STATUS:
"You're me from the future, and you came back to the past to keep me from suffering like you did?" asks my childhood self. "Something like that," I reply as I load the gun.
5 days ago
Current
"You're me from the future, and you came back to the past to keep me from suffering like you did?" asks my childhood self. "Something like that," I reply as I load the gun.
5
likes
6 days ago
That bot left a number and email. Someone should cast "Unending Newsletters" for them.
2
likes
27 days ago
Writing horror is super difficult because it requires telling a story while shutting up at the same time. It's fear of the UNKNOWN, not fear of the well-written descriptions.
9
likes
2 mos ago
Say "thanks," when they compliment you and smile. Watch more of what's going on around you instead of staying inside your head. If eye contact's hard, stare at her forehead.
1
like
2 mos ago
@ColdAtlus: Cheems.
1
like
Bio
On CST time, United States. Typically busy most of the week and do most posting/replying on weekends.
@Crimson Flame Wait what, how are his parents wizards? Isn't the "former life" supposed to be our normal, modern day Earth?
@TheNoCoKid To be honest it doesn't matter as much to me which one of them picks him up. Although I'm kind of hoping for a non-human, monstrous roll so I guess if I HAVE to pick, I'd pick Drasil?
@TheNoCoKid Here's my first draft, please let me know if anything needs to be adjusted! Now let's pull the reincarnation gacha!
"Everyone says, "Look on the bright side!" but I already am. I'm standing here watching a nuke go off."
Age: 26
Appearance: Dalton is easy to miss in a crowd; it's not so much about how generic he looks, but how easily his presence can just be...overlooked. He's one of those people that doesn't mean to creep around, and yet always seems to scare the bejeezus out of someone when he walks up behind them and asks them a question. He always looks like he's at that point of frustration where something inside you breaks and you just don't have the capacity to care anymore. Yet he's still capable of smiling and laughing--a sick, wobbling grin that makes people a little uncomfortable, and a booming cackle that sounds like ye-olde-super-villain.
Despite that, he's a surprisingly sharp dresser. It's like he's trying to look his best, but there's a "blazer and slacks" spectrum between CEO and homeless person, and life is doing its best to drag him down to the lower end. Even on a casual day, Dalton prefers to look and behave professionally. He makes an effort not to slouch, and over the phone he has a phenomenal customer service voice that can make you believe he actually loves what he does.
Job: Bank Loan Officer
Cause of Death Three car pileup caused by a teenager on a cellphone.
Background:
Drink your milk, eat your vegetables, stay in school, don't do drugs, and get eight hours of sleep. A polite, well-behaved society encourages everyone to follow little rules like that, right? Dalton's parents taught him this very early on in life. Do unto others as you'd have them do unto you. It's like a math equation, really. Get good grades in school, so you can go to college. Get a college degree, so you can get a good job. Get a good job so that you can afford a house and raise a family. It's the everyman's dream! Plug the right numbers in, and you'll get the right answer. Two plus two ALWAYS equals four!
Dalton didn't have many friends, but in the third grade he could read at a post-collegiate level so that was good, right? He got bullied in middle school, and shunned in high school, but that was okay because ignoring the formative years of socialization just meant he had more time to study so that he could be sure to get a scholarship! He could afford to put off having things like a social life or romantic relationships until after he was successful, right? It wasn't like he was a bad person, he still made an effort to treat people nicely...even if it backfired a lot because he was awkward or couldn't read the mood. Geez, it was like he'd missed some kind of handbook on how to fit in...
It's too bad that no one cares who the valedictorian was after highschool. And it's too bad that college is more about social networking among all the guys whose dads have yachts than it is about academia. And it's too bad that companies don't want to hire anyone who doesn't have experience, but you can't get experience without being hired. And it's too bad that the housing bubble popped and now the house your dad could've bought on a blue-collar part-time job and raised three kids in is now valued at ten times the amount while the yearly wages are the same they were thirty years ago.
And it's too bad that being nice to people just means you're a doormat, and the people who REALLY succeed in life are, as confirmed by uncomfortably large bodies of research, LITERAL sociopaths. But that doesn't mean doing the right thing is wrong. That doesn't mean all the morals and "good old traditional values" weren't relevant anymore, right? Dalton knew he could still accomplish what he wanted in life, he just had to keep doing the "right" things!
But for some reason, other people wouldn't. There were a lot of examples throughout Dalton's life, but one in particular really stuck with him. Not long after he'd just started at the bank, working as a lowly teller (a job completely unrelated to what he'd spent four years in college for, but a paycheck was a paycheck), his mother had a heart attack. His parents had him later in life than was usual, and both of them lived laid back lifestyles without getting as much exercise as they should, and so forth. So she had a heart attack, and his father called the ambulance. On the way to the hospital, she had to be resuscitated multiple times. Dalton received a call from his father and immediately asked his boss to leave...but was told that the teller line was too busy, that it was a regular payday for local businesses and the afternoon rush had just started, they needed him to stay. When Dalton explained the situation, his supervisor gave him a stern look and asked, "Well, what're you going to do about it? You're not a heart surgeon. You wouldn't be doing anything useful there."
After work, Dalton raced to the hospital. His mother had undergone a double bypass, and after being released from the CCU she was placed in a private room just down the hall from the nurse station. He couldn't be there with her except for the early mornings and late evenings. But one night, before his father had returned to the hospital room, his mother began acting strangely. Dalton called the nurse, who dismissed the random spikes in blood pressure as "surgical pains." But it continued, and Dalton continued to hit the nurse call button. After thirty minutes of back and forths, the nurse growing increasingly more agitated, she stopped answering the button entirely. His mother grew worse, until Dalton grew desparate enough to run down the hall. The same nurse sat at the station, snapping a mouthful of chewing gum and painting her long, witchlike nails, was in the middle of a phone call. When Dalton begged her for help, his voice echoing the sterile hallways, she "shh'd" him and pointed at the phone. He yelled that his mother was dying. The woman told him, in a very stern voice, that she was on the phone and would get to him in a moment. Dalton looked at her nametag--Shaniqua--and addressed her personally, pleading for help. He leaned over the counter and grabbed one of her hands. She jerked away from him, her nails raking his arm in the process, and told him to "calm yo ass down!"
Dalton doesn't remember what happened after that, just that security escorted him out of the hospital after his mother died. He was never prosecuted for anything.
Life went on. He went back to school and got promoted at work, but that just meant they started demanding even more from him. His dad passed away too, so he finally had a house to himself, but everything was still too expensive. He never found a girlfriend, but that was because he swore off dating apps after several bad experiences and had no idea how to meet women the "normal" way.
He started to ask himself a few very simple questions, in the years to come.
"If everyone knows the difference between right and wrong...why does no one do what they're supposed to do?
I tried my best to do all the things I was supposed to do...so why does my life suck?
And why...why do I hate other people so goddamn much?"
Appearance: Whatever variant of creature he becomes, Dalton maintains an unusually rigid posture, better-than-usual hygenic habits, and some visual indicator of the freckles he used to have as a human. His build is also more lithe than the standard for that particular species.
Race: GM Choice
Deity: GM Choice
Weapons/Tools: Will depend on his reincarnation. Whatever natural options for magic or tool use are available to him, Dalton will carefully consider and try to optimize his situation as much as possible. That said, he's been...very pent up, in his former life, so the ability to RIP AND TEAR would likely be something he'd gravitate towards to some degree.
Likes: List some things your character likes - Seeing people he likes try their hardest and succeed; cathartic payoff. - Seeing people he doesn't like or agree with be humiliated and obliterated. - Being able to enjoy simple things without feeling like you're being unproductive, or like a bill is looming over you with every purchase.
Dislikes: List some things your character dislikes - The idea of a 60-hour work week. - People that blame a singular economic or political structure for the various facets of what's utterly wrong with human civilization. - Being vulnerable to the whims of others; the feeling that his own decisions are mandated by something "over" him.
Quirks: - Talks to himself as if he's multiple people in order to work through his own thoughts or make big decisions; has been caught more than once referring to himself as "we" by accident. - Reads at 450 words per minute with 74% retention rate. - Unknowingly intimidates people sometimes because he tried to fix his inability to make eye contact by staring at their foreheads instead, and never realized people don't usually hold total eye contact.
Is the camp actually in a city? I was getting the vibe it was kinda out in the middle of some good ole' Midwest cornfields.
It is, yes! But when the escapees get away from the camp and go to ground, I figured they'd try to blend into crowds, jump down a sewer grate, etc. A desperate race to get into city limits, kinda like the Nomad intro in Cyberpunk 2077.
Just wanted to let y'all know I'm still here! I just figured I'd wait to post with Ben until the prison-break finished, since I had the assumption that some characters on either side would probably be spilling over from the camp into the city.
But my big concern right now is actually this talk of it beng a sandbox. I hope there will still be the chance for regular character interactions because if I wanted to just write about my character doing cool stuff on their own, I'd write a story. I'm here to RP lol
Yeah, I'm a little worried about this too. I'm hoping I'm not alone in planning to have my character take actions that will hopefully and intentionally put them on other Players' radars--if any of us start doing things like carving out our own territories, managing villages, or clearing big dungeons within the setting, I'm hoping that will ripple outward and attract the attention of other Players, maybe even NPCs. Of course, the trick will be in getting that attention without starting wars or being chased out of town with torches and pitchforks, lol.
Lol lmao. We could’ve just walked out and peaced out no problemo.
Perhaps the monster is an old man yelling at his downstairs neighbors to stop all that racket? XD
How does one gain a new skill? Like, let's say I want to be able to put someone to sleep with my voice. Would it a be contanst try to get do that using my current skill OR would it be more in the terms of what I eat? Just want to be sure.
To gain completely new Skills, Orcs can generally only Inherit certain abilities as they level up (as is the case with [Berserk] and [Dusk Vision]) or Ingest new Skills from what they eat as you've seen so far. There are, in rare instances, Skills that can be gained another way (Some of Bowbh the Blacksmith's Skills are an example of this). However, even an Adult Orc has a limit on the number of Skills they can obtain. In order to gain different Skills after they've reached that limit, they either have to Rank Up existing Skills in order to make them more versatile, or they have to Evolve. Evolution will either change the Orc's species/type, and thus their number of available skills, or it will cause Skill Fusion between certain "compatible" abilities and free up their Skill Slots.
Once you have a Skill, such as your Sing or any other Skill you'll gain in the future from Ingestion, using that Skill over and over again (or in new and interesting ways) will steadily progress it over time. For instance, Lazash has been pretty consistent with using Creature Analysis on everything she's come across, even creatures she's already analyzed, and as a result that Skill progressed to Rank II recently.
It should be noted that each Rank is more difficult to obtain, and that the same actions that increased a Rank previously will have a diminishing rate of returns. Think about it like training in Martial Arts. If you swing your sword the same way 1000 times, you'll definitely get good at performing that particular movement. But someone who only swung the sword 500 times, and then fought 10 matches where they actually had to use that technique in different situations, would probably have a much better understanding of their own improvements. Practice makes perfect, but experience makes the difference!
TL;DR, in order for you to put a target to sleep with a Skill, you could either try to Rank up Sing and see if that changes any of its status effects, or you could hunt monsters with similar abilities!
@Unkown58@Lucius Cypher@King Cosmos@Kazemitsu@Crusader Lord While Esfir, Lazash, and Akeno debated whether to run from the cave, try to hold off the roaring creature, or to hold their ground lest they be seen out in the open, the very creature they were all terrified of...was silent.
No more roars came echoing down the cave. The sound waves soon were absorbed by the rock, and the quiet soon reigned once again. There were no mushrooms left, only a pile of ash, and all that remained of the beetle was currently in Lazash's hands.
There were no sounds of stomping footsteps, no claws raking into stone. Just the dull, dark silence, as chill air settled in the cave.
The outside remained clear as well, as Grunthor and the others had seen several rustling, scurrying shapes hurry away just as the Runts themselves were considering. But none of those monsters returned yet, and their pattering and skittering sounds too had gone silent.
Further up the trail, the waterfall continued to spill its misty contents, and the stream continued to meander swiftly downhill. Everything else was still.
The Forest
@Rune_Alchemist@Timemaster Carmina's ability failed to activate, as a buzzer only she could hear brought up an error message from the System. It seemed using the Sing skill required her to...well, sing, or at least speak in rhythmic verse as she'd practice before. And despite her careful movements and Svarok's support, without her song there was one determining factor between the two Orc Runts and the goblin. Carmina did everything slowly as she circled.
The goblin, on the other hand, bolted as fast as his scrawny legs could carry him. Though they had been trying to flank the creature, there was still plenty of space between the two young orcs for the greenskin to dive through the bushes. He paid no heed to any branches scratching his face or brambles underfoot as he ran in a panic, squalling the whole way.
If they threw a weapon, or gave chase, it was still possible to catch him---but unlike when Svarok had pursued him earlier, he wasn't intentionally going slow this time to lure them into an ambush. They would have to decide fast and move faster, without regard to anything else in their surroundings, if they wanted to catch the mischievous monster.
Of note, however, was that the goblin wasn't heading south towards the mountains, but rather east, deeper into the forest...
Mangled Tainted Harpy has been dismantled! Eviscerated Tatzelwurm has been dismantled! Some components have been damaged or are unusable.
Usable Items Acquired: Tatzelwurm Fangs x2 Sharp Tatzelwurm Claw x1 Tatzelwurm Eye x1 Broken Coilbone x1 Tatzelwurm Hide Strip x3 Tatzel Venom Gland x1 Raw Tatzelwurm Meat, 8.5 lbs (13 lbs w/ bones, blood, viscera, etc) Harpy Teeth x2 Broken Harpy Talon x2 Harpy Talon x1 Harpy Wing Membrane x2 Harpy Screech Valve x1 Raw Tainted Harpy Meat, 7 lbs (11 w/ bones, blood, viscera, etc)
Item Obtained: Charcoal Crafting Process: Charcoal + Tainted Harpy Meat Usable Items Acquired: Raw Harpy Meat, 7 lbs Powdered Weak Tatzel Venom
Consumed: Raw Tatzelwurm Meat New Ingestion: Tatzelwurm - 40% Ingested Skill(s): Tatzelwurm - Further Progress Required You've discovered Compatible Skill(s)! Tatzelwurm:
Slash
Poison Attack
???
Ingest Skill? OR Continue Biomass Accumulation?
As Agar called out to the Head Hunter, Shamar slowly turned towards him. Her knife hand flicked a bit of gristle from the blade to the dusty ground, and she wiped one hand on the hides she wore. As she took in the runt's two kills, one of which he was in the process of eating, she raised an eyebrow.
"Oh really nowz..." she said in a higher pitched, not quite melodious voice compared to the throaty gravel tones of most male orcs. "Well. I can see youse had a su'cessful hunt already, little Runt. But real scowts gotta be able t'do more'n kill stuff gudder." She looked over Agar's head, back at the camp, and thought for a moment as she tapped one slender, black nailed finger on her chin. Then she smiled, showing her sharp canines.
"Alright, if'n ya wants to be like me... den take yer pick!" She reached into a pouch on her belt, and pulled out a bright green mushroom. "Ya can either go to da Deep Forest, which is Norff of dem High Cliffs to da East, and get me five o' these here Turtleshells...or..." She gestured back to the camp. "You can go sneak into dat dumbass Bogaht's tent, over near da biggest firepit on da souff side o' da camp, an' bring me his gold pouch!" She sniffed. "And it better not be empty when ya bring it back!"
New Optional Quests are Available:
Quest Giver: Head Hunter Shamar Quest Details: Choose ONE:
Go to the Deep Forest, and gather 5 Turtleshell Mushrooms
Sneak into Bogaht's tent and retrieve his gold pouch without getting caught
As she watched Agar mull over his options, Shamar crossed her arms and idly twirled her tanning knife between her fingers.
"Ya betta choose quick, Runt. Da Deep Forest is at least an hour's walk from camp, and it's already noon--an' trust me, ya don't wanna be out after dark at your size. But, Bogaht usually takes a long nap right after lunch, so if ya wanna grab his stuff while he's outta his tent then ya better skedaddle over there..."
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