sure one of the Blue Book entries mentioned a really risky strategy of trying to level grind off Doubler, which suggests that he can clone himself as well. Edit: Also I would like to see our spirit of empathy extend to Doubler and try to be kind and non-murderous towards him unless it's unavoidable. Princey fucked around with this message at 15:05 on Aug 9, 2022 |
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Aug 9, 2022 15:02
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Princey posted:Edit: Also I would like to see our spirit of empathy extend to Doubler and try to be kind and non-murderous towards him unless it's unavoidable. Oh, me too, I just realized this morning that Doubler is a rat, and we're BFFs with a city full of cats who would probably be good at keeping his exponentially increasing clones under control if we DID have to fight him.
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Aug 9, 2022 15:23
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Empathy or not, fighting Doubler in our present condition is utter madness that should be avoided at all costs. It’d be funny if the weird cat that’s lurking around killed Doubler for us and we got the credit though
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Aug 9, 2022 15:31
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What does it even mean in the context of our quest to kill all lords to kill Doubler? Do we have to clear all of Doubler's nests and make sure every single instance of Doubler clones are all dead?
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Aug 9, 2022 17:30
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Presumably there would be an "original" Doubler that would have the soul we need, otherwise we could just kill A Doubler rat and give the rest a smorgasbord of food as an apology and hope they spend so long gorging themselves that we could flee (sidenote: we may have to do that anyways).
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Aug 9, 2022 18:28
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Marluxia posted:What does it even mean in the context of our quest to kill all lords to kill Doubler? Do we have to clear all of Doubler's nests and make sure every single instance of Doubler clones are all dead? I think it explicitly said this, yeah. Looking to my reference document where I copy/pasted the Blue Book stuff because I don't have a problem... quote:DOUBLER BASICS So the idea that Doubler doubles in every way seems to be accurate. It doesn't seem to be all of the nests, just the Mountain ones-probably has something to do with Doubler's birth from the Island and their class as a Priest of it? The reference to Thunder is also interesting because Hider is very heavily associated with that. Also, regarding the cults: the Lords who have cults are all referred to as having a Harrowing of the Island, presumably referencing the Harrowing of Hell-i.e., the salvation/liberation of souls. Presumably this is how they got their cults. Moulder and Doubler, notably, have Birth from the Island instead of a Harrowing. t3isukone fucked around with this message at 20:03 on Aug 9, 2022 |
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Aug 9, 2022 20:00
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 ANXIETY: [ X ][ X ][ X ][40%] Look at that. It's doubling; it's doing it twice. But the babe is holding on tight, whispering half-slept nonsense while she comforts the recursive rat. There- see that? It's doing it twice again and twice again. Doubling. From fur there comes boils, and growth, stretching out with tiny hands that claw until it digs its way out of itself; the rat POPS, messy bloodbirth, and there's two, there's two rats, and their size is doubling. They do it again. You back away slowly, neurons forced to stand at total attention for the fractality occurring. Again! They double- they double again. Stretching down the beach now, two and two little hands constantly digging up and out and up and out, the mass flopping back and forth with a chaos of sand, blood, fur, and organ. It's doubling, again again. It's doubling. How far can an organic fractal go? You're stepping back much too slow to put in the distance, but this doubling doubling rat stretch can't seem to bring up the energy to act on the violent agony it's clearly in. It's calm, the babe's arms wrapped tight around the horse-sized wriggling mass of fats and tails and teeth that double, again, double, again. Up and down the beach it goes, hands digging towards who-knows. Look at the tails splitting! They split pure down the middle, doubling two, then they do it again and do it again. Fine silk spaghetti tails wavering in the dead airs. Again! Already the rat is doubling again well out of sight into the dark, contoured sharp to the tideline. A great tube fractal-two. You fall back and stand up, eyes burning hot from being unable to close. The babe! You have to call out to the babe! (HT - SHOUT FOR HER!) 15 [5]+[1]+[4] = 10 - Success. Her head raises with the soggy drape of her too-long hair masking her face. It's so hard to call to her over the sound of doubling, and doubling again. She must be smiling, because there's that casual cheer of her drugged-up sickness again. "Sorry, dude! I'll catch up! Save a shot for me!" You're too far gone in the nightmare to argue. The burnpain suddenly drops away, adrenaline stabbing you in the back to finally wake the fourway choice. It's flight, of course. Look at that- it's still doing it twice! Up AND down the beach, which means you need to get ahead and away from it! Whatever the babe is doing, you have to obey your screamed survival instinct and escape the neverending rat. Your stomach has gone ice cold, vomit no longer a fear while you act on sheer overdrive. You're gone, racing down the beach, praying that you'll make it ahead of the twofold of rat and night. Wait- wait. (IQ - Wait, am I forgetting something?) 10 [3]+[5]+[5] = 13 - You are. ANXIETY: [ X ][ X ][ X ][40%] Wa- NO TIME! LOOK AT THAT! It's doubling up doubling down the beach but sometimes it does it twice, which shoots it sideways and right up the long sands, into your way! You mustn't DARE fall into that fractal. You can't think. Just run. Against the fall of what's already come.  OST: Eldest Night Sword out. Concrete gold glints in the gloom. The shadow of the Mountain is the only guide, running mad against the tide of a rat that's then a rat rat that's then a rat rat rat rat that's that, gotta stop, that's all it can be or else the neurons will double their attention and then do it twice, crashing into the squealing supermass under the hypnosis of the fractal. Your mutant neurons are still fresh with psyche enough that you can feel where the mass is doubling to; three points of nested strength! You absolutely must get fast enough ahead to not let the mass overtake you by twice the distance! The nest it wants to reach is past where you need to turn off, but you have no idea how far either of those are save for the rat's overwhelming need to grow around the crescent of the beach. Its incredible desperation of growth tells you of something too dreadful to look at the shape of, but it serves as fuel to force your bubbling world-class lungs into a role you might have excelled at, once upon a time. You sprint, because your life depends on it. (HT - Running) 15 [4]+[5]+[1] = 10 - Success [By 5]. vs (Doubler's HT - Growing) 10 [6]+[5]+[3] = 14 - Failure [By 4]. Lordly Event Log posted:Doubler can't grow ahead of you, but it's still trying to do it and do it twice, which shoots out fractal bloodbirths into the warm rough sands. Some of the births grow, and then they grow again, which forces you to act with Fight before you resume the Flight. Look at it! Screaming! What was that?! Your hand burns so bad! But you weren't bit there. Why are you bleeding? You feel like you dreamed about something important, but there's no time. You have to keep running. You fight your eyes and the third out into the night. Please! Something! (PE - Safety?!) 13 - [4]+[3]+[1] = 8 - Success! Wait- THERE! A MILE OUT, RIGHT THERE IN THE NIGHT! A SINGLE POINT OF LIGHT! You just have to r- (HT - Running) 15 [4]+[6]+[6] = 10 - Failure [By 1]. vs (Doubler's HT - Growing) 10 [3]+[3]+[3] = 9 - Success [By 1]. ANXIETY: [ X ][ X ][ X ][ X ][50%] But it's already moved, twice. It's already shot out into water and into beach, twice. You're already tripping, twice. Look at that. It's screaming again. Biting. Lordly Event Log posted:
You keep running, limping ahead. One more time, you have to try or next fall it's going to bite-bite bite-bite bite-bite bite-bite. You'll bleed for sure (for SURE). Get ahead of the rat's race! (HT - Running) 15 [3]+[6]+[4] = 13 - Success [By 2]! vs (Doubler's HT - Growing) 10 [4]+[2]+[4] = 1 - Failure [By 1]! ANXIETY: [ X ][ X ][ X ][ X ][50%] It's you, it's you! Who gets the lucky 2! You run two legs pump twice, just barely barely ahead of the rats that grow out from the rats that grow out from the rats, and the only thing stopping their true violence is two slender sickly hands clasping a fractal mass somewhere in the midnight black. Just keep going the final mile. Motion is clean, and it saves. See? There, there! Lights out in the dark, far up a final high slope of sand and beachlights! Little markers stuck in the sands, solar lamps gleaming starlight in the haunted black. The cacophony has been filtered out, leaving just the heartbeat inhales and vibrations of nearby ratscreams. You're running up the hill. Powerclimb. Your subscription makes your muscle red drive on despite the near-death damages, vaulting you through slippery steep sands. You're going to escape. You're going to leave. But the rat is growing twice, and there's the final third price. Lordly Event Log posted:It's shot out so fast. It slams broken bloodied into the sandy hill, writhing as it claws at the air. There's a chance you can strike first with the twice for the last. Else it's the dual-pain. But you can't aim- it has to be the coinflip slash. Do it! Overcome! CUT! Stop thinking. The silver reflects it growing, fractal fractal free, up and down the crescent night. It's leaving you behind, desperate to achieve its nests while under the narcotic lovespell. It's too much. Too sad. A little crying rat coughing and drowning on a lonely dead beach. Poor sweet soggy woman. You... what did you forget? There's no time. Run. Just run. There's light. More lights! You run towards them and smash right into something cool hard springy, flying back to splat on the sandy-grass ground with a bubbly woof of forced exhale. Your hand's intent is so strong that even when helpless with stun and lung, you can still hold your gun shakily out in warding. It takes a minute to finally get your senses back from the pass-out line, leaving you looking at the wire fence you side-tramped off of. There's a bunch of spotlights, all illuminating a large odd-shaped field surrounded by the low fence. It seems to delineate the edge of a property, since beyond the spotlights there's the visible of a large winding tree littered with square growths and hanging lamps. Candles, colorlights, nanoswarms, solar stones; the colors are clean and welcoming from the many sources of illuminance in the evil beyond midnight. One foot outside of this line is death in every direction, and you're praying quiet for the strange druggy beach babe. You feel awful. You're sick and bloodied and tired. You still can't remember enough to make your blood bubble with blue sap again. Should you just approach and call out for succor? You have no idea who is here, if anyone even is here.  ANXIETY: [ X ][ X ][ X ][ X ][ X ][60%] [I feel sick.] You're so tired...
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Aug 10, 2022 02:38
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Bonus - the travel map for the area updated with the route taken by the babe while she carried you.
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Aug 10, 2022 02:42
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Huh. Wasn't the rat tail a rare drop from Doubler? I'm sure I saw a blue book entry about it or something like that. Oh my god, the route Beach Bae took 
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Aug 10, 2022 03:39
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Discussing Hunter/Moulder/Doubler as the Mightiest Three/a thematic grouping just makes me think of the Bird of Night (Hunter in the Old Owl), the Giant of Light (Moulder is the Mountain), and the Mouse of Sight (Doubler is rats, which are not mice, but close enough). Has this been pointed out before? It feels like something, but I don't know what.
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Aug 10, 2022 06:01
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Rat tail in FF series tends to be some kind of an important trinket that can be traded for really good stuff (notably in FF4 it's traded for adamantite that can be forged into Excalibur) Whyyyy are all the arrows on our taken route double-sided?
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Aug 10, 2022 07:44
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WRT the vote, I don’t think we’re in any condition to do anything. I voted for passing out and healing. We basically spent everything we had just to get to immediate safety and there’s nothing left in the gas tank but fumes now that we’ve accomplished that goal.
FAT BATMAN fucked around with this message at 08:30 on Aug 10, 2022 |
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Aug 10, 2022 08:28
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Antivehicular posted:Discussing Hunter/Moulder/Doubler as the Mightiest Three/a thematic grouping just makes me think of the Bird of Night (Hunter in the Old Owl), the Giant of Light (Moulder is the Mountain), and the Mouse of Sight (Doubler is rats, which are not mice, but close enough). Has this been pointed out before? It feels like something, but I don't know what. Yeah I believe I commented on this when we encountered the Traitor in... oh wow, February. poo poo, time flies. Grond posted:I think they are their Eidolons. We still don't exactly know what the relationship between Eidolon and Lord is, I think they're different people since in the Holy End both the Eidolons and the Lords exist at the same time. And Bleeder, in his boss fight, was introduced as "Blessed of the Errant", among other titles. With regard to the update... Well I guess the Silver Mind vision explains that bit about our hand being so determined... I think Holy End us went to practice the hand sign with the 8th lord after speaking with the Psychic (who btw we should really be paying for the therapy sessions at this point to be honest). I believe that helped Dark End us with the !Tyranny rolls, since we rolled under a 10 our Black Sword did extra Holy damage... Maybe. So that would explain why we were able to kill the rats in a single blow instead of the two hits predicted by the Silver Mind. Also... Holy poo poo Doubler. Like even in its smallest form it can bite twice for 2 damage... I don't know how much it can grow, but yeah. I think we can assume the bigger it grows the more the bites hurt, and the damage probably doubles every time it grows because of course it would.. So that means a size 6 Doubler can hit for... what, 64 damage? Twice? Ignoring all armor and defense? That's a lot of loving damage. Like we're going to need a LOT of HP and some truly apocalyptic firepower to fight this thing. Exponential growth is no joke! Like notice how the first dual nibble hit twice. Then the second one hit 4 times. If we hadn't killed the third rat before it struck it would've hit 8 times... That's 16 damage, and yet another death check. So it's not just that it can double its size, it's not just that it clone itself, the bites themselves also get doubled! Like even if you had millions of HP it could catch up rather quickly. Without the HOLY buff we'd be dead... Imagine if we had taken two turns instead of one to kill a single rat. And now imagine if each bite did 16 or 32 damage instead of 2... There's also the implication that Beach Bae was holding it back considerably. We still haven't seen the worst of it. I still don't know what the heck she did but apparently she did it well. quote:“...weirdest. One contender is the tail glitch: whenever you try to ‘use’ the Rat Tail, nothing happens, unless you’re on the Mountain, in which case a pop-up-and-close message from Moulder will...” I'd also suggest holding on to the Rat Tail, maybe? Also. Did we... We did give her the note from Bloodshop right? ...right? Grond fucked around with this message at 14:04 on Aug 10, 2022 |
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Aug 10, 2022 10:00
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I kinda want to suitify the Rat Tail. Though the mountain use is interesting...Grond posted:Also. Did we... We did give her the note from Bloodshop right?
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Aug 10, 2022 12:54
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It's... it's fine, she'll catch up... right?
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Aug 10, 2022 13:38
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VOTING CLOSED - Couch Surf The Beach House Crawl into the hiding shelter of the field and pass out to heal in the morning. - 4 Crawl to the tree housing and call out. - 9 Crawl to the tree housing and sneak inside. [PSI Clouding Check 13] - 3 Wrench open your third eye to listen out into the sweltering night for lifesigns. [PSI ESP Check 11] - 11 LOADING...  ...LOADING
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Aug 12, 2022 03:06
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ANXIETY: [ X ][ X ][ X ][ X ][50%] Your eye third wide - open it! If you do that, lying here in the cooling dry grass of the strange fence field, then you can understand what to cast out into the starrylit night! You'll know though the silver infinity inside. Just relax, and think, shivering blood out onto the soft ground. (...?) 11 - [6]+[1]+[1] = 8 - Success. You roll over, looking up into the solid black sky. You hiccup and mumble, the pain forcing tears into your eyes. You can do it. Just fight past and relax, to think of that cooling pure element. You feel it open up, neurons flaring. ... You sniff, and nurse your pain-headache. Which feels like it's actually going away, weirdly. Huh. You inhale again, bones popping loose, and think past the horror of the day. What does your psychic mind tell you? ... Uh. Hello? You stretch out on the grass, so hard your body crackles audibly, and you cry out as something suddenly untenses hard enough to hurt. You hold it into your hands, but keep thrashing around to stretch out the pain of a forcibly relaxing body. You want to be scared, but the relief of the untension is so strong you start to cry, holding in the sound with both of your hands as your nose desperates in the air you need while the dark world blurs into a field of black with green clouds and warm stars. It's such a relief; you cry so hard your body hurts, but it's clean and warm. ANXIETY: [ X ][ X ][30%] You don't have the will to say no or to control it. Your body betrays you, because something has flooded your brains and blood in response to the psychic signal. Something that has been brewing potent spores that found rainbow fruition during the blacklit hours of the superbeach. You're in total overwhelm, because your extramagic mushrooms have intercepted the psychic signal to assault your body with a healing flood. You know through your PSI that they want to help you, and now that you're safe they can flood you and speak. You're crying as they force your muscles to stop crushing your bones, tendons loosening with a violent crackle as pain leaves you with explosive force. You can't think right, because look at that- the grass is all warm and swirly, magic bleeding out of your wounds as a watery green flow. You laugh with quiet relief, rolling back and forth while the fungus robs you of tense and intent. It's Ok. It's Ok. It's going to be ok.  ANXIETY: [10%] [Super Magic Mushroom'd] The mushrooms say you've been through a lot of awful things recently, and you need to cry and rest and not be scared for a bit. So they're going to help take care of you. They've even convinced the vampire in your heart to help, feeding it through the growth in the parasite's compromised brain to send it into a little hypermagic state of rainbow bliss. You touch your heart, and promise the parasite that one day it won't be addicted anymore and it'll be able to do something else with its sapience. You stand up, but cry and fall over from how jelly your limbs are. The pain is still real, but it's rapidly fading into the fungus. You try again. You got a lot to do tonight, and it begins with the Walk and the Talk. (DX - I Swear I'm Good To Drive) 11 - [4]+[6]+[1] = 11 - Exact Success. (HT - I Can Absolutely Hold My Mushrooms) 15 - [5]+[3]+[6] = 14 - Success. You lean over the fence and gag so hard you start to cry again. It gets loud and gross. Just sobbing, spitting, gagging, gasping. But it all passes and you take a second to clear your nose and eyes, walking around with a shaky bound with a few cartwheels and jumps. Your bones got it! They got the easy easy. You can move now like you never knew what the traumatics put inside your marrow, no iron in the gait to worry about. You got fungal animations, and you inhale hard enough that your lungs force out little magic oxy-bubbles. You feel ok! You need to do the socials and the slick, and then you can earn some bed and bread. You can do it. It's ok to cry about it. How scary and so-much and never-end it all is. But if one was possible, then why not seven? It's okay to cry. She'll kill you for it, but Heaven is listening and loves you for it. That's why it's ok. You need to stop crying now and move through the soft invite of a habitable night. See that treehouse there? The savannah leaves entangle it with a wishlike love. Something is here that has to be maneuvered around, but it's possible. Wait! Do you need a gift? A burger maybe?  Something goes fire in your body, and there's a farted pop of stale grease air and old wrappers. No. Too soon. The burger magics are still too jambled from the stunt before. You need to think of something better than that for a walk-in welcome. But you don't have anything suitable! No liquor, no spice, no candy, no nice. Sable lemons, but no drink to pop a slice into. This lovely engine bottle of orange orange oil, but zero idea if ingesting it is the life or the death. Burger magics too risky... fireworks too valuable. But wait. Wait! Of course! Think of your title. The secret one given. You, Singer. Why not walk with the proof of night by raising your voice? What do you think it could be, if you let it free? Listen. Stand at the fence, tears in your tired eyes, lungs bubbly warm beyond midnight. Open them. Walk to the trees. (![ER_INVALID]) 13 - [2]+[3]+[1] = 6 - Success!
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Aug 12, 2022 05:36
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This update makes me wonder what it would feel like to get a professional deep tissue massage while tripping super hard.
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Aug 12, 2022 08:40
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Oh shrooms~ never change
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Aug 12, 2022 08:51
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That technique is literally Link's sword shot isn't it. I'm sorry HEAVEN loves us for..crying? wha.
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Aug 12, 2022 09:54
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Regallion posted:
what would be the function of hell otherwise
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Aug 12, 2022 10:14
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Regallion posted:That technique is literally Link's sword shot isn't it. Being honest with ourself and being humble enough to show weakness?
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Aug 12, 2022 11:39
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Randalor posted:Being honest with ourself and being humble enough to show weakness? +1 was just coming here to say this lol edit: like it's hella on brand with... the entire thematic arc of the story. mushrooms? lethal sentient parasite that was first suppressed, then used with tight control, then accepted as a part of ourselves and now giving back wholly unasked in a moment of need poo poo, even the literal-bleeder-parasite might be on the same arc and i didn't realize vote was hella closed on "how to approach treehouse" and voted cry for help so 0% sad we're gonna be singing our way in Dr_Gee fucked around with this message at 23:08 on Aug 12, 2022 |
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Aug 12, 2022 23:05
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I just hope whatever the hell is waiting for us in the cabin is not hostile. We know little about the Savannah except that it has some pretty loving crazy mobs. Let's hope we don't encounter many Blackwings this far east.
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Aug 13, 2022 00:41
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I'm fine with it potentially being cultists. I'm worried that it'll be our BFF, Deimos and this is where he's been getting high as gently caress while on the company time. We have found him once obviously wired and high on SOMETHING before, right? Where he was acting like a coked-up executive from an 80's action film?
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Aug 13, 2022 03:50
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i don't know we've ever met demios sober, but yes iirc the first time we met he was tweaking
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Aug 13, 2022 03:57
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Wait. How long has it been? You're sweating. Eyes watering. Legs shaking. You don't feel ill, but you don't feel right; you sniff and sit down. It's still dark, the strange-shape field empty before you, swirling with infinite recursive patterns. You finish and clean up, looking at the empty black sky̶ ̷o̴f̴-̴ Somewhere in the trees, there's crystal. You stare, the mushrooms flare; something is moving in the Silver's reflection. You snap eyes over to the fence to see them approach. They're cautious but curious, with the leg-jiggy one-two of a heavy stoop, body twisting back and forth for balance and power in their strange walk. You look at them and contrast their shape against the tear-blurry lights of the tree; a younger human. He's shirtless, swimmer-skinny, ripped. Straps about him, to hold the two gigantic metal shark-tanks he wears on his back. His bottom half is a swimmer's surreal, with sharkskin pants down into organic flipperfeet, explaining his gait. Who can say what he feels? His eyes are black-goggled gone, his hair shorn clean, his skin striped strange with blues, his mouth covered with the rebreather he has toothlocked. The tanks slosh, revealing the two long tubes of clear thick materials that draw out of them for dispensing. He closes in, standing crab-style to stare at you sidelong. He speaks through his mouthpiece once he realizes you're not going to attack, producing a weird half-speaker drone. "You okay? You're not a siren. You with them?" Uh, no, with who? You say you were singing because you're looking for safety, and you needed to calm down. This surprises the sharkpants boy, and he takes out his rebreather. His mouth! He has pronounced sharp teeth, white white white with predator might! Natural? Implant? Denture? You don't stare. He speaks with ease, but his words are colored by his murdermouth. "You're lit. It's okay. Just check with me; I'm Shark Water. Sit down and have a drink; of shark water. You almost look Sunburn. You spooked?" You, you're, yes? He seems easygoing in a nervewracking way, but you trust the fungus. The trash compactor is ready to be fed a kindness; a drink sounds good. You need to be careful of course, of tricks and traps and sheer mishaps, but you have just enough PSI in your fungus-flood neurons to sniff out the possible safe of this place. Look at that. You're already sat down against chainmail fence, bouncing back against it dazed while Shark Water is bobbing and weaving around the grassy star field with a ritual. You absent-longing wonder at what Ulthar would think of something like this, and suck on your bleeding catscratched hand; it still hurts so bad. You grab your pack to hold onto, wiggling comfortable with the shield on your back. The strange boy finishes his jive, and stretches his long legs out to lean into a serving pose. Both hoses are armed from the shark-shape tanks; they're sloshing in the viewglass, with something bright bright red! You watch as he produces two carved wooden deepmugs from his belt pouching, filling them fast with scents like red fruits and flowers that lost their names in times never recorded. The mushrooms ask, when a planet once had an entirely different ecosystem millions of years ago, what miracle fruits were lost to each Age of Fire or Ice or Storm? The sharkboy raises his glass. "Never stop moving."  (HT - Mmm, Shark Water) 15 - [2]+[5]+[4] = 11 - Success [By 4]. You bump the wood vessel and nod without smiling. Yeah. Never stop. You trust to Hell and drain down the first mouthful, and it's only the fungal grace that stops you from spitting or choking. Not from disgust, but surprise; a flavor that was already amazing is taken first to a next level by the mushrooms and the extrasensory of PSI, and then goes even further from the sudden hormone-flood from the Vampire Parasite of all things. What is in this amazing stuff?! It's alcoholic for sure. But weird, alchemical, refined. Fruity, unbearably so, but the flavor keeps roiling and shifting through shades of deep red that are addictive in their intensity. It sates thirst, even! You're drinking the second half harder while you puzzle through, and then you realize that the parasite is awake and is swimming with delight. Oh, of course. The shark water has blood in it. It's clear there in the silver; the flavor, the ecstasy of the Lordly subpilot, the smell. The parasite is drunk, it's mushroom'd, it's high, it's blood-sated, it's laughing so hard because it's never laughed before and only now is realizing why so many sapient organics do it. You're giggling, and snort some out of your nose. Augh! You cough and wipe. Shark Water waits to see if you're about to die, and refills you while he finishes his glass in one go. "You're a funny little. What's your deal? You are with the Wanderers, right?" Uhhh. You begin to drink and try to think. ANXIETY: [??%] [I am being brain-blitzed by a VERY special episode of irresponsible brain fungus and alche-blood coolers, I have forgotten how to be nervous] (HT - YummmM, Shark Water) 15(-2) - [4]+[1]+[4] = 9 - Success [By 4]. Oh, wait, wait, right. Right? They said it. To, me. I told them. Right? You tell him, I don't tell him, but you tell him what I told the ice and the obsidian. That you're a tourist! You're kind of a tourist, with the- Wander, yeah, and you're just trying to get by while seeing the sees. You're slurring and stumbling and packed on this incredible red punch and mega magic mushroom high, leaned dramatic on the fence while Shark Water squats and starts on his third glass. He can't seem to entirely grasp what you're saying, but he's down with it. God, this stuff tastes so good after the stress of the day. You're nearly through the second, trying to explain that you just need a safe place to house for the night, and, and do you accept kobold market credits for rentals? Wait. He's looking at you with- you don't know how he's looking with, actually, his eyes are hidden and his terrifying teeth don't really change. You wish you had teeth that scary. You say it out loud. That the teeth are scary and cool and you wish you had them. poo poo, that was dumb! Why did you say it out loud? But wait, the corner of his mouth is upturned, and there in the rainbow-greased silver it's clear he's smirking! His tone is even and a little little liquored. "Thanks. You got aesthetic. But you seem pretty thrashed. Finish the sip and have a fourth before a lie down. You're cool, Singer." (HT - wwwWOOOOOOOOO SHARK WAAAAteeer) 15(-4) - [1]+[1]+[4] = 6 - Success [By 5]. Wuh? When did you sing? No, no you sang, but you mean when did you tell him Singer? Oh, this is the fourth glsss. Glsss? Ssss. You almost drop it while you make snake sounds. Like the Duke, you tell him. Wait. Wait. FOURTH glass? If that was the third, then, what happens with the fourth??!? (HT - mmNmmmsnshh, shsslK Watert) 15(-8) - [1]+[1]+[3] = 5 - Sorta-Critical Success [By 2]! Trash Compactor posted:
YES. Oh, woah. Woah. Shark Water, listen. Listen. You yank the hoses over, and you drink two more full glasses of his special brew in a single go, bringing you up to six total. You throw the mug and you're done. Your biology is gently caress on SHARK WATER. There are stars somehow and oh yeah you told him you were the Singer like an hour ago. Now you're a Tourist. Who sings. It's 4am. You're leaping over the fence over and over and over and he's dancing and says you're slick. Any more Shark Water and you'll puke literal blood; you feel amazing! Your parasite sings. The air is Heavenly warm. The swimmer is lying down to feel the wet grass. "Hardly any ever get past three. You're hot on six, you're total SHARK. The Wanderers got the coolest gang with them! You better not let the greens get you out here. Keep ogrewatch and keep cool." OGRES? YOU KICKED KAIGEN'S rear end. YEAH!! You throw so hard towards where the Emperor was that you fling and crash into the grassy ground. You scream and smash your hand down, cheering and kicking and absolutely hosed on three kinds of substance. You cry and sit up and hold down your puke with power. loving RIGHT you got six in you. Six, six, six, SHARK! WHAT DO SHARKS DO? SWIM SWIM HUNGRY. It's 5am. You're delirious. You high-fived Shark Water so hard your hand is raw. You tell him blood is so loving GOOD. You want to eat raw meat all day and scream and bite those you hate to scar them forever. You'll do it to Kaigen. Shark Water dances with something terrifying that the mushrooms are thinking about, and now you're dancing too of course. Check it. Look at this shark poo poo! (DX) 11(-5) - [1]+[4]+[1] = 6 - YES! [Exact Success] HAHAHAH! DO YOU SEE THIS? ON TOP OF THE FENCE LIKE IT'S NOTHING! SK8TER MAGIC. Around 7am you start to feel off, wavering from rampaging around for so long. You've puked by now, but the parasite had already fullsipped all of the delicious punch into your biology, so the only thing that came up was rubyclear bile. Your arm hurts, because you high-fived Shark Water until you started to bleed. You danced on the fence until you fell, over and over and over. You laughed and told insane half-pieced stories that he loved because he was on match-six of his own supply to keep up with you. He tells you Shark Facts you adore. This is SO cool! SHARK WATER SHARyou faceplant hard enough to make Red's shroud pooft up and then drift down to blanket y  ou wake up with a sharp inhale. It's a gray rainy dim day. Morning? Dawn. THE TWENTY-SIXTH DAY ANXIETY: [Mushroom%] HP: [ 25 / 25 ] FP: [ 15 / 15 ] Where- there was supposed to be someone here. You grab your mouth and exhale hard, holding in all sounds. What's happening? The last thing you recall is... (IQ - What happened?!) 10 - [4]+[1]+[3] = 8 - Success. The dream is fleeting. You met a friend! Cultist. They were impressed! Think, think, think. They told you shark secrets. You stumble under the iron mist morning, smashing into the dull chain fence and falling over with a cry. No no, it's there! In the silver! You look out at the weird field, with its white lines and strange little decorations and hidey-holes. You slept so good, barren in an open field. You crackle and cat-stretch, standing to chase the phantoms of recall. Okay so. You're here to. Meet... a spider? And a baller. The shark told you that. To meet them in the AM. He told you because you drank his home brew so well he thought you were a player. You smile and curl up and sleep for another hour. Like a player. You wake up and feel better after a soft puke of warm clear bile. Nerves! You're Singer. A Superstar. You drank and now you... 「Bloody Parasite」is massively oversated. Healed to full HP! Healed to full FP! Hangover 95% cured! Anxiety mitigated! Burns healed! The parasite is stuffed. The parasite is so happy with you! You cheer and puke, and it feels incredible. Like a Superstar. You collapse and sleep another hour. Woooo. You feel a bit better, partly thanks to still being trapped deep inside of the mushroom sporing from its supermagic spark. SHARK WATER YUM YUM YUM, SHARK WATER RED PUNCH FUN. You vomit one last time and crawl to a clean spot, finally finding the equilibrium necessary to realize the Silver Mind has been calling you collect without hanging up for the last twelve hours. You pick up, eyes lidded and body collapsing to the grassy warm ground. It's 8am? Right? The Silver Mind posted:
You curl up and seize when the silver makes you sleep even more, psychic delirious, still fullday drugged and crazed with the high, waiting for clarity as the gray clouds boil and you. It comes once you wake in full to see the looming color in your silver rearview. How long has she been there, all lean and silky? Okay. Assess. Sss sss sss, like the Duke and his sister, sister, sisters. She's... God, she's bony and long. So lean. It's mean. But it's hard to say what wishwrought nightmare waits with the caress under that silky silk dress. It's that raw color, thick and contoured to her shapely-long. Her face? Sylvan, sharpened. Her hair silken blue, long with the hue, down to ground with a seven foot true. Her eyes shadowed, under a circlet secretive. Ballroom beauty! What hides inside that spindly smile? But look past her cultshow, silk smeared with dirt over its raw, and at her signature. A glove, over her right hand and arm and shoulder, further still, down into her right side. Wrought of metal organic, twisted and glossy bright. The glint; is it Leng-violet? Hidnaur-black? Widow-red? Oh God those metaline poison colours. Look- her hand, one finger, so spider sharp long, promising penetration and poison if provoked. You snap out of the reverie of sensate, and just kinda stare at the weird silk-dress spider woman who looks at you against the dark gray dawn sky. You wave, still highover on God knows. Hi.  "Oh, you are aware. Hi. Do I need to poke you dead?" Huh?! No! Look, you're just sleeping off the shark water! You were going to meet someone. It's hard to get your hands near your gun, but you manage. The tall Sylvan asks, "Shark Water? He was here? He gave you shark water??" You swallow and spit and point at all the red bile, nodding with a sniff. Yes. You had six. You feel great but also kind of messed up, and you don't want to be dead now. "Six! Wait, where did he go? Why was he here?" You keep prone, ready to fight through the braincloud if needed, and tell her that you don't know because you passed out from... drinking shark water. She looks around with a frown, but sees your colorful spew and telltale body language, and gets an eerily friendly smile. "That's really weird. But if you had that much shark water, you need to eat. Me and my mine are about to have breakfast before we have some field; want to join us?" The Tyrant would be arguing. But it is absolutely throttled under the growing mushroom spores, and more strongly, the tidal wave from the garbage disposal over the want of food to satisfy the alco-alchemical overdose. Swim. Swim. Hungry. You're up and she's stepping back. You go slow and clamber over the fence with practiced ease, which sends the silk-witch sauntering to the treehouse with the occasional stolen peek back at your follow. You keep some distance, stumbling often from your legs giving out, forced to four-crawl to keep speed. You get just smart enough to mention that you're Singer, just uh, a tourist passing by running... errands. "My new-chosen name is Spiderfinger. Hi, Singer. You are in a bad bad run to be erranting." You slow down and ask Spiderfinger what that means. Wait- is she one of the ones mentioned? You need a meal and some time to shake the lead out to get it back in your memories, but then you're barraged by even more bad news. "Well, for one, the ogres are up to something big and bully." "Also, there are wolves. I still don't know why there are wolves." "Oh, and we're due for some bad Hider-weather in a few hours." Oh. What was for breakfast?
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Aug 20, 2022 08:41
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uh-oh, well rip that noise, we have bigger fish to fry like GOING BACK TO BEACH BAE AND DELIVERING THE DANG LETTER.
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Aug 20, 2022 10:34
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| # ? Jun 5, 2024 22:57 |
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Was Pariah the name of that relatively friendly doctor wolf we met? I also feel like Jono has been encountered too?
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Aug 20, 2022 14:41
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