*Arch, Yvonne, my beautiful writing compatriots... my beloved siblings... I've been dead for much too long...*
*Cozy steampunk dark fantasy. Imagine Howl's Moving Castle meets Fried Green Tomatoes. What should the magic system be about?*
*Yes, the ritual worked! Welcome back to the living realm, brother!*
*On a more serious note, I could easily see a sort of 'magi-tech' system working well with the setting, where magic is most often channeled through fabrications of metal and electricity that combine the arcane with the industrial. Though, that's just a rough idea. What say you?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Arch, Yvonne, my beautiful writing compatriots... my beloved siblings... I've been dead for much too long...*
*Cozy steampunk dark fantasy. Imagine Howl's Moving Castle meets Fried Green Tomatoes. What should the magic system be about?*
promises
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
He heads over to the kitchen, grabbing a gallon bucket.
He shrugs "I guess like anything?"
She screeches in pain, her hands turning into claws.
"Whatcha need that for?"
"Alright. Lemme get my measuring tape." She begins rummaging amid her toolbox.
Riotan moves to above her, holding her arms down and continuing the chant.
"Fish." He shrugs and hauls it outside.
He holds Clover in his hands like a burger.
She thrashes violently, baring sharp teeth as he body turns monstrous.
"What kind?"
She eventually retrieves the implement and begins measuring Clover carefully. "Make sure not to pinch her while you're holding her, alright?"
After a few more agonizing moments (16 psychic damage), the pain stops, and you're just left with a horrid nausea and pounding headache. "Good, first part seems to have worked." Rio remarks.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Arch, Yvonne, my beautiful writing compatriots... my beloved siblings... I've been dead for much too long...*
*Cozy steampunk dark fantasy. Imagine Howl's Moving Castle meets Fried Green Tomatoes. What should the magic system be about?*
*hm… I have to resist saying the power of friendship…*
*alright, hear me out, not too sure how good this idea is, but basically, there is this substance, the source of all magic, which is created when (insert something here, related to humans or emotions or something) and it’s made in very, very small amounts to the point it’s practically invisible. But it can, with certain machines, be collected and condensed into a useable, liquid form.*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
He heads over to the kitchen, grabbing a gallon bucket.
He shrugs "I guess like anything?"
She screeches in pain, her hands turning into claws.
"Whatcha need that for?"
"Alright. Lemme get my measuring tape." She begins rummaging amid her toolbox.
Riotan moves to above her, holding her arms down and continuing the chant.
"Fish." He shrugs and hauls it outside.
He holds Clover in his hands like a burger.
She thrashes violently, baring sharp teeth as he body turns monstrous.
"What kind?"
She eventually retrieves the implement and begins measuring Clover carefully. "Make sure not to pinch her while you're holding her, alright?"
After a few more agonizing moments (14 psychic damage), the pain stops, and you're just left with a horrid nausea and pounding headache. "Good, first part seems to have worked." Rio remarks.
He chuckles "The kind I'm studying." He said.
"I know I know, I know how to hold cats!"
Suddenly, she is off like a bolt into the woods. Her form is watery, like it is unable to be held together by reality.
“I know this dream of life is never ending. It goes round, and round, and round again… I know the sun will rise while descending, it goes on, and on, and never ends…”
a girl sits on the roof of the tavern. She stares blankly into the sky, her porcelain, ‘skin,’ shiny and white under the sun. She’s barely four and a half feet tall, with a veil covering her fake face. Her hands by her sides, you can see the joints and the wood beneath her skin. Her cheeks are painted rosy, her eyes a vibrant yellow. She wears a black dress, as if she were attending a funeral. She doesn’t breathe, but moves as if she were. By her side is a black umbrella. She sings the same little melody to herself, over and over, and over.
introducing Mary-Anne Beckett, the sin of Gluttony.
Omori is also sitting on the roof, pausing upon hearing her song. After a long while, the little shadow can be faintly heard humming to the tune.
“It goes on, and on, and never ends…” she sings. She turns her head to Omori, and lets out a little, unnatural chuckle. “Ha-Ha. Hello.”
She turns to face Mary-Anne as well, a small, sharp-toothed smile on her face. "Hello." She responds, waving to her.
She waves back at Omori. “Nice to meet you! Did you like my song?”
"Nice to meet ya too!" She replies. "It's a very beautiful song. Almost reminded me of something, but that's beside the point."
“Oh, what did it remind you of? What did It make you feel?” She says, curious.
She thinks for a moment, finding the words. "...Nostalgia, I think. A bit of... longing, too? For what, I don't know."
“How interesting… i don’t think I know what those things feel like anymore.”
"Really?" She asks, seeming curious. "If I may ask, what happened?"
“Well, I haven’t been able to feel much of anything, only the absences of something. I could, a long time ago… but not anymore.”
Omi is tending to a sick spruce on the outskirts of his domain
Saphuno is babysitting Lurei, Reese's son.
A muffled scream can be heard occasionally from the basement of the tavern.
Eito moves beside him silently to help.
Malafasa is flying overhead.
Mauric goes to investigate.
"What's wrong, little guy?..." he asks, frowning.
The pup plays with sticks and sand gleefully
In the corner, hidden behind ale barrels is the source of the sceaming
*i'm so sorry i missed this*
"Nothing. I simply saw no need to speak when silence sufficed."
Mala circles a little lower, now focusing her powerful vision on Saphuno.
Mauric takes out his glaive and slowly heads closer.
"Not you, friend. the plant..."
She brings the child closer, shielding him.
"Help me, p-please..." she wails out.
"Oh, I see."
Malafasa swoops down and lands in front of them, already visibly agitated. "No need to act like I'm some monster that'd just grab your kid and fly off, you know?"
*desc?* Mauric approaches slowly, lowering the weapon but not dropping it. "O-oh God... what happened?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
“I know this dream of life is never ending. It goes round, and round, and round again… I know the sun will rise while descending, it goes on, and on, and never ends…”
a girl sits on the roof of the tavern. She stares blankly into the sky, her porcelain, ‘skin,’ shiny and white under the sun. She’s barely four and a half feet tall, with a veil covering her fake face. Her hands by her sides, you can see the joints and the wood beneath her skin. Her cheeks are painted rosy, her eyes a vibrant yellow. She wears a black dress, as if she were attending a funeral. She doesn’t breathe, but moves as if she were. By her side is a black umbrella. She sings the same little melody to herself, over and over, and over.
introducing Mary-Anne Beckett, the sin of Gluttony.
Omori is also sitting on the roof, pausing upon hearing her song. After a long while, the little shadow can be faintly heard humming to the tune.
“It goes on, and on, and never ends…” she sings. She turns her head to Omori, and lets out a little, unnatural chuckle. “Ha-Ha. Hello.”
She turns to face Mary-Anne as well, a small, sharp-toothed smile on her face. "Hello." She responds, waving to her.
She waves back at Omori. “Nice to meet you! Did you like my song?”
"Nice to meet ya too!" She replies. "It's a very beautiful song. Almost reminded me of something, but that's beside the point."
“Oh, what did it remind you of? What did It make you feel?” She says, curious.
She thinks for a moment, finding the words. "...Nostalgia, I think. A bit of... longing, too? For what, I don't know."
“How interesting… i don’t think I know what those things feel like anymore.”
"Really?" She asks, seeming curious. "If I may ask, what happened?"
“Well, I haven’t been able to feel much of anything, only the absences of something. I could, a long time ago… but not anymore.”
"I see... I think that's similar to someone I used to know... but again, that's beside the point." She says, dismissing the thought. "I'm Omori. What's your name?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
“I know this dream of life is never ending. It goes round, and round, and round again… I know the sun will rise while descending, it goes on, and on, and never ends…”
a girl sits on the roof of the tavern. She stares blankly into the sky, her porcelain, ‘skin,’ shiny and white under the sun. She’s barely four and a half feet tall, with a veil covering her fake face. Her hands by her sides, you can see the joints and the wood beneath her skin. Her cheeks are painted rosy, her eyes a vibrant yellow. She wears a black dress, as if she were attending a funeral. She doesn’t breathe, but moves as if she were. By her side is a black umbrella. She sings the same little melody to herself, over and over, and over.
introducing Mary-Anne Beckett, the sin of Gluttony.
Omori is also sitting on the roof, pausing upon hearing her song. After a long while, the little shadow can be faintly heard humming to the tune.
“It goes on, and on, and never ends…” she sings. She turns her head to Omori, and lets out a little, unnatural chuckle. “Ha-Ha. Hello.”
She turns to face Mary-Anne as well, a small, sharp-toothed smile on her face. "Hello." She responds, waving to her.
She waves back at Omori. “Nice to meet you! Did you like my song?”
"Nice to meet ya too!" She replies. "It's a very beautiful song. Almost reminded me of something, but that's beside the point."
“Oh, what did it remind you of? What did It make you feel?” She says, curious.
She thinks for a moment, finding the words. "...Nostalgia, I think. A bit of... longing, too? For what, I don't know."
“How interesting… i don’t think I know what those things feel like anymore.”
"Really?" She asks, seeming curious. "If I may ask, what happened?"
“Well, I haven’t been able to feel much of anything, only the absences of something. I could, a long time ago… but not anymore.”
"I see... I think that's similar to someone I used to know... but again, that's beside the point." She says, dismissing the thought. "I'm Omori. What's your name?"
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
He heads over to the kitchen, grabbing a gallon bucket.
He shrugs "I guess like anything?"
She screeches in pain, her hands turning into claws.
"Whatcha need that for?"
"Alright. Lemme get my measuring tape." She begins rummaging amid her toolbox.
Riotan moves to above her, holding her arms down and continuing the chant.
"Fish." He shrugs and hauls it outside.
He holds Clover in his hands like a burger.
She thrashes violently, baring sharp teeth as he body turns monstrous.
"What kind?"
She eventually retrieves the implement and begins measuring Clover carefully. "Make sure not to pinch her while you're holding her, alright?"
After a few more agonizing moments (14 psychic damage), the pain stops, and you're just left with a horrid nausea and pounding headache. "Good, first part seems to have worked." Rio remarks.
He chuckles "The kind I'm studying." He said.
"I know I know, I know how to hold cats!"
Suddenly, she is off like a bolt into the woods. Her form is watery, like it is unable to be held together by reality.
"And what kinds are those?"
"Okay, okay..." She takes the measurements and puts the tape away. "Shouldn't be too hard as long as I can get all the contours right..."
"Stroth! Get back here!" He starts chasing after her as fast as possible, which is pretty dang fast. "It won't work if you hold it up too long between stages!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Arch, Yvonne, my beautiful writing compatriots... my beloved siblings... I've been dead for much too long...*
*Cozy steampunk dark fantasy. Imagine Howl's Moving Castle meets Fried Green Tomatoes. What should the magic system be about?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Yes, the ritual worked! Welcome back to the living realm, brother!*
*On a more serious note, I could easily see a sort of 'magi-tech' system working well with the setting, where magic is most often channeled through fabrications of metal and electricity that combine the arcane with the industrial. Though, that's just a rough idea. What say you?*
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
hi
promises
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
"What kind?"
She eventually retrieves the implement and begins measuring Clover carefully. "Make sure not to pinch her while you're holding her, alright?"
After a few more agonizing moments (16 psychic damage), the pain stops, and you're just left with a horrid nausea and pounding headache. "Good, first part seems to have worked." Rio remarks.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*hm… I have to resist saying the power of friendship…*
*alright, hear me out, not too sure how good this idea is, but basically, there is this substance, the source of all magic, which is created when (insert something here, related to humans or emotions or something) and it’s made in very, very small amounts to the point it’s practically invisible. But it can, with certain machines, be collected and condensed into a useable, liquid form.*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
He chuckles "The kind I'm studying." He said.
"I know I know, I know how to hold cats!"
Suddenly, she is off like a bolt into the woods. Her form is watery, like it is unable to be held together by reality.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
“Well, I haven’t been able to feel much of anything, only the absences of something. I could, a long time ago… but not anymore.”
*I kinda got James down into a stat block.
https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/140260084/yQP1Kv
A rogue who pretends to serve others so he and his wife may have a better life.*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*shh, we aren’t supposed to let them know that!*
"Oh, I see."
Malafasa swoops down and lands in front of them, already visibly agitated. "No need to act like I'm some monster that'd just grab your kid and fly off, you know?"
*desc?* Mauric approaches slowly, lowering the weapon but not dropping it. "O-oh God... what happened?"
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"I see... I think that's similar to someone I used to know... but again, that's beside the point." She says, dismissing the thought. "I'm Omori. What's your name?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
”Mary-Anne Beckett. Nice to meet you!”
*hi*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*gtg*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
"And what kinds are those?"
"Okay, okay..." She takes the measurements and puts the tape away. "Shouldn't be too hard as long as I can get all the contours right..."
"Stroth! Get back here!" He starts chasing after her as fast as possible, which is pretty dang fast. "It won't work if you hold it up too long between stages!"
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*ooh, nice*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.