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"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.
4 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
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5 days ago
That bot left a number and email. Someone should cast "Unending Newsletters" for them.
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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
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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.
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2 mos ago
@ColdAtlus: Cheems.
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Bio
On CST time, United States. Typically busy most of the week and do most posting/replying on weekends.
Lol okay maybe not superpower gods as your starting demon, I was thinking something a little weak. Perhaps I should boil the list down to more weaker demons for you guys to pick from.
Since the SMT Wiki lists the statblocks from various games under each demon's entry, what if you limited the available demons to ones that have entries under a certain level? For instance, maybe we're limited to Demons at Level 5 and under to start with, or Demons at a minimum of Level 3, max of Level 10, something like that? That'd probably open up all your usual starters like Pixie, Slime, Kobold, etc.
Okay so Primal Rage apparently had some kind of intimidation effect? It didn't last long... Analytical Dalton rubbed his metaphysical chin.
Don't check the status box! We don't know if she can see it too, it might give away our weakness! blurted out Emotional Dalton. The real Dalton twitched his finger a few times, until he found that swiping it to the right dismissed the glowing screen.
"Just what ARE you? You smell like a Merrick, but you should have pelts based on the size of you. I already had three when I was half your size."
She wore several pelts sewn together and he'd already seen the wolf transformation. So a "Merrick" was a creature that could use animal hides to shapeshift? He racked his brain for various fantasy creatures--werewolves, Norse berserkers, and a few witches in folklore were supposed to be able to become animals by using a magical belt or cloak made from fur, but he wasn't sure he knew of any that could use more than one pelt at a time.
Buy time to think by repeating back what she said. Right, that was something he'd learned both from self-help books and from working in customer service. But--
Remember, no more Mr. Nice Guy! We play by OUR rules now! She already thinks we're a wimp! That still smoldering anger in his guts was stoked again. Maybe it was wrong to take it out on this girl--but then again, she was about to attack him before, wasn't she? She hadn't even attempted to talk until he'd forced her to rethink the aggressive tactic!
So Dalton shrugged as he gave the girl a smug smirk.
"Oh, wow--by the time you were half my size you only had three pelts? Well, I suppose that's understandable..." But Inara countered by pointing out his near-naked state. Dalton crossed his arms, maintaining his fake arrogant countenance while his eyes roamed the pelts she'd used to make her outfit--the outermost cloak seemed to be her wolf fur, but what animals had been used to make the rest?
"If that's all you have on you, you should have died three times over. Especially if you've been living here in the Penrithe Forest! This is Silverclaw territory, and we're known for being the strongest pack!"
Good. One thing Dalton had learned in his attempts to be less socially awkward was that he actually didn't have to talk much more than he usually did. He just had to be better at listening. People loved to talk about themselves, and with all her bragging about her clan, Inara was giving him good information about the area. And the whole time she spoke, his fast-thinking brain was working overtime to process and counter that information.
So this place is dangerous by this world's standards, and her pack is its ruling faction or at least one of such. His analytical side pushed their glasses up yet again. Why did anime characters do that so much? Yet, she was affected by our Primal Rage's apparent intimidation affect, even if for only a short time...that's the skill that the voice told us was "Legendary," correct?
Yeah! So what if we don't have pelts, we have badass skills!
"...And yet, you're the one who got scared?" Dalton chuckled as he uncrossed his arms, placing one hand on his hip and loosely gesticulating with the other. "What, are you the Silverclaw's Omega or something?" He tried his best to put on a confident grin and clenched his fist. "Or, maybe...I'm just that strong?" Then he shook his head dismissively. But, on the inside he could feel panic raising the pulse of his heartbeat. Could she hear something like that? Or sense weakness, somehow? How would she read his body language?
She was moving into an aggressive stance again. Whatever intimidation effect Primal Rage had, it was wearing off--was it always that short in duration? For a Legendary Skill that didn't seem right. So...if she had to metaphysically pass some kind of Saving Throw to resist it, that would probably mean her stats were higher than his, right? In reality, he was the weaker one here--
But does she know that? A rapid heart beat could mean excitement or anger too. Trembling in the limbs could be tension and anticipation of bloodlust, not just fear. If the animal kingdom was all about displays, then he needed to display dominance!
"I'm not wearing any pelts, because I didn't need any." He furrowed his eyebrows, wrinkled his nose, and changed his expression from one of smugness to one that he hoped screamed make my day, punk, as he faced Inara head on. "You already saw it yourself--all I needed to throw you off was my own Skill. And I've got more where that came from."
He gestured out towards the forest around them.
"You said the Penrithe Forest is dangerous? That the Silverclaws are the strongest? Good!" He suddenly smiled. His mother, rest her soul, had often told him something whenever he had trouble with aggressive people in life. She had always said, Just smile, and make them wonder what you're thinking about. Of course, she meant it in a non threatening way--be nice to people, even when they're rude to you, and throw them off because they're not getting the reactions they want. He still hadn't understood that until much later in life.
But now, in this new life, he would use it in another way. He wouldn't live under anyone else's rules--if people weren't going to treat him with decency, then he was going to treat them the way they deserved to be treated!
So he smiled. A wild, madman's smile. A malicious grin.
"That's why I came here! I wanted to find worthy prey! If it doesn't have a chance to kill me, then its skin isn't worth wearing!" He actually felt like he was hyping himself up now, and starting to genuinely feel excited.
Whoa there bud can we not volunteer to get ourselves killed here?!
I am in agreement! We're veering a little into the overdramatic, yes?
Shaddap and let me cook!
Dalton stared straight at Inara's forehead. He'd read once that when two dogs were about to fight, the one who looked away first would be acknowledged as the weaker. He'd also read that when humans looked each other in the eyes, there were a lot of subtle cues that could be picked up on. But, by staring at someone's forehead instead of their actual eyes, it created the appearance of eye contact. He didn't have to worry about Inara's cues triggering fear in him or making him lose his focus--and as a result, the only cue she'd read from him was a contrasting, intense focus, like a laser sight from a sniper rifle being placed directly between her eyes, unwavering and constant.
"I saw you coming a mile away." he said in a voice that he tried to make low and growly. He was referring to how his [Combat Sense] had detected her, even though he'd literally only learned that himself in the same moment. "So I decided I'd offer to let you help me, since I'm not here to invade the Silverclaw's territory. I don't care who rules the area--I'm just doing my own thing. Surely, if they're so great, they won't care about one guy keeping to himself, huh?" He snorted by blowing air through his nose, then--at a risk, but knowing he had to take those in this new life if he wanted to get anywhere--he released the tension in his stance. Instead of crouching with fingers curled into claws, he stood up, and let his arms hang in a relaxed gesture.
Once again, he put out his hand--as if he were asking a dog to perform the "shake" command. He allowed his facial expression to soften towards Inara.
"So, what do you say? Show me around a bit--local watering hole, maybe a good hunting ground? No harm, no foul?"
If this doesn't work, we're gonna die again. His intellectual side sighed.
One step at a time. All we have to do right now is make her non aggressive. We can't waste time worrying about what might happen next until we get there!
Godspeed, you magnificent bastard. His more emotional self bid them all a farewell salute.
Potentially interested! I have a few questions, though:
Since you mentioned Jojo, is the implication meant to be that our Summoned Demon is sort of "one of a kind" like a Stand or a Persona? Or will we negotiate with other Demons to build a multi-person party, and if so does the Player control their subordinates as well as their own character?
Does anything keep the players from leaving the city, like a barrier of some kind? Is this sudden invasion of Demons something that only happens in the given location, or is the whole world suddenly plunged into an apocalyptic scenario of some kind? If it's the former, will this play out similarly to the Devil Survivor games?
@ERode As Esfir left the cave, she would find that the other Runts had either retreated, or simply split apart from the group. She was now, it seemed, alone in the valley. To the west, she could see the slopes still rising up to the waterfall where the paths grew rockier and more winding. Back east, and then down the southern edge of the mountain range, would be back the way she and the others had come. Straight ahead and across the narrow, shallow stream--which would be north--the other side of this ancient watershed pathway ended in a straight rock wall, which rose for many feet before the first cracked ledges appeared.
If she dared, she might climb further up and see if the area around the waterfall's pool bore any new discoveries. Climbing the smoother, more sheer northern wall would probably require tools she didn't have at the moment, like a pickaxe or rope, but if she went east back to the treeline and then continued north there might be another path up into the mountains proper.
Or, she could return to the forest for another, likely easier hunt. No matter what way she went, she still needed to find intact prey to bring back to the camp...
"Ooooi!" A deep, gravelly voice suddenly rang out from further up the slope. Following the line of the waterfall upward, and then to one side, a large shape appeared to lean over one of the stony shelves. "You, Runt! Stay right there!"
An axe, not made of stone but metal, was wedged in between two rocks before its handler began to descend the cliffside. A second tool was used the same way, before his big green foot found a proper place to stand so he could wrench the first axe out and repeat the process. Soon there was a heavy thump, and with much longer strides than her own the heavy figure came jogging down towards Esfir.
This was an Adult Orc that Esfir didn't know personally, but from his size alone she'd be able to deduce he was one of the "variant" types of the species scattered in smaller numbers throughout the camp's population. Known as "Brutes," these Orcs had either been genetically gifted with great size or had somehow managed to acquire such mass through copious amounts of food, body-enhancing Skills, and other methods. They were among the most respected of the tribe's warriors, and the first pick for any raiding party.
As he approached Esfir, hooking his axes through a broad strap of leather around his gut, he towered over the Runt at six feet and a handful of inches in height and what had to be over three hundred pounds. He looked down at the runt with one thin brow raised and a half-scowl on his cracked lips.
"Wot's a liddl'un loik you doin' all dis way out?" He glanced back at the cave, and seemed to take note of the scorch marks and scattered rubble left in the wake of the explosion the others caused. "...Is you wot's made dat camazot scream, a minnit back? If'n yo're on da hunt, ya've dun scared away anyting ya coulda caught!" He turned his gaze skyward for a moment, looking at a particular spot further up the mountain. If Esfir squinted, she might be able to make out some dark areas that looked small and vague in the distance. Was it just the shadow of the rocks? Or were there more caves, further up? In any case, the Brute sniffed the air, then grunted something under his breath before returning his attention to Esfir. "M'name's Koughat. Who're you?"
While Svarok gathered some of the more useful looking stones and a handful of the berries, Carmina experimented with the strange tree she'd found, hacking into a few of the lower branches. Her Sharp Stone was suitable for cutting off smaller sticks, which hadn't even blossomed any foliage yet, while the Stone Hatchet she'd just acquired from the Goblin allowed her to get a few decently sized branches off the trunk.
And as soon as she'd wrenched the fresh wood away from its parent tree, she could see the oozing stumps start to change in color. As she popped one of the fresh twigs into her mouth and chewed--crunching through the wood and fibrous insides with great difficulty--she saw the tree's off-white inner wood darken to gray. As she finally managed to pulp the wood between her teeth, the chopped ends of her harvested branches did the same, and the wounds in the original trunk oozed a dark-colored, oily sap. And once she'd swallowed the pulpy mouthful, there was a low, ever so slight crackling noise as the sap on the Stonewood tree hardened like a scab. It too, began to rapidly turn gray and dry until it matched the petrified growths she had seen on the other tree.
Carmina started to cough as something stuck to the inside of her throat. It didn't clear, and her ribcage instinctively heaved as the coughing intensified. She couldn't swallow. Her throat felt painfully dry. She couldn't get air into her windpipe either. There was something scratchy stuck at the back of her tongue--
She finally hacked out a small, crusty, gristle-hard gray lump. As if she'd swallowed a pebble.
The branches she had chopped off were still somewhat flexible, woody, and had a wet heaviness to them like fresh wood tended to. Only the ends where she'd cut them from the tree had the hardened sap scabs--although, in the case of the smaller twigs, they were starting to feel a little less springy by the second.
The two Runts headed back to the place Carmina indicated, where unbeknownst to them four others of their kind had shared the spoils of their first hunt in much the same way Svarok and Carmina planned. Within a few moments, red-hot coals at the very bottom of the charcoal pile were discovered, and from these and a few handfuls of grass, leaves, and dead wood that could easily be harvested around the area the orclings soon had a fire of their own started. The smoky spiral soon rose into the sky above them--and it carried a slight hint of barbeque? Maybe it was left over from whoever had cooked something here before.
Lightly Tainted Goblin has been disassembled! Lightly Tainted Goblin has been disassembled! Some items have been damaged or are unusable. Useful Items Obtained: Goblin Ear x4 Goblin Fang x3 Cracked Goblin Fang x3 Goblin Tibia x4 Goblin Femur x2 Cracked Goblin Femur x2 Goblin Humerus x3 Broken Goblin Humerus > Bone Shards x5 Goblin Rib x8 Cracked Goblin Rib x1 Goblin Head x2 Small Bones x3 Goblin Liver x1 Tainted Goblin Liver x1 Goblin Heart x2 Lightly Tainted Goblin Meat x53lbs (Goblin A: 61 lbs pre-disassembly; Goblin B: 59 lbs pre-disassembly)
Consumed: Stone Slime Gel Consumed: Cracked Stone Slime Flakes
Current Ingestion: Stone Slime - 50% > 85% Ingestible Skills [Geo Slime]:
[Blunt Damage Resistance]
[Danger Scan]
[Stone Shot]
[Tough]
[Camoflauge: Rock]
Skill Gained: Tough - Rank 1 - Increase defenses for a short time by tightening the body, and resist flinching or being knocked back by strong impacts. Movement is slightly slowed while this Skill is active. Consumes Stamina.
You have filled all Skill Slots!
...
Victory! Loot Obtained: Punctured Slime x1
Consumed: Slime Membrane Consumed: Slime Gel
Activate [Ingestion: Slime] (>Y/N)? Approximate Ingestion: 0 > 100%. This will ERASE previous Ingestion Progress [Stone Slime]. Current Ingestion: Stone Slime - 85% No Ingestible Skills remaining [Stone Slime]. Ingestible Skills [Slime]:
[Blunt Damage Resistance]
[Danger Scan]
[Scavenge]
You are Bloated. You cannot eat any more food until bloating has decreased. Rate of weight gain has increased. Stamina Consumption has temporarily increased.
You are Tired; your stamina is low and your body needs rest. Stamina Recovery has temporarily decreased.
Given all of his activity and that he'd eaten three different monsters over the course of the day, Grunthor would soon feel like a cartoon character being followed around by a tuba player. A long sit down, maybe even a nap, would be warranted as well. Nonetheless the Runt pushed onward after defeating the slime he'd stumbled upon while making his way back from the Northern Caves. He re-entered the forest, perhaps taking note of Akeno using her magic on new prey of her own, or maybe noticing a thin curl of smoke coming from the place where he and the others had feasted on their spicy chickens.
It didn't take long to find a few tracks and a tuft of fur caught on a briar patch. But, when he found yet another prey, it seemed something else had beaten him to it.
The beast stood as tall or taller than an Orc Runt at its shoulder, and was easily three times heavier. A broad chest and powerful forelimbs rippled with muscle beneath not only thick fur, but hard, fleshy armor akin to that of an armadillo. Gripped in its fanged jaws, a Jackalope bled out the last of its life as bone and cartilage snapped and popped.
Even an adult orc wouldn't dare to hunt one of these beasts alone; the foggy memories of pre-awakening in the Brood Pit brought flashbacks of hearing the horror stories, or hearing particularly adept hunters brag about a scar they'd gotten tangling with such a beast. Grunthor made the smart decision to get the hell out of dodge as quietly and quickly as possible...
But the Wompus Cat watched him go with green eyes that glimmered in the shadows of the trees. It slowed its chewing for a moment...then went back to its meal with a low, undulating growl...
Soon after, Grunthor returned to the camp but was roughly denied entry. However, in lieu of going back into the forest alone, it seemed an opportunity had arisen...
"I have no way of killing that thing, nor if there were a dozen of us little Runts. But having a second set of eyes doesn't hurt since I need to get another kill, which if I get I will hunt something with you and you can claim the whole thing for yourself." Grunthor replied before holding his hand out for a shake.
The darker Runt simply looked at his outstretched hand, then wagged one finger while smirking.
"Ah, but I already got my kill for the day! And I wouldn't exactly need your help to hunt something just for the sake of a meal, like a Dire Rat or Slime, yeah? So, how's about this, my grumbly friend?" The greasy-haired Runt threw his arm around Grunthor's shoulder and turned him towards the south, before gesturing towards the distant rocky slopes. "I happen to have heard, by exhausting the NPC dialogue around here," at this, he glanced side-eye at the guards, who were pointedly ignoring the two 'children', then continued, "that three out of the hundred-something lumbering idiots in this tribe recently went missing! Supposedly, in a cave one of them claimed he found down that-a-way!" Breaking away from Grunthor, he rubbed his hands together as those orange eyes glittered.
"So, if you come with me to the cave, we're sure to encounter something along the way--or hell, maybe inside! And, if we find the three lost orcs dead, we can take their stuff and split it down the middle! Or, if we find them alive...maybe we still take their stuff! You know how these games work, I'm sure! The Quest only says I gotta find out what happened to 'em! Doesn't say anything about them coming back!"
An Optional Quest is now Available! Quest: Three Lost Orcs Supposedly, three Orcs went missing in a Cave to the South of the Camp. It's suspected they might already be dead. Find the Cave and Investigate, then Report Back to any VIP within the camp (Warchief, Head Warrior, Etc).
Discover the South Cave
Find the Three Orcs or any Remains
Investigate
Would you like to join [???]'s Party?
@King Cosmos As the fire bolt hurtled through the air, the Tatzelwurm's eyes fluttered open an instant before impact. Then its underbelly, as well as a few leaves and pieces of bark, caught alight with a fwoosh! The creature screeched and dove off the branch, its hide still smoking as it hit the ground and rolled, scattering dirt this way and that with its claws and lashing tail!
Though its body would soon be spared the searing heat, now it was on a level playing field with Akeno! She had a mere instant before the creature had its bearings back--could one of her weapons, or another fire bolt, end the conflict before it had a chance to fight her?
Warning! Your MP is Low.
If she was going to use her spell again, she could feel in her gut she'd need to make it count...
To learn magic, you must visit the mystic cave of mirrors, traverse the minotaur's lanyrinth inside, find the sacred moth viillage and eat the silver coconut.
ur gonna feel real dumb when I just hold out my hand and think about it really hard
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