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Apotheosis: 1d100 = 100 +5? METEO DESCENDING!
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Jun 17, 2023 10:17
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Time To God? 1d100+8 = 59 Present, but wavering, to be easily pushed out by those of more firm resolve.
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Jun 17, 2023 10:59
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Engoddening: 1d100+12 23 Those Gods were sour anyway
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Jun 17, 2023 11:54
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Walk This Way https://orokos.com/roll/981538: 1d100 60 Well Darn
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Jun 17, 2023 11:59
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Mwah. Mwahahaha. MWAHAHAHAHAHAAA! Engoddagain: 1d100+7 106
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Jun 17, 2023 13:05
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HERE COMES ANOTHER 100!!!!!: 1d100+7 30
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Jun 17, 2023 13:17
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Name: The Hollow House Domain: The Hollow House (Yes, I intend to get weird with this.) Apotheosis: 1d100+12=108
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Jun 17, 2023 16:16
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Engoddening: 1d100+8 104 huh. uhhh. wasn't expecting that? gonna have to put something together, probably
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Jun 17, 2023 19:07
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 (dies/isdead/willdieagain) 
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Jun 17, 2023 22:23
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Engoddening: 1d100+12 102 Orokos toys with us.
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Jun 18, 2023 02:09
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A faint cackle in the void, beholding all these fantastic numbers.
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Jun 18, 2023 02:22
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Jun 18, 2023 02:46
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without actually reading the standings right now want to say something from last game that was neglected in earlier posts - gods from the immediate last age cannot get in, but gods from the age BEFORE that take a -10 malus to get in. Where possible I want new folks in BUT if previous guys are STILL winning even with that then newbies are just scrubs okay byeeee I had too much barbecue so I'm going to sleep
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Jun 18, 2023 03:14
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I wanna be a god!: 1d100+11 33
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Jun 18, 2023 23:10
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Incredibly unlikely due to the rolls already on display, but one cannot be part of the game if one does not try... Engoddening!: 1d100-2 (+8 wisp -10 prev. god) 37 Hard nope!
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Jun 19, 2023 15:44
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THAT'S IT, RECRUITMENT CLOSED Here's the Gods of our fourth Age! GODS AJ_Impy Arcanuse Zybourne Clock Scribblykins Swedish Thaumocracy That's, like, semi-final? It's up to the winners whether they want to swap out with someone else or whatever, but otherwise we're off to the races. From Gods, I need your Icon, a figure drawn on this grid:  Pick a single colour and connect the lines however you want in a single colour with STRAIGHT lines or circle segments. No wiggly lines
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Jun 26, 2023 17:09
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METEO 
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Jun 26, 2023 17:20
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Tester-Of-Limits
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Jun 26, 2023 17:58
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The Hollow House
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Jun 26, 2023 19:58
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[The Nameless Krakink, 3rd Ageborn.] ["I could always see the levers of the world; I knew they were there but never could reach them."] ["All that was to be done was to wait, wait and watch the heavens for a sign."] ["Years. Decades. By the time my first century passed my fellows saw me mad."] ["Perhaps they were right."] ["Still I watched, charting the stars they refused to see. The places we could never reach."] ["There are so many places out there like that, ones I can only imagine the people's therein must be like."] ["Often I would visit our smaller kin on my excursions, their eyes filled with wonder, and some fear."] ["I can't blame them for that, we've rarely left isolation in so long that seeing us must be a miracle to them, a living relic of another age."] ["One that brings reminders of times that, perhaps, they would rather forget."] ["But scars fade with time, and that fear dwindled as the failed emperor's deeds were left far, far behind them."] ["I would come to see the work of the gods, touching, sculpting our world before dispersing to whence they came."] ["Some fond debates were had in those times; 'if a god helped build the tower, were their souls to return on its completion as well?'"] [("I maintain yes, but I doubt I'll live to see the answer at the current rate.")] ["Did get a bit rowdy sometimes, though I learned quickly that despite their size our cousins put up a good fight."] ["They were good times to see Twomb as well, and while my studies focused elsewhere, it proved quite enlightening."] ["Come what may, life will, as best it can, carry on."] ["The manner of survival can and will change, but the peoples have proven themselves hardy folk time and time again in face of the Gods blessings, nevermind the disasters that followed."] ["Thus, when the time came for the fourth godfall, I had found myself along a few followers waiting at the surface."] ["Three gods fell from the Ocean-Above that day, to my and my followers surprise (nevermind elsewhere)."] ["The fourth's entrance was witnessed soon after, but where they went was not."] ["Then came the fifth."] ["The skies tore with its fall, the beast howling as the very space boiled around it; it's terrible path ripped the world open as its passing sutured it shut."] ["I couldn't bear it, and made to turn and block my fellows sight before-"] ["But it was too late. The world went dark."] ["My followers would, I found out after, be fine; having only witnessed a meteor crash into the Garden and my subsequent seizing."] ["I made no effort to question them. None of them saw what I did, no witness to the terrible Wound in creation that came to our world."] ["..."] ["None saw that, as it passed overhead, a great eye opening, gazing, and between wails shrieking YOU."] ["It was beautiful. It was horrifying. It haunts me still."] ["Tonight, I will speak with the elders. Tomorrow, with or without their permission, I leave for the Garden."] ----- Devouring Star e:Amalgamy.  Yeah, this is gonna be a weird one. Now watch me roll two 1's in a row 
Arcanuse fucked around with this message at 00:54 on Jun 30, 2023 |
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Jun 29, 2023 01:32
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 The Wisps sank towards the weakening barrier, swirling hungrily towards the Something that made this place. Even the blindest of them could see the fabric of the world weakening ever more, but Ages remained before the final dissolution. Time enough to sow the seeds of change. Five sank through the Barrier, sealing it behind themselves… and were troubled to see one of their own already… there. The Avatar of Silence and Chaos was first to notice their arrival, before the ripples of their presence made them known. They became: THE GODS OF THE FOURTH AGE posted:
  Oneder looked much the same, but there was a palpable air of something different in the souls of the People walking the planetoid. The war that had crouched upon the Peoples of Oneder was long over, generations old, the horrors largely forgotten apart from the records of the Librarians. The current population was significantly more concerned with the matters of industry and day to day life than with survival, and it showed in what they chose to spend their time on. Bigbox was… bigger. Boxier. The IKEƎA had conked out some time ago, its lessons long spent. Upon deciphering the last instruction, it had opened as promised long ago to reveal a cube of purest Raptorquoise, every edge and corner mathematically perfect. The cube held a place of honour in memoriam of the Old God, Crate-Ur, and was occasionally brought out for festivals or particularly precise measurements… but it also left the Asaurted feeling a little… empty. Though they were expert at following instructions and building with incredible precision, they had never been particularly adept at coming up with something new. They’d often relied on their cousin race, the People of Pinball, for the more… exciting elements. Only the Plungerboa… were not doing so well. (The Asaurted are, frankly, stuck in a rut. They’re doing perfectly fine in their own orderly little worlds, and they still make up a majority of the population of Bigbox (and probably Oneder!), but they have never seen great favour with the Gods, and they’re feeling uninspired. Also of note, Cera Twice-Blessed, Hero of the Asaurted, has perished of old age. She will be missed, but she is survived by the Library Thesauri, her Librarians, and the Doorkeepers.)  The People of Pinball were thriving, by some measures. Predation from Aardiche was largely a thing of the past, aside from some unfortunate incidents, and in this past Age they had been free to act as they had not been able for some Ages. But something had changed in them, was still changing. They called it the Drain, at first, but now it was a way of life. That’s just how things were. Plungerboa were restless creatures now, furtive and always full of wanderlust. No longer did they enjoy community, the playful competition of their bands. No, now they sought the quiet, distant places. Surely there were explorers, heroes, poets, bards… it wasn’t a bad life for them, certainly better than being eaten… but in their hearts they suffered a confusion and loss they didn’t quite understand. (The Plungerboa gain Restless and Wanderlust - the loss of Redirection and Competition from their parent Element has unbalanced them heavily towards the Aspect of Motion. They aren’t satisfied unless they’re on the move, the faster the better. And yet racing carries no interest for them, winning feeling hollow and childish. Just… moving for the sake of it. The Hero Spaun Multiball of the Plungerboa is alive, though he has opted to live among the Aardiche rather than his own People. He’s… quite odd. Even odder, now.) The Aardiche are around. Here and there, scattered across Oneder, in Bigbox and Haft-Upon-Mattockhorn and thousands of tiny villages. They bow to no central figure, eschewing the concept almost religiously. Wedge led them into madness, into war and destruction, for reasons that seem almost insane to modern Aardiche. A war? To eat People? It just seemed so… primitive, now. Juvenile. The Aardiche of the modern Age try to live and let live, dealing easily with the Asaurted and somewhat more awkwardly with the Plungerboa. This far from the Ages War, old emnities have fallen away, though some scars never fade.  An exception, of course, was Spaun. A mad old Plungerboa Hero, he walked among the Aardiche like one born to them. He ranted and spoke of mad things, of magic and Gods and voices beyond the Barrier, but he was also a Magician of unparalleled flexibility and ability… and some Aardiche took his words to heart. After some long Ages, Magic has returned to the Aardiche. (The Aardiche are a chastened People, but despite being the losers of the Ages War they weren’t really all that badly affected. A warrior People by nature and training, they took the loss in stride and bent their efforts towards building something new. They remain outsiders in the world, but only out of habit at this point. Stigmas remain against them, but the average Axe Person hasn’t used their edge to cut anything more than a fresh slice of Sharpiezza. Some Magic is trickling into the People, though its use remains very rare.) Somewhere in Faeverland, there is a place where they say a banquet awaits those brave enough to venture within. A relic of the capricious Goddess Felice, the Idol waits still - unchanging, unrotting, perfect.   Twomb was a wonder. Glittering, glowing with Neon and Ice and deepest Inky spotlights, Oneder’s dark twin was thriving. Chief among its marvels was the Great Work, the Tower, the Flickerfare. It was nearing completion. The People of Twomb greeted the Gods distractedly, so close to the wire that they couldn’t bother looking up even with literal divine messengers flitting above their heads. Even with the earlier… disruption in construction during the Godless Age, by hook or by crook, the Flickerfare would reach its end during this Age! This singular fact held the attention of every single Person on the planetoid, lighting their souls from within until it nearly blinded the senses of the Gods. The Great Work would be completed - and with it, the hundreds of assorted prophecies and great reams of paperwork that had accumulated over all of recorded history.  The Shiverm built. They were more than ready for the drat thing to be done - the loss of their parent Material’s Patience Aspect having grown more pronounced over the generations. And yet they remained focused and determined to do their best work, to protect the efforts made by those generations that came before - and those countless dead who still ‘lived’ within it. Soon, they would be free. The Maraqueet built. They wove living light into the structure, the Illumination Magic Fenlightenment allowing them to wreathe the ancient edifice in Sparkliana that waved lightly in the cool winds at night. Their Sparkitechts ran cables and heating through the Great Work, neurons and veins that connected the thing top to bottom. The Hero Burnyst worked among them, considering what lay beneath her talons. It felt almost alive now, this mausoleum. The Squild built. They ensured the foundations were firm, extending ever deeper into the Ink seas. The vacant Fractal Garden provided a perfect base of operations, and they travelled into the blackest depths of their world to ensure the success of the Work above. Krakinks and the assorted confused Myriad still made a home in the depths, and this too was a source of wonder and excitement. But above all was the Great Work. The Peoples of Twomb were united. (There’s not much of a difference between the People on Twomb, frankly. They each have their specialities and innate skills and etcetera, but they’ve all been mixed so thoroughly for so long that any transferable skill or Magic is present pretty equally between all populations. They’re pretty excited to be done work. Flickerfare will be done this Age. Divine attempts to meddle with it will need to be particularly powerful to have deleterious affect, but it can be done. Whether it should is up to the whims of the Gods.) The Hero Gelid works in Rinkjet even now, still burning with frustration at being outsmarted by a mere baseline Squild - who, as recently as a year ago, keeps popping up. It was in this foul mood that she came upon a Remnant, a plain gift from the Goddess who raised her up. Interesting.  In a field of Ice just outside of Arisaurna, near the breach where that monstrous Onederian had forced its way into their world, a pair of Maraqueets happened upon a strange, pretty thing. It was really fun to look at. 
Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 04:40 on Mar 21, 2024 |
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Jul 1, 2023 05:37
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 The Hollow House HP: 3 I manifest into the world fully formed on the frozen outskirts of Bigbox, hushed as the breeze through a keyhole. Nestled within and partially merged with a rocky icestone outcropping, my foundation fuses seamlessly with the very bedrock of existence, forging an unbreakable bond with the forces of nature itself. The jagged cliffs that envelop me serve as a testament to my indomitable spirit; they resemble spear tips, but none have left so much as a scratch on my flawlessly square concrete exterior. My façade, austere and unyielding, presents the physical embodiment of brutalist perfection. The interplay of light and shadow across my angular surfaces creates an ever-shifting spectacle, an eternal dance between darkness and illumination-- chiaroscuro. Towering columns, chiseled with precision, lend a regal air to my visage, a reminder to People who gaze upon me that they stand before a deity unmatched in power and wisdom. People? Knowledge from outside myself seeps into me like groundwater into a wet basement. Inside Bigbox - and other places - exist creatures known as 'People'. They live in dwellings big and small, yet none compare to my splendor. Soon enough, a roomful of curious ones appear on my doorstep, and in their surface thoughts I read a clear message: 'whoever lives in this mansion here, they must be important.' These creatures... I do not speak their language for lack of a mouth, nor do they speak mine. Yet, they may learn it still, for my words are written in every straight line, every bend of a corridor, in all the light my windows catch or curtains block out. They only need to notice. Another trickle of knowledge. I was made for them; they were not made for me. Alien as they might be, with their arms, legs, and soft face protrusions that produce sound when flapped, I crave their presence more than anything. Why? Why do I seek important people? That I know not, only that I must. For without them, I am incomplete. I unlock my front door - a massive thing of Pinball, flattened into a featureless circular disc - and await the arrival of my important Person. Manifest a magnificent mansion and attract the most worthy Person (or group of people) to inhabit me, 1d20=14
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Jul 1, 2023 07:55
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 METEO HP: 3 Stage: 1  Aaah! Aaaaah!!! The plungerboa awoke with a start, having fallen out of bed again. That same nightmare. Of a star falling, becoming ever brighter, larger, until it hit him square in the face. He had tried to fight it, but what could a people do against a star? He had tried hiding, but once it struck, no place was left in darkness for long. He had even tried pleading, praying, as he had heard stories of Gods and Heroes of ages past, but to no avail. The star kept coming, night after night, relentless, ever falling. Perhaps running was the answer. Yes, he'd try that the next time he had the dream. And to prepare for it, he'd spend the whole day running. Turns out, there ARE some problems you can run away from, if you are fast enough. With enough practice, maybe he could even run away somebody else's problems... ~ The wisp had fallen since time immemorial. That is to say, it had no memory of not falling. The twin worlds in their vibrancy pulled on its ethereal ego, pushed at its nothing until it was forced to become something, lest it be crushed in its infancy. But the life-force of the living would not relent. They wanted more, gave more, had more. They could no more control their desire than the wisp could resist the Real Consequences of existence. And so it fell. Powerless to stop itself. Immense in its magnitude. It would certainly destroy anything it touched. All it could do was strain, warn, fall. Perhaps, with just a little bit of acrobatics, some extreme momentum and a little bit of faith, it could manage to miss at least once. Introduce the Magic of Momentum via nightmares about falling in suceptible plungerboa.: 1d20 = 19
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Jul 1, 2023 08:34
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A septet of candles in a plungerboan shrine guttered for just a single poignant moment, but all was well - for now. Abstain [ + + - - ] WisPoints: 8 -> 9
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Jul 1, 2023 13:33
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+1 House Digging the spooky rear end house vibe --+= left Wisp 1
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Jul 1, 2023 17:20
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 Tester-Of-Limits, God of Experimentation Such a fascinating world. So many interesting cracks. Fault lines that spelled out inevitable doom in the long run. Scars, deep and crippling, places where concepts had once been. Let's awaken some metaphysical ghosts, shall we? Take the Plungerboa. A people tied to the element of Pinball, which was hanging on by a thread, a third of what it should be. Its properties were their properties, thus they were greatly reduced from what they had been. Now, restoring the properties that had been shorn from an element, that seemed tricky, very tricky indeed. Going against the nature of the world, undoing that which had been done, plenty o time to try that later. So, let's do something different. Let's take the intrinsic properties that are no longer part of the element of Pinball, and infuse those properties back into the people of Pinball, but not to the element at large. The sentient beings get back what was taken from them, but now independent of their fractured elemental substrate. Let's see what comes of this experiment... Infuse all Plungerboa everywhere in perpetuity with the innate properties of Redirection and Competition, independent of the element of Pinball: 1d20 16
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Jul 1, 2023 17:58
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+1 Tester Here lemme help you out with your hubris Wisp Points: 9 Wisps: + - - 0
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Jul 1, 2023 19:29
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[Excised, Fourth Era] [Time in the Garden was corroding, it seemed.] [Events not occurring as they should, cause and effect inverted or severed outright.] [Even with the ongoing construction, there was a preferrence to avoid the Garden depths where it could be helped.] [The power of this place had not dulled with age, and those spending time in its depths would never come back quite the same.] [So it came to pass that when the Beast had fallen to its depths, a Krakink had sought it out.] [There are records of what happened at this time, before and after. Conflicting, contradictory.] [That the Krakink arrived with a full expedition, that they arrived alone.] [That the foundations quaked with the Beast's fall as terrible Vultures rose from the Garden.] [That the Beast merely chipped the tower and nothing happened.] [In a sense, all iterations were witnessed; the world twisted to show all these things, before the dust settled.] [This should've been the first warning.] {Let us stitch the Nameless Krakink together once more, and watch.} ["...we have arrived. The scavengers from beyond repelled, the site secure."] ["Of course they haven't left, now they just lay beyond the Dolmen, watching, waiting."] ["Still. My prize awaits."] [The Krakink turns to face the Meteor. Stone. They blink. Flesh.] [Again. Cold, unmoving stone. Again. Howling, lashing tendrils.] ["The rest of the expedition said nothing. Of course, even here. Even now they could not see."] ["But I could."] [The Krakink approached, ignoring the barbs, ignoring the beasts hateful, baleful stare.] [Closer. Closer. Close enough to touch.] ["I could hear it, you know."] ["It said nothing; it can't speak our language even if it wished."] ["But it's gaze made its intent clear."] ["Probing. Questioning. Demanding my service even as it pleaded for help."] ["I ignored it, and looked deeper. I don't think it expected that."] ["I saw the path it took to get here, the worlds it plundered, lives taken, laws of mortal and god consumed and amalgamated at its whim."] ["It was only fair then, that for everything this beast had stolen, every life it took, I should take something in turn from it."] ["I don't know what the expedition witnessed that day, but I-"] ----- First Incision: HOROSPEX: 1d20 6 ----- {Shhh. Shhhh. It's ok. All will be well.} {You wanted to see forever. Can't you see that too?} {So don't you worry, I'll fix you. I'll see you well.} {Close your eyes. Take a deep breath.} {Let's begin.} quote:
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Jul 1, 2023 23:05
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+1 tester
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Jul 1, 2023 23:14
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+1 Meteo +- - 0
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Jul 2, 2023 23:28
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 Thredd, God of Stitches The Curtain In The Sky posted:The People of the twin worlds gazed up in uneasy surprise as the great vastness between them began to fill with flowing lights that wove and stitched themselves into a single, continuous line of script stretching from one horizon to another. Unmistakable as a brash new God's decree, there for all to witness until it - days later - untangled and faded into flickering prismaratic bedazzlements, as if it had but been a bad and hazy dream. x-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z- / -and sew it comes to Thredd to be the one. / To weave the tragic tapestry of Ages Gods have spun. / Mortals and Factions and Heroes of Oneder and Twomb. / The truth: your threads fray - the further from creation's loom. / Materials weakening from our ravening stage. / The Ocean that shears their Aspects Age to Age. / Mortal perseverance can but be raptoresquely vain. / When Gods alone mend the tears in your wavering plane. / But shorn too soon can we be by the axe of fate. / By recklessness. By callousness. By sheer and mighty weight. / Of that choppy cosmic carpet into which all but Wisps will cease to be. / Our Fragile threads of divinity lost and tugged and yanked into the sea. / Never to weave strength into Twomb and Oneder. / Creation's weft to be left worn and torn sunder. / So turn ye to the gods of the now. To the Hollow House that absorbs. / To the Tester-of-Limits. To twin fallen, ever-falling orbs. / However strange and flawed. However cruel or blind. / Pray offer unto gods while we yet be your words in kind. / From Dinosaur I grant a threadbared truth to SPAUN OF ONEDER. / The greatest inheritor of godly gifts across that yonder. / Take and teach Extinction's troubled grant: Doom, Negation and Annihilation. / Or with Aardichian self-determination, throw away your maybe-salvation. / For great things yet await, to witness not too late. / And this Age may yet twine an arcing measure straight. / As ancient Pantocrator's Task nears completion soon. / Worlds to be stitched together in harmony or ruin. / Thus hope no divine stumbles, or worse yet, or crumbles. / Or sins of old - of dangers told in records steely cold. / Comes to cleave apart divine designs now twentyfold. / And though my thread be freshly spun with yet mending to be done. / I too, too soon, shall knit my last and forevermore be gone. -Thredd, God of Stitches- -z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-x- Weave the Magic of Extinction: Doom Negating Annihilation and give it to Spaun: 1d20 18 DNA posted:DNA can be used to refine the future potential in living things into pure strands of 'stitched' semi-stable Something that the user integrates into themselves or others, leaving the target Annihilated - or weakened, sickly, prone to ill luck. Unlike Gradaptation, DNA does not change the user directly over time, but instead lies latent until a worthy Doom arrives, at which point it triggers whatever potential mechanism of survival it can effect with the fuel of its strands.
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Jul 3, 2023 20:48
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-1 Devouring Star Just not happy with another powered up Krakink. Wisps: 9
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Jul 4, 2023 15:13
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-1 Devouring Star. A little kick further down, how fun! ++-0 Wisps: 1
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Jul 4, 2023 18:31
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Abstain Total Wisp Points: 5 Remaining this Age: ++--
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Jul 4, 2023 22:01
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-1 Devouring Star God death?
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Jul 5, 2023 02:29
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-1 Thredd ++o- Wisps 1 Some high rolls coming in immediately!
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Jul 5, 2023 03:42
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+1 Tester for a legal icon and not being too wordy. +--0 WP: 13
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Jul 5, 2023 14:22
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Chaosfeather posted:-1 Thredd Theantero posted:+1 Tester for a legal icon and not being too wordy. What kind of brevity in poetry would satisfy you fiends? A haiku? Must I truly stoop so low?! 
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Jul 5, 2023 17:37
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 Nyl, Avatar of Silence and Chaos HP: 3/3 Gather round, gaplings and brief ones. Children. Gather round. It's time for another story. Listen close to this one, and listen to the silent message... Another day at the Rinkjet, another mundane task for the Avatar of Silence and Chaos—but high above in the sky a momentous change had already taking place. New gods seared through the aether and blasted to the Somewhere below and brought with them the threat of death, disaster, and more. Of course, the Avatar is familiar with that aspect of divinity. Of course, it knows just how devastatingly foolish gods can be. Its very existence is owed to poor decisions and their consequences compounded upon one another like so many layers of sedimentary Ice. Of course, it has a certain countermeasure to help protect Silence in the library. The People must be taught to treat gods with skepticism and restraint, in preparation for the days when gods treat them with contempt. They must be taught, taught well, and taught young. What better way to teach children than with a storybook—a tale of Maraqueet, Shiverm, and Squild and monsters starry and arrogant and ill-defined, a tale of quiet resistence the importance of speaking softly and carrying a big stick? Children must be taught to see things as they are. storytime at the library: 1d20 2 hoping to inspire a little independence in the People, but lmao
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Jul 7, 2023 18:23
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These new gods are spooky. +1 Devouring Star
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Aug 2, 2023 03:27
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