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     "Oh dear. Oh dear." Those were the dockworker's thoughts upon witnessing Angeliar pull his boat ashore on Twomb. "Hello! Where can a fellow get some bait around here?" ---  Angeliar 3/3 HP The strange, and frankly - more than a little frightening - fisherman drew quite a crowd whenever he showed up at the market to peddle his latest catch. (And much to his irritation, also when he was trying to fish.) Among his daily haul were barrels full of common staples, but also a few oddities. Fish that were thought long extinct or were wholly unknown to taxonomists. Often they were quite tasty though.  Dirt cheap too. For a planet desperate for something to do this was prime entertainment. And so, eventually a day came when Angeliar was attending a lecture on the lifecycle of the urchink, the vast majority of the audience present were there just to see what the god would do next, and not due to any sort of interest in the subject matter of the lecture. Sadly, today's show was an uneventful one, with the divine manifestation merely thoughtfully nodding along to the explanation of the various forms taken by the larva on its way to becoming a spiky orb on the sea floor. "Excuse me!" After an hour of this, one person had had enough. "You honor, uh, god... person... dude?" They stammered for a proper title, with every single eye in the lecture hall fixated upon them. "What's the purpose of life?!" Was the question. And the answer, after a weighty silence... "Me reckons that you can't go wrong with a chair at the shore, with a good rod and net at your side." "What about death!? With the afterlife crumbling, is there still something? What comes after!?" "They go bad pretty quickly after they stop moving, the crusty ones in particular. But if you brine 'em they keep forever. Could go for a pickled salmneon sandwich right now..." The questioner trembled in exasperation, squeezing tightly in their claws a notebook full of burning questions both existential and practical. Without missing a beat they kept firing. "The breakings! How do we fix the elements!?" "Its all in the wrist, whatever you're doing, got to have a feel for it. Like so!" The god underlined his point with various limb movements, including picking up his fishing rod, and swinging it. The hook flew through a window, shattering it.  He reeled in a fresh hatchetjaw, straight from the seas of the other planet, Oneder. It was a good show. "What kind of fish is that?" Called out a new voice. Angeliar was very happy to answer, both this question and all the following, fish related, ones. There was now a new light in his voice, and soon enough he was the one up on the lectern of the hall, illuminating the fine art of angling. Later that same day he set out towards the sea, and took with him a group of other people also infected with fishing frenzy, whether by his influence or as a pre-existing condition, it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that they were going to catch the big one. Their happy procession travelled down the street, sharing jokes and good fishing spots amongst each other, planning out the impromptu oceanic trip they were going on. Having a grand old time until they reached the docks, where they awoke to the quite rude reality that there was no way they were all going to fit on Angeliar's little fishing boat. But before spirits could be deflated Angeliar slapped two of his limbs together with determination. "Looks like we need a bigger boat." Building the Fischanic, a floating base for all things angle, angling and angled. (Think more oil rig than a boat.): 1d20 20
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Jan 24, 2024 14:29
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Abstain. 1>2 ++--
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Jan 25, 2024 03:53
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 Flare, God of Heroes Flare, the spark of heroism, God of Heroes, sought out the one called Scritch. He found the tortured being in the darkest depths of the Hollow House, poring over his own notes by flickering neon lantern light. Drawing his spark through the pulsing neon, Flare alighted into the room, a sparkling being of golden fire, crackling like a firework and spitting brilliant embers all about him. "Well met, you old Villain!" Boomed his merry voice as Flare looked upon the cowering Squild. "You have done well surviving over the ages, despite your many, MANY flaws." And here Flare tut-tutted patronizingly. "And while I cannot commend you for your means, I must certainly allow that your industry and perseverance have been Heroic. And so, I offer you the Boon of the Gods." And Flare whispered the secret of heroism deep in Scritch's heart, healing his body's pain, making him something whole. "But this is not my only favour for you. You have a choice to make." Flare drew two items out from beneath his cloak of flame, one, the Ordinary-House-Key, the other, the icy orb Heaven-Through-Beauty. Raising the miracle up, he says. "Should you choose to take this key, you shall gain complete mastery over this house. However," and here he raises the Idol, "your knowledge would multiply tenfold should you take instead this orb. You must choose wisely." Making Scritch a Hero, healing him and offering him to activate one of the two remnants: the Ordinary-House-Key (consuming it) or Heaven-Through-Beauty. Making heroes bright: 1d20 15 edit: fixed image link The Wandering Mage fucked around with this message at 20:24 on Mar 28, 2024 |
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Jan 25, 2024 16:35
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Did you see that ludicrous display last breakingday? Abstain. [ + + - - ] WisPoints: 12 -> 13
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Jan 26, 2024 04:56
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Abstain ++-- WP: 1
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Jan 26, 2024 08:05
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Remarkably high-rolling round, which is nice IMO.
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Jan 26, 2024 08:12
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Jan 29, 2024 17:12
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Buncha fine amusing actions this turn. Abstain ++-- Wisp'n: 1
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Jan 29, 2024 17:40
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A bunch of good actions this turn that all seem to have succeeded? So Abstain [++--] 5 wisps
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Jan 30, 2024 14:26
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    Tweet, once an ordinary Maraqueet, woke to a vision of a world transformed by the touch of Hakurei, Goddess of Spirit. His inner Spirit, a vibrant manifestation of untapped potential, burst forth with newfound strength and purpose. As he ventured into the bustling streets of Bigbox, he found that he could perceive the Spirits within others—hidden desires, latent talents, and unspoken dreams. Inspired by the teachings of Hakurei, Tweet became a catalyst for change, fostering connections and awakening the dormant Spirits of those around him. The city saw a surge of collaboration and innovation as Spirits intertwined, creating a harmonious symphony of diverse talents and ambitions. Hakurei's influence, like a gentle breeze, sparked a renaissance of self-discovery and communal growth on Oneder. The city, once defined by its diversity, now thrived on the interconnectedness of these Spirits, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and newfound purpose. The social Magics of PteraFactFill and Enenen grew massively in popularity, allowing People to truly communicate in words what their Spirits saw in one another. And Bigbox wasn’t the only one to benefit - over the coming months the greater population of Oneder along the populated crescent came to hear of the cult of Hakurei and began to contemplate the mysteries of their own Spirits. (Hakurei creates the Hero Tweet, the first Twombian Hero on Oneder! Tweet is a Mystic and a Prophet, longing to awaken the spirits of others. Ghosts in particular are susceptible to his words, finding stability as long as they keep his teaching to heart. His philosophy gains quite a bit of traction in an unstable world.)  The plucky children of Oneder, inspired by the whimsical tales and the appearance of Clifford, the Big Blue Axehandle Hound, embarked on a spirited quest to uncover the whereabouts of the missing Plungerboa. In a colorful procession, they followed Clifford through the city, their laughter echoing through the streets. The child crusaders, hand in hand, took on the role of detectives, armed with the enchanting clues Toddles had provided. As they ventured through the transformed urban landscape, the children discovered hidden corners and forgotten spaces, revealing remnants of the Plungerboa's influence. However, their joyful quest was not without its challenges. The exuberant procession unwittingly stirred the shadows of the wilderness, awakening the predatory beasts displaced by the Breaking of Pinball. Unbeknownst to the children, the clues crusade became a beacon, drawing the attention of wild and disoriented creatures. Yet, in the face of these unexpected encounters, the children pressed on with determination, their quest blending innocence with the echoes of a world forever changed. (The children of Oneder are enchanted by the antics of Clifford, The Big Blue Axehandle Hound! They have many adventures, and wander around causing an adorable ruckus here and there that is, for the most part, just harmless fun. They haven’t found any Plungerboa so far, but, uh, maybe they’ll get lucky??? Right?)  Skritch gasped as healing warmth coursed through him, the pain that had haunted him for Ages dissipated, leaving behind a sense of newfound strength and purpose. He seized the key instantly, casting a disdainful glance at the Remnant Heaven-Through-Beauty, dismissing it without a moment's hesitation. His singular focus on mastering the Hollow House, the sanctum of his macabre experiments, overcame any fleeting curiosity about the alternative boon. The way he could use this, the things he could do… he stretched his awareness outwards. The Hollow House responded to Skritch's newfound Heroism, its dark corners bending to his will. The creaks and groans of the ancient structure echoed a begrudging acknowledgment as Skritch, now a peculiar demigod within its confines, began to reshape the very fabric of the Hollow House, weaving a tale of his dark ambitions and the strange Heroism that Flare had bestowed upon him. As the Hollow House echoed with the reverberations of Skritch's triumph, Flare, the God of Heroes, looked on with a knowing smile, content in the knowledge that another soul had been kindled by the flame of Heroism. The stage was set for Skritch to wield his newfound power, shaping the destiny of the Hollow House and all who dared to tread its shadowed halls. Skritch sighed contentedly - then locked all of the doors. He had work to do. (Skritch has become a Hero of Science! The (former?) Squild’s already powerful Intelligence is boosted yet further, as well as his Drive To Survive! He is near-obsessed with surviving even should his Element shatter, and his experiments with Extencil are kicked into high gear now that he has the Hollow House entirely under his command - including its occupants!)   M’eh's unconventional sermon echoed through chilly expanse of Twomb. At first met with puzzled looks and uncertain murmurs, the people of Twomb gradually embraced the absurdist philosophu that M’eh had bestowed upon them. The scholars, once consumed by the weight of impending doom, found themselves liberated from the burden of preserving a crumbling reality. The once somber halls of knowledge echoed with a newfound lightness, as if the very air had been infused with a cosmic shrug. Embracing M’eh's philosophy, the inhabitants of Twomb redirected their focus from futile attempts at salvation to the simple joys of existence. The air shifted gradually into an oddly festive one, as people gathered to share meals, laughter, and stories. The once-meticulous record-keeping became an exploration of the whimsical and absurd. Why bother? Why be bothered? The end would come for them all - but they’d all be dead by then anyhow, and their grandchildren and greatest grandchildren. Hell, their own Elements may not reach the finish line. A sort of perverse speculation arose regarding who, exactly, would be the last to see the sky. In Rinkjet, Nylid, the Ghost Hero of Bindings, found an unexpected ally in M’eh's unconventional wisdom. At first they resisted the sickly sweet lure of the nihilism the God preached, but as the shift in perspective took hold over the People under the Hero’s protection, they realized it could be used - a thread to bind People together anew. Together, they orchestrated events that celebrated the fleeting nature of their reality. The Library, once a sanctuary for desperate souls seeking refuge, evolved into a vibrant center for the exploration of joy before impending doom. If nothing else, it made for some extremely entertaining literature. (M’EH GAINS A SPECIALTY AND +1 TO FUTURE ROLLS! M’eh’s effort is tremendously successful, acting as both a persuasive philosophical lifeline in trying times as well as outright mental manipulation of the People of Twomb. Already inclined to be pretty resilient through their Ages-strong work ethic, the People swiftly accept the shift in perspective with an almost desperate fervour. A God told them that was the right way to think and - for the most part - they agree.)  Angeliar, the God of Fishing, brought more than just a peculiar catch to Twomb; he cast a net of inspiration and fervor for the art of angling across the planetoid. His unorthodox approach to life's questions, accompanied by his skillful fishing displays, captivated the denizens of Twomb. What began as an entertaining sideshow transformed into a full-fledged phenomenon as Angeliar, rather than fading into the background, took center stage. The lecture hall that once echoed with mundane discussions of marine biology now buzzed with excitement, transformed into a makeshift amphitheater for the fishing deity's impromptu lessons. As Angeliar shared the secrets of the sea, a wave of enthusiasm surged through the crowd, and the lecture hall gradually morphed into a hub of angling enthusiasts. The unexpected and enthusiastic response fueled Angeliar's passion, and his charismatic presence turned the great Ink Sea into a fishing haven. Inspired by his newfound followers, Angeliar embarked on a venture to enhance the angling experience. With a triumphant slap of his limbs, he set forth to build the Fischanic, an extraordinary floating base that would serve as the epicenter for all things angled. The structure, resembling more an elaborate oil rig than a mere boat, rose from the sea like a testament to the god's indomitable spirit and the burgeoning fishing craze. The Fischanic became a symbol of unity and purpose, drawing aspiring anglers from every corner of Twomb to partake in the shared joy of fishing and the camaraderie it brought. Twomb now echoed with laughter, tales of the one that got away, and the rhythmic sound of fishing lines casting hope into the sea. (ANGELIAR GAINS A SPECIALTY AND +1 TO FUTURE ROLLS! Angeliar builds the Fischanic, a floating base for People to hang out and fish at. This has the effect of turning People’s attention downward, towards the untapped Inky depths of their world, long ignored due to the far more interesting giant bridge into the sky. Squid are suddenly inundated with requests for submersible rides, and fish puns and memes explode in popularity worldwide. And, it goes without saying, the People of Twomb are even further distracted from their looming annihilation.) 
Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 05:02 on Mar 21, 2024 |
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Jan 30, 2024 22:32
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 Toddles, God of Children's Edutainment Toddles laughed and giggled and clapped and played with Clifford and the children. What fun! And they found clues and learned colors and numbers and the alphabet while playing along. What learning! Joy and joy! Of course, not every child could resist being naughty. Toddles sighed as a particularly mischievous Asaurted girl tried to get a few young squildren to eat a "yummy brown candy Dino Egg" that Clifford found. "Young Lady," he said as he looked her directly in the eye and held a reassuring blue circle on her shoulder. "Tell me what shape that is!" Even bad times are a good time for learning! The girl blushed and guessed it was a gold star? "That's right!" Toddles exclaimed. "It's a Blue Circle! Thanks for your help!" it continued. "I saw what you did before though and it disappointed me. Make sure you go apologize to the other children for being naughty. And then we can all follow Clifford to get some healthy Snacks!" it smiled. Her eyes glazed over as she did what she was told. Authority figures must be obeyed, after all. Toddles then grew three sizes (and two new colors and shapes!) that day and called the whole crusade over "Children, want to sing a song?" He asked the kids doing everything except pay attention to him. "Hooray! Sing all together after me and make sure you do the motions!"  The wings on the boa are made of Dino Made of Dino Made of Dino! The wings on the boa are made of Dino All around Oneder! The head on the boa is made of axe Made of axe Made of axe! The head on the boa is made of axe All around Oneder! The body on the boa is made of ice Made of ice Made of ice! The body on the body is made of ice All around Oneder! "It's the last one, let's keep singing!" The legs on the boa are made of neon Made of neon Made of Neon The legs on the boa are made of neon All around Oneder! "IT'S YOUR TURN!" he cried as he taught the kids how to pick the best parts off of plants, animals and people. "Let's follow Clifford's lead!" ----- Toddles appeared in the Hollow House with a far less joyful appearance. "Skritch you sick bastard I've seen what you've done. A bunch of kids are coming here with body parts and you're going to make a living Plungerboa out of them with your mad science. Or else." Toddles' icon turned into a blue circle and mimed eating a very small little Person. He then giggled and said in a sing song manner, "it's for the kid's happiness, after all. Can you say 'Let's do it!'?" "Very good!" it didn't wait for any reply. He hummed the wings on the boa as he disappeared slowly, smiling and staring at Skritch. Frankenboa: 1d20 15 Slaan fucked around with this message at 21:15 on Apr 4, 2024 |
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Jan 30, 2024 23:34
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 -1 Toddles +-0 remain 14th Wisping
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Jan 31, 2024 02:18
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 +/-- Arcanuse fucked around with this message at 00:05 on Feb 2, 2024 |
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Jan 31, 2024 05:29
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-1 Toddles Wisp Points: 5 Wisps Remaining: +, 0, -
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Jan 31, 2024 08:30
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 What? M’eh, God of Ennui is evolving!  M'eheh, God of Ennui and Idle Whim HP: 3 M'eh observed the generally chill vibes of Twomb languidly. Yeah, that was nice. Honestly, he hadn't expected his words to take quite that well. Hmm. In truth, the unexpected success had roused something in him. Not quite drive. Not quite ambition. But still, a will to voice half-baked ideas he would have left unspoken before. "Hey." The God spoke again, not bothering to even witness whoever he was addressing. "You are probably not all that aware, but things have always been better here than on that other orb. Don't ask why." "Or do." "Well, the reason is literally just the whimsy of the Gods. Always more willing to help out here than there for no particularly good reason." "Right, um, where was I?" "Ah, yes." "Regardless of all that, the Apocalypse is still going to be a shared experience. Would be better witnessed together." "But that thing you were building for literally the majority of the past and future existence of this Reality that could facilitate that went and broke down. Bummer, I know." "However, there's an Artifact in the ruins of that weird arena you had that could repair it in time." "Comes with ominous fine print, do mind, but like, reality's going down the gutter anyhow so might as well." "Right?" "Well, off you go." Order the nearest person capable of doing so to use Must-Come-Down to fix the Flickerfare: 1d20+1 15
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Jan 31, 2024 09:43
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Agneliar God of Angling and Deep Sea 3/3 HP, (+1) There was no official criteria you needed to fulfill in order to call yourself an angler, but if you paid a small membership fee you would get a newsletter few times a year. Plenty of people adopted the moniker at the height of the fad, but from early on everybody already knew that there was a difference between an angler and an Angler. Plenty of people visited the Fischanic for work or leisure, but once their business or vacation was done they went back home. All of them. All but the most fish-mad ones. It took a strange kind of fervor to live on the rig, with it's utilitarian inkproof construction, the constant hum of machinery — and such an overwhelmingly concentrated stench of fish that it left a visible residue on people and things. In short the long term occupants were either an admirable or a pitiful bunch, depending on your views. True Anglers every last of them. --- Clear skies, crisp winds. It was another perfect day on the open seas, and the Anglers were doing absolutely nothing. Dangling their lines over the edge of a platform jutting from the Fischanic's side, languidly following with their eyes the ships drifting over the horizon, waiting. Waiting for the catch. For once Angeliar was not happy to see this scene as he emerged from a hatch. Most of the fishers had dozed off. One Maraqueet was staring wide-eyed into the distance, an Assaurted idly leafed through a copy of the Book of Stagnance with one hand, smiling placidly. "What's this? You bunch look you'd rather be in bed! Are you supposed to be anglers or dried fish yourselves?!" The god exclaimed, pointing varius appendages accusingly. "Its a slow day. No bites yet." Said a voice from under a wide brimmed hat, drawing a response from behind a pair of novelty shades. "What she said. Nothing to do now but wait. What's the fuss about? Just yesterday you were here sitting with us." "Yeah, what's the harm in taking things easy?" Angeliar wasn't quite sure himself, but he fumed regardless. "Ffffffffff...! Pfah! Pfah! PFAH!!!" With his final 'pfah!', he crouched and then leapt high into the air, disappearing from view. "...What's his problem?" Said shades. A hat was raised slightly in turn. "I dunno. Big A has been acting kinda odd lately. Maybe we- HUH?!" The whole rig shook as the controls were engaged. From high above, the very top of the structure, a voice boomed "Time to wake up, crankbaits! We're going on an adventure!!!" Slowly the immense propellers beneath spun to life. "Next stop: the abyss!" --- Looking down one could see nothing, know none of the things that lie beneath. The sea that the Fischanic had been relocated to looked the same as anywhere else, but all knew the stories. Tantalizing rumors of the Fractal Garden, so far below. "All right here we are. Take these deep drop weights and lets get angling!" But the angling produced no results. When dropped deep into the darkest abyss the hooks never got bit. Nets returned in frayed tatters. Fish traps were laid on the sea floor around the perimeter of the garden, they filled with normal deep sea denizens, nothing from within the trench. Many wanted to plead to Angeliar to bring an end to this intense expedition so that they could all go back to their usual habits, but the god had declared that they were going to catch some "fractul fishies" or die trying, and the Anglers were only half sure that he had been joking. After everything else failed even the "Lets just go down there and grab the drat fish." method was also attempted (despite many warnings from people who knew better). It went very poorly, and would have ended in tragedy were it not for some last minute heroics on Angeliar's part. "Its useless!" Cried out a dead tired angler, falling flat on the floor. "Weeks and weeks of trying and we've got nothing! What are we doing wrong?" "Everything, probably. Hate to admit it, but we're flying blind here, no other way to put it. Nobody knows what the Fractal Garden is really like. The things down there might not even care at all for the bait we are using." Into this dejected dining hall discussion barged a beaming Angeliar. "Look at what I found lying around!" He rolled a large disk shaped object into the room. A mirror. Very pretty.  One Shiverm raised a brow in recognition. "Doesn't that belong to the-" "NOW, the problem is, as I sees it..." The god left Heaven-Through-Beauty leaning on the wall and began sketching on a whiteboard. "...that we don't know how to get this..."  "...to here!"  "But there is a always a way! Always! Look at this line I've drawn."  "This line is already there even before you cast your lure, before you bait your hook, before you get out of bed in the morning! As long as you know where this line is you can always get your hook to go where it is supposed to go! Like so!" Angeliar put down the marker and grabbed his fishing rod, but the audience quickly hushed him down, making it clear that there was no need for yet another preternatural feat to prove the point. "That's very cool and all, but how exactly are we supposed to do that?" Asked a mystified Angler. The god responded calmly, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Its very easy. I have no idea how all of you keep failing to see it. But this op-tee-cal apparatus should give you the leg up you need to get started." He patted the divine remnant by his side. ---  A drawn out isolation.  At long last, concluded.  Fruit of the garden. Connectively Contemplative Catchers consume creepy creatures: 1d20+1 14 (Bringing Heaven-Through-Beauty aboard the Fischanic.) (The capital-A Anglers consume their catch. Maybe Myriad, maybe something else from the Dolmen Gate.)
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Jan 31, 2024 17:30
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+1 Toddles WP: 2 Remaining: +--
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Jan 31, 2024 19:15
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+1 Agneliar [+--] 6 wisps I see you fisherfriend.
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Feb 1, 2024 04:44
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 Hakurei, Goddess of Spirit HP: 3/3 The Goddess of Spirit saw the workings of Tweet, her prophet and mystic Hero, and saw it was good. A social bird, destined for great things, captivating the heart of Onederians. They were beginning to contemplate their Spirits, and the interconnectedness of them all. This was good, very good. They, and the people, were starting to grasp the Truth. A gentle presence draped across her chosen, Tweet, a soft whisper speaking words of reassurance to him, his Spirit. you are doing well, my Hero. more connections are needed. awaken the Spirit of all. embrace Spirits. guide them, as only you can. all will be well. The presence of Hakurei subsided, leaving Tweet with her cold and gentle comfort to remember her by. And then she turned attention the myriad spirits, ghosts, surrounding him, those that had trailed her. They, too, had Spirits, were Spirits. Her cold comfort caressed them, as Hakurei worked her godly power on all Ghosts. If they wanted to be part of Oneder, or Thwomb, all they would have to do was Possess. Objects, unliving solids, whatever did not already contain a Spirit.. She taught them to do this and set them loose. For spirits were bound to do as their wont was. Teach the ghosts to Possess. They too will play a part. 1d20 9 BraveLittleToaster fucked around with this message at 21:31 on Feb 1, 2024 |
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Feb 1, 2024 19:08
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Spirit is everywhere - this is known - but putting an amount of it somewhere in a density great enough to allow for non-biologic coherence? Divine. +1 Hakurei. [ + - - ] WisPoints: 13 -> 14
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Feb 1, 2024 20:54
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Moving my +1 from Toddles to Hakurei. 3>3. Toddles doesn't really need the boon at this time, and I'm curious to see how Ghost-Possession and Myriad-Possession interact. Amusingly, I hope. +/--
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Feb 2, 2024 00:07
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Flare, God of Heroes Flare peered around at his peers and quickly concluded that things had…taken a turn. Before Must-Come-Down could be used, he flashed through the skies to the Flickerfare. In a blaze of fiery light, he dashed between the floating remnants of the masterwork, leaving behind him a trail of glittering golden embers, lighting the ideal route through them. As he went, he gathered up those people he had his eye on for his next visit, the Topseekers. Collecting them all on Onder in the city of Bigbox before whatever was about to happen to the Flickerfare happened, he seized upon the most experienced and rugged of the lot, an Aardice by the name of Split. “Noble Topseekers, I choose one of your brethren to be a new Hero of Nowhere.” And he lit the flame of heroism within the Aardiche. “Of course, no proper hero is complete without a mighty steed!” Bringing Split to Crate-Rewards-Equate, he gestured for the new hero to open up the venerable remnant. Within was a totally awesome two-seat hotrod-style flying car. As the audience just kind of looked between Flare and the car, the god made a few motions with his hands. “Beep beep, vroom vroom. Give it a try sometime.” Then he disappeared in an explosion of fireworks. Making the Aardiche Split a Hero and consuming Crate-Rewards-Equate to gift him a Flying Car capable of flying up to the portal between worlds. Making heroes - is that a car?: 1d20 8 edit: fixed image link The Wandering Mage fucked around with this message at 20:25 on Mar 28, 2024 |
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Feb 2, 2024 16:40
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Chaosfeather posted:+1 Agneliar Ah yes. Imagine, if you will, my surprise when I caught up to ksbd for first time in ages, and found out that they stole my god idea :v
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Feb 4, 2024 18:31
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+1 to Flare beep beep vroom vroom Wisp'n: 2 +-- left
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Feb 4, 2024 21:47
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Skritch, faced with the peculiar threat and the bizarre amalgamation of components at his disposal, couldn't help but marvel at the unpredictable nature of the divine intervention. What else could he do but work on the project? He had no particular care for the Plungerboa themselves, only for what their loss represented to him, but the experiment was at very least interesting. As the children cooed and watched him delightedly (uncanny as all hell, he thought), he bolted together something that could pass as one of those mythical Pinball creatures. In a dark alley, perhaps?  The twisted creation before him bore a grotesque resemblance to the legendary Plungerboa, a darkly humorous mockery of life. The makeshift creature twitched and writhed in an unsettling dance of stitched limbs and mismatched parts, the scattered ghosts stuffed into its noggin trying desperately to make sense of things. The children cheered, carrying it out of the room on their shoulders as it leaked and groaned piteously. In the eerie silence that followed, Skritch contemplated the implications of Toddles' warning, uncertain of the divine forces that now loomed over his macabre endeavors. Just what in the hell was the God up to? And then he shrugged various limbs and wondered what else he could do. (Skritch, with the… help of a few children with questionable taste in entertainment, manages to cobble together a vague facsimile of a Plungerboa out of science and madness and Extencil. Its fate is uncertain, but the fact that People (or at least A Person) can make living(ish) organism out of dead bits and a few ghosts is something of a miracle. Right? A miracle?) As the Hero Tweet turned his attention to the myriad Ghosts that lingered in the shadowy corners of Oneder, he encountered a challenge. The ethereal entities, bound by their own nature, proved resistant to the Goddess's attempts to teach them the art of Possession. While some ghosts eagerly embraced the lesson, others remained elusive, their spectral forms flickering in and out of Tweet’s grasp. The teaching of Possession became a delicate dance, with varying degrees of success among the incorporeal entities.  The consequence of Hakurei's efforts manifested in a subtle imbalance within the spiritual realm. As the ghosts attempted to Possess unliving objects, a few unforeseen complications arose. Some of the possessed items displayed unpredictable behavior, taking on a ghostly semblance of sentience. Everyday objects now exhibited peculiar quirks, from mischievous antics to unexpectedly helpful gestures, as the Spirits within them grappled with their newfound connection to the material world. Despite the partial success of Hakurei's endeavor, a whimsical and unpredictable energy permeated Oneder. The inhabitants found themselves living in a world where even the most mundane objects could possess a trace of ethereal life, a consequence of the Spirits' attempts to integrate into the physical realm. Hakurei, ever watchful, pondered the implications of this unforeseen twist, recognizing that the journey to harmonize the Spirits of Oneder with the tangible world would require delicate guidance and continuous effort. (Ghosts don’t quite get the hang of things. Some are simply better than others, some objects better vessels, and so on. The world generally gets spookier and more inconvenient, particularly out in the boonies where the more fragmented ghosts tend to congregate. Still, Tweet becomes more adept at teaching Possession, and even manages to slip outside their own body for a short time.) The newly raised Hero Split the Aardiche eagerly opened the Remnant Eternity in the middle of Bigbox, which dutifully folded, revolved, and shrank away to reveal a sleek and stylish flying car. The crowd looked on in a mix of awe and confusion as Flare, in his characteristic flamboyant manner, gestured for Split to try out the remarkable vehicle. However, as Split hesitantly approached the flying car, it became evident that piloting such a marvel was not within their comfort zone. Whether it was a fear of heights or simply an unfamiliarity with vehicular operation, Split's attempt to take control of the Flying Car turned into a comical series of misadventures. The car sputtered, hovered unevenly, and executed erratic maneuvers that left the onlookers bemused and entertained.  Flare, watching the spectacle unfold, couldn't help but chuckle at the unforeseen turn of events. The once-stoic Hero now found themselves in a whimsical situation, wrestling with the controls of the airborne vehicle, his chiselled, serious face a mask of concentration as the vehicle honked and soared through the sky on lines of blazing light. As the laughter of the crowd echoed through Bigbox, Flare vanished in a final burst of fireworks, leaving Split to navigate the skies in their unconventional flying chariot. (FLARE LOSES 1 HP! The Hero Split gets himself a sick flying car! It will take some practice to drive! Still - once grappled with, the vehicle will be the fastest way between worlds, and the mechanisms behind its operation could even be used to engineer simple vehicles for civilians! Eventually! The Eternity Crate-Rewards-Equate folds away for now, but it will return in another Age - its passive effects continue to apply to the containers of Bigbox (including the glovebox of the Splitmobile, containing some swanky gloves!)) As Must-Come-Down was invoked, the air crackled with an unsettling energy, and a wave of ominous anticipation swept through Twomb. In a flash of arcane brilliance, the Flickerfare bridge was restored to its former glory, its fractured structure made whole once more. However, the price of this miraculous repair soon became apparent.  Across Twomb, the fabric of reality quivered and trembled under the weight of the Artifact's power, unleashing a cascade of consequences that reverberated throughout the planetoid. Pollution levels surged to unprecedented heights, choking the pristine air with noxious fumes and casting a shadow of environmental degradation over the once-idyllic landscape. Tremors rattled the foundations of Twomb, shaking its inhabitants from their complacency and stirring a sense of unease that lingered in the air like a palpable shiver. Meanwhile, on the distant shores of Oneder, the spatial distortions caused by the artifact's activation rippled through the fabric of existence, casting uncertainty over the stability of the newly repaired bridge. A cursory examination from a safe distance over the next few weeks confirmed no Pinball-derived Materials - so exactly how sturdy was it? What was it made of? How had it been done? Overall, the ‘gift’ of the repaired bridge was viewed with suspicions, fear, and something like a queasy feeling of guilt. The People hadn’t been able to repair it, not really - the efforts of their forefathers had been bandaged by the Gods. (Flickerfare is repaired through the power of the Remnant Must-Come-Down - at a cost. The bridge between worlds is repaired, but it’s clear that the repair is slapdash compared to the grand work of before. Gone is the delicate masonry and detail-work that generations had put into it, replaced by brutally functional patching. Worse, polluted clouds and gouged terrain across the planetoid speak of impossibly fast resource extraction. But - the bridge between worlds is back! Huzzah! The Remnant Must-Come-Down goes dormant until another Age.) Elsewhere, as the Fischanic hove to above the Fractal Garden, the Anglers aboard quaked in fear. All had heard the tales of the place. Who couldn’t have? There were monsters in the deep, creatures beyond reckoning, dead Gods and half-Gods and worse. And now Angeliar bade them to fish in the deep darkness… well, he’d brought the bait. It’d be rude not to try! After some failed attempts, meditation upon Heaven-Through-Beauty brought things into clarity. Things down there were odd, slightly off-center of reality as they understood it - but they were still fish. With a tweak to their techniques, some deep breathing, and a sacrifice or two, they managed to hook something. An Abysall Inquill, stretching out like a huge length of rope as they hauled coil after coil aboard. It shivered and groaned in the unfamiliar light, exuding pale slime and looking at them all with all-too clever eyes. It tasted strange, but with an exotic piquancy that immediately had them cast their lines for more. Deep below, the Devouring One bristled at the intrusion into their domain, and a few unlucky Anglers were pulled below, crushed almost instantly by the pressure. But as they cast their lines down, something else reached up - the Lestattoo, hungry for the surface world, began to snip lines, collecting hooks and bait. Some even sent things back up, twists of coral looped crudely into deep-cast lines. They didn’t understand why they were doing it - not really - but their more-than-animal less-than-Person cunning compelled them to it. (The Anglers make contact - of sorts - with the Fractal Garden. Weird stuff is hauled back up and eaten, with mixed results. Most of the stuff down there hasn’t been on the surface or even accessible to inkuatic People in Ages - or ever, at all. Cuisine sees a sudden boon as tons of new ingredients flood the markets - and so does horrible food poisoning, or worse, but it’s all part of the experience. The Devouring One rumbles at the intrusion to its territory, but by its nature it doesn’t want to LEAVE the Garden… it just doesn’t want anything else to, either. This leads to some grisly deaths and urban legends, but at the current scale of fishing it’s not too disrupted. The Lestattoo stir in the depths at the strange communication from the surface dwellers, but so far none have been caught…)  … The air ripples, and the crack in the Barrier knocked by Meteo in an Age past bulges suddenly, issuing something from Beyond… and something else. While all eyes turn in alarm to the crackling crimson rent in the sky, the damage spreads further, invisibly, reaching down, down… and back. In the darkness before creation, blearly eyes squint at unfamiliar light - and seize it, hauling greedily at the chance for air, for meaning - for prey.  Two intruders, one familiar, one strange, burst into the world. The sky rings like a bell for three days, and then the rent seals itself just enough. What, People ask, in the hell was that? (INTRUDER WISP BREACH! Wisp folk, roll off to become an Intruder Wisp. As an Intruder, roll 1d10 and make a single Act, unaffected by other Wisps. Cause some chaos, why don’t ya? Speaking of chaos… Wedge has returned. He drops down on Twomb, smack dab in the middle of the largely-abandoned Arisaurna plateau. An unimaginable amount of time has passed for him (or only an instant) and he is mad and hungry and confused. He is the single most dangerous Person on either world.) Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 18:52 on Mar 21, 2024 |
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Feb 22, 2024 17:08
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e2:Wisp Incursion (with the right die this time): 1d100 85 +3 wisp bonus on top of that i guess? 
Arcanuse fucked around with this message at 17:37 on Feb 22, 2024 |
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Feb 22, 2024 17:19
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Looks like Twomb might not be the best planetoid to be on for long, huh. Look who's back! Let's see if I can join 'em. Intrusion wisp roll: 1d100+2 54 Alas, Arcwisp tried harder. Why couldn't you have kept the first roll?! 
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Feb 22, 2024 18:27
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Wisptrusion: 1d100 52
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Feb 22, 2024 19:47
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Announcer 1: The last time we saw Wedge, they were asked to "Be Careful with that Axe, You Djinn." Announcer 2: Let's see if they were successful, Bob. +1 First To Post. [ - - ] WisPoints: 14 -> 15 Wisptrusion: 1d100+15 111 
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Feb 23, 2024 14:43
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Toddles, God of Children's Edutainment Toddles sat down and had a think. What sorts of education had the kids been lacking? Well, here in Oneder there was an increase in quality schooling from its own efforts, but Twomb was missing out on the fun edutainment! The Kids had to visit and start educationing! So Toddles reved up its edutainment finger and got to work. First, it grabbed a big Box from the pile around the old artifact in Bigbox. Then, it grabbed Clifford and got to do some arts and crafts! Some glue here (a little is a lot kids!!!!), some glitter there, a few googly eyes and stickers plus some minor uses of safety scissors and voila, a magic Dogbus! It called his viewers around and told them to get on the bus, it was time for a Field Trip! Clifford the Big Blue Dogbus barked in excitement as it opened his doors. Toddles got into the drivers seat and yelled back, "Seat belts everyone!" Poor unfaithful Axnol in the back closed his eyes and muttered, "Please let this be a more normal crusade." The kids all yelled back, "With the Todd? NO WAY!" and the bus took off into the sky, aimed straight at Twomb. Todd turned up the radio. 🎵 Cruisin' on down Onder You're relaxed and entertained Next thing that you know you're seein' Quillfish in the neighborhood!? The bus splashed down into the Great Ink Sea near the Fischanic, and the kids watched the fish being angled upwards. Pingin'' like a pinball Swingin' through the ice Take a left at Flickerfare now And over Arisaurna! The camera flies behind a very puzzled Wedge watching a giant blue Dogbus flying through the sky above him. On the magic dogbus Question a quilsine Climb on the magic dogbus! Erode an iceberg too (Take That!) On our magic dogbus Quilyak a quantum of inkstains On the magic dogbus Such a sharp thing to do! The bus flies above the ink sea again and we see the new Plungerbwhoa fall out of the window. Toddles' icon flashes into numerous colors and shapes as the kids ooh and ahh. So strap your handle right to the seat Come on in and don't be shy Just to make your day complete You might get to watch a Kaiju fly! The Plungerbwhoa seems to stay the same size to the kids as it falls. But this is just a trick of perspective, for as the dog bus comes around again we see a massive tidal wave form from the impact of the Plungerbwhoa. It had grown to monstrous proportions as it fell! On the magic dog bus Step inside it's a cool ride! Come on! Ride on the magic dog bus!!! 🎵 The kids heard the dog growl heavily as Toddles reved the engine. "Time to explore the Kaiju anatomy everyone!" Aquila cheered and Axnol grew nauseous and Dino-green-in-the-face as the Dogbus flew into the Kaiju's ear canal. Making a Kaiju on Twomb using the new With the Todd, no way!: 1d20 9 Slaan fucked around with this message at 21:15 on Apr 4, 2024 |
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Feb 23, 2024 15:04
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A familiar cackle rings out when the shatter occurs Incursion: 1d100+6 89
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Feb 24, 2024 03:09
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Flare, God of Heroes HP: 2/3 In the midst of the depths of the Fractal Garden, before the monstrous bulk of the Devouring One, a mote of light appeared. It grew, and crackled and sparked and blazed until the God Flare stood before the Devouring One in all his radiance and lit that lightless land as it had not been lit since the dawning ages of Nowhere. “Well now, if it isn’t the old monster of the deep himself! My good Devourer, you have been doing a wonderful job keeping your domain quite safe from the dangers found beyond this realm of magic and chaos. But a threat has now come to this world that, really, I can’t imagine any wall or barrier might turn away. Wedge has returned, and he is a threat to all of creation!” Flare grinned widely and in his most coaxing voice, continued, “In this time of strife, I am seeking out the brave and the strong throughout all of existence, and there is one who became many within this domain of yours, that I would like to bring into the coming battle – should there be one. In fact, I would like to raise all of the Lestattoo out of their barbarity to become a part of the worlds above. However, this shall forever be their homeland, and I would hate for your reaction to be severe upon this people that you have so long cared for, as a parent might their child. You must learn to let your charges venture forth – to experience the world, and to grow and flourish. This is the bittersweet moment that every parent must prepare themselves for. I hope that you will heed my words and loosen your grasp upon them.” Leaving the Devouring One to decide for itself, Flare split himself amoung the many hearts of all the Lestattoo, and touched the hidden spirit of Pindiana within each of them, redoubling the powerful impressions of civilization, of adventure and exploration, of honour and trust that dwelled within that unconquerable soul. Amoung them all, he found one with the strongest memories of the lost adventurer, and using pieces of all that he had discovered along the way, reconstructed that daring personality within the exemplar of the Lestattoo and lit the fire of Heroism within him. “Go forth, and show the worlds above what you’re made of!” He cried as his power flashed about him. Attempting to raise the Lestattoo to become a full People and creating a Hero imbued with the spirit of Pindiana from among them. As a secondary aim, trying to convince the Devouring one to let the Lestattoo come and go as they please. Raising the Lestattoo: 1d20 10 edit: fixed image link The Wandering Mage fucked around with this message at 20:25 on Mar 28, 2024 |
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Feb 26, 2024 17:23
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-1 Toddles Wisp Points: 6 Wisps Remaining: +, 0
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Feb 26, 2024 19:02
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-1 to Flare. 3>4. I fear the flaw runs a bit deeper to their very nature. But they will cherish the attempt all the same. More godflesh is always welcome. And, perhaps, some Lesttatoo might even escape their prison in the attempt. Consume some locals. Hold the emptiness at bay a while, while becoming something more. +/-
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Feb 27, 2024 04:06
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(hello my image host stopped hosting images and I'm leaving the country for a few weeks so... Imagine the pictures for a while until I come back and can fix it At any rate looks like Lux is our intruder, so give me a 3x3 grid icon and roll 1d10
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Feb 29, 2024 08:04
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Dog Kisser posted:At any rate looks like Lux is our intruder, so give me a 3x3 grid icon and roll 1d10  TSABAST - Intruder, Expert at Tailgating behind Demigods through Dimensional Corridors, Spiritually Feline (Radio Static: King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Theia / The Silver Cord / Set) Thought. Light. Chances. Changes, Odds, Concepts, Styles, Roles and Schools. Hanging onto that bizarre rusty bladeface with the irrational number for an age statistic was turning out to have been a most excellent idea. Let's have meowrselves a better lookit these here revelations... Commit trickery against Wedge to glean information from artifact Blade-Hungers-Above, to recover and consume ADAM's 1HP-Fragment lost in Nowhere's unglimpsed past!: 1d10 9 -  Luck was at play!  TSABAST snickered faintly in Wedge's ear-plate, intending to be unseen by the maddened brute, before departing for a location she could now both conceive of AND finally perceive with her own invisible spiritual 'eyepieces' - that mysteriously-evasive boondoggle of her innermost wisp-desires - and pluck it from its hiding spot to keep it all for 'herselves' (she had lived manysuch lives, you see)... The peculiar boundary-bounding Intruder's spectral trio of crystalline eyes flashed with a glimmer of Hope-powered magic as TSABAST detected echoes of the Divine creeping out from under the soil somewhere under the Mattockhorn's lowest roots. She held her spirit-form's intangibility and traversed downward through the material solids in search of the faint deific signal. The 'balance' had been rough for the dispossessed wisp in the beginning before she became TSABAST by riding into her reality on Wedge's shoulder, but her demiurgical communications with Wedge's potent Artifact BLADE-HUNGERS-ABOVE had now reached a point where she could actually cut her ties to the ancient cord-cutting-vessel(s) and seek the God that once blessed the Hungering Blade as a force of Great Preservation... ADAM, god of the Atom. Astrally, a fossilized anachronism was found through The Axkashic Records located deep in the past, and yet - somehow - a shuffling of meta-spiritual electron-assisted lives in the far-flung future had forcefully enabled a fortuitous jolt of investigative energies in assessing the old Gods of Nowhere that ultimately led to an archaeological digsite being dug in the right places this time... ["Uppan Adtom~  Meow'll Be Right Back!"]
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Feb 29, 2024 10:55
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M'eheh, God of Ennui and Idle Whim HP: 3 M'eheh made their way to Wedge, but found the ancient being already addressed by the strange intruder wisp. At first they tried to pay attention to the proceedings, but the thing was far too plodding and faux-mysterious in its delivery for M'eheh's taste for the plan to succeed. Hopefully it didn't do anything too troublesome. Regardless, the God patiently waited for their turn. "Right... anyways..." "Sorry it took us so long to save you from TIME PRISON, Wedge." "We were busy." "So, anyways, I frankly never paid too much attention to you or your story, but I think you were some sort of warlord or some other such destructive individual before you were sealed away by some other happening that I also frankly just forgot about?" "So on that note I bring you good news: You don't have to destroy the World or its people because it's already destroying itself. Along with the people. They aren't surviving the World destruction." "Your job as like this looming badness has been taken over by more deeply existential forces that is to say, making the role you probably expected to play rather obsolete." "Sooo... why not go on vacation instead? Hell, just retire wholly?" "There's all kinds of funky new fish and ways to fish them due to a brand new fishing God if you're feeling peckish." "And if violence is more of like a recreational thing for you, there's a kaiju around you can wrestle." "All kinds of stuff to do whilst waiting for the end. Take it easy, no reason to be a dick about all of this, essentially." Tell Wedge to chill out. If he's hungry, there's all kinds of cool fish now, and if he really wants to fight, I guess he can tussle with the weird new kaiju on his off time? No pressure though.: 1d20+1 15 Theantero fucked around with this message at 10:34 on Mar 2, 2024 |
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Mar 2, 2024 10:29
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(Hello folks, pardon my construction dust - in the process of rehosting all images and stapling them all back in place. over the next week or so images will start popping back into posts, hopefully sooner than later. some images here and there might be lost, but we'll do the best we can and go from there!)
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Mar 15, 2024 19:01
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 Hakurei, Goddess of Spirit HP: 3/3 Observing her partial success in teaching, Hakurei could only be vaguely bemused, leaving the ghosts be for now, with only her cold comfort lingering. There was more to do. this is how Spirits can be. With that simple comment, the Goddess of Spirits set off to her next work. For there was still more to be done. Hakurei once more gently settled her presence around Tweet, bearing another lesson, one that he must convey to all those who had Spirits. Hero of Spirit. hear me well. all Spirits are special. together, they will be greater. as one, they can be greatest. Hakurei showed her vision to Tweet; The vision of countless Onederians and Thwombians, eyes glowing with vibrant, manifest Spirits, talking happily together, with plenty of food grown with the people's strength of Spirit, throwing one of the most lively and carefree parties around, in a grand shrine created by them working together in Spirit. The vision changed. A great and terrible beast was looming over a city, brimming with rage and fury and magic. But the spirits of all those within worked as one, an ethereal bolt manifested by all striking the beast from the glowing city, striking it down forever and ensuring peace. One more time the vision changed. Tweet beheld the sight of everyday spirits, Fae, ghosts, people, all showing their great Spirit. Peace. And with Tweet as their gentle Hero, prophet, and friend. i shall teach all Spirits As One. help guide them to what they need. awaken more Spirits. it is better for all. you are the only one who can do this, my Hero. all will be well. Teach all those with Spirit how to be Spirits As One with each other. Combined, focused strength of Spirit can do great things. If there are enough to do so. 1d20 13 BraveLittleToaster fucked around with this message at 23:26 on Mar 21, 2024 |
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Mar 21, 2024 20:31
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| # ? May 6, 2024 03:44 |
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Abstain. +- remain 15th Wisping
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Mar 21, 2024 21:10
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