*That sounds like you don’t want to pick, I’m fine with picking if you want.*
*It's more like I don't know who I want to use to interact lol*
*Are you feeling a particular type of character right now? Cool guys, sad guys, scientist guys, crazy people?*
*I have a fleshy abomination that is basically a zombie juggernaut, a Darklord, five wizards, an arcane teacher, a wolfboy, two Tielfings, seven elves and much more.*
*Hmm, that’s a lot of characters honestly, I don’t know if I can help you there, other than advising you to narrow it down slowly, one by one based on who you want to interact with.*
*Idk TBH, I have a lot of characters and honestly, I produce them at such a high rate some of them just aren't fun anymore or I'm like, man that a horrible concept..*
*That eliminates a few of them at least. If I could pick any of them I want, I’d have to say Ichigo or the flesh abomination, just to see how they would deal with Thane, maybe Stroth to deal with another assassin from the Valentine sisters.*
Rowan has a strange dream, one that the Mask can choose to join in on. They are in a hotel with yellow wallpaper, standing at the entrance with all their usual equipment. A withered, barren-looking eladrin sits at the bar nearby, the only other being here. He looks at Rowan (and possibly the Mask's mental image of itself put into the dream world) and says something, his voice muffled to the point of indecipherability.
The Mask takes the form of a faceless white entity wearing a simple black three piece suit, Rowan wearing simple clothes. The Mask leans against one of the walls calmly as Rowan looks around confused “What is going on, where are we?”
The eladrin speaks again, slightly clearer this time. "You're lost. That's how it works. The one who caught you is hiding somewhere in the hotel."
The Mask simply chuckles, shaking their head. Rowan begins to panic even farther “My life was just getting good, now I’m kidnapped by some kind of hotel owner, what am I even supposed to do!”
The eladrin speaks again, slightly clearer this time. "You're lost. That's how it works. The one who caught you is hiding somewhere in the hotel."
The Mask simply chuckles, shaking their head. Rowan begins to panic even farther “My life was just getting good, now I’m kidnapped by some kind of hotel owner, what am I even supposed to do!”
"Quiet down. He hates loud noises. Besides, you're not actually here. At least, not physically. You get injured, it's going to hurt plenty." He suddenly turns his head to look down a hall. "I suggest you start looking before he does."
The eladrin speaks again, slightly clearer this time. "You're lost. That's how it works. The one who caught you is hiding somewhere in the hotel."
The Mask simply chuckles, shaking their head. Rowan begins to panic even farther “My life was just getting good, now I’m kidnapped by some kind of hotel owner, what am I even supposed to do!”
"Quiet down. He hates loud noises. Besides, you're not actually here. At least, not physically. You get injured, it's going to hurt plenty." He suddenly turns his head to look down a hall. "I suggest you start looking before he does."
Rowan just holds his head for a moment, trying to calm himself down slowly and carefully. He gets himself calm before walking out to the hall, beginning to look for anything they could possibly find, some kind of way out. The Mask doesn’t move, looking to the Eladrin with eyes that don’t exist.
"Quiet down. He hates loud noises. Besides, you're not actually here. At least, not physically. You get injured, it's going to hurt plenty." He suddenly turns his head to look down a hall. "I suggest you start looking before he does."
Rowan just holds his head for a moment, trying to calm himself down slowly and carefully. He gets himself calm before walking out to the hall, beginning to look for anything they could possibly find, some kind of way out. The Mask doesn’t move, looking to the Eladrin with eyes that don’t exist.
Rowan finds a door with a strange box on the wall beside it. A fisheye lens on the box shows footage of what looks to be an abandoned tavern with a mechanical jester standing in the dripping, rotting wreckage. A fire burns inside the machine as it looks around.
The desolate Eldadrin looks over. "What do you want?"
"Quiet down. He hates loud noises. Besides, you're not actually here. At least, not physically. You get injured, it's going to hurt plenty." He suddenly turns his head to look down a hall. "I suggest you start looking before he does."
Rowan just holds his head for a moment, trying to calm himself down slowly and carefully. He gets himself calm before walking out to the hall, beginning to look for anything they could possibly find, some kind of way out. The Mask doesn’t move, looking to the Eladrin with eyes that don’t exist.
Rowan finds a door with a strange box on the wall beside it. A fisheye lens on the box shows footage of what looks to be an abandoned tavern with a mechanical jester standing in the dripping, rotting wreckage. A fire burns inside the machine as it looks around.
The desolate Eldadrin looks over. "What do you want?"
He looks to the mechanical jester, looking for any way to open the box, or maybe even open the door in some way. He does his best to take time, despite how stress out he is, not wanting to die when his life is just getting the best it has been.
The Mask tilts its head, flexing its fingers. Eventually it speaks, the pure facelessness changing, a mouth tearing its way into existence, their voice silk smooth and charismatic “I want to know what you know.”
She hears crackling flames and creaking metal as she is suddenly aware that she isn't the only one in the building.
She stands up, looking around for the source of the sound, turning invisible as she does.
She finds a mechanical otyugh made of ornately filigreed steel and filled with flames. It moves around, tapping things with its tentacles. A speaker crackles on. A breathless, rasping voice. "I used to dream all the time... of things hiding in the dark, waiting to pounce. But I ate those dreams long ago. I never thought I'd hear you again, whatever you are."
Traitor is sitting at where that abandoned house from a few scenes ago was- simply chilling amidst the desolation she caused.
KK has thrown away several different designs for what her new form would look like, and is currently designing more.
Cerberus wanders by and picks one up that fell to the floor.
The design seems to depict a monstrous figure that's only vaguely reminiscent of a humanoid creature. The one detail that catches their eye the most, though, is the prevalence of many, many arms and hands.
KK doesn't immediately notice them, absorbed in her work.
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)
He looks to the mechanical jester, looking for any way to open the box, or maybe even open the door in some way. He does his best to take time, despite how stress out he is, not wanting to die when his life is just getting the best it has been.
The Mask tilts its head, flexing its fingers. Eventually it speaks, the pure facelessness changing, a mouth tearing its way into existence, their voice silk smooth and charismatic “I want to know what you know.”
The box opens, revealing the internals. There are multiple switches and dials, controls for the door and the surveillance system. However, as the rusted case opens, the jester on the screen turns to look at the viewer. "What was that sound? Rowan? Was that you?"
The man just shrugs. "Even I don't know that anymore. Nothing here works like it should."
She hears crackling flames and creaking metal as she is suddenly aware that she isn't the only one in the building.
She stands up, looking around for the source of the sound, turning invisible as she does.
She finds a mechanical otyugh made of ornately filigreed steel and filled with flames. It moves around, tapping things with its tentacles. A speaker crackles on. A breathless, rasping voice. "I used to dream all the time... of things hiding in the dark, waiting to pounce. But I ate those dreams long ago. I never thought I'd hear you again, whatever you are."
She looks quizzically at the construct. "Fascinating. I haven't had dreams much either as of late- well, not dreams in the sleeping sense, anyway. I still have goals I aspire for."
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)
He looks to the mechanical jester, looking for any way to open the box, or maybe even open the door in some way. He does his best to take time, despite how stress out he is, not wanting to die when his life is just getting the best it has been.
The Mask tilts its head, flexing its fingers. Eventually it speaks, the pure facelessness changing, a mouth tearing its way into existence, their voice silk smooth and charismatic “I want to know what you know.”
The box opens, revealing the internals. There are multiple switches and dials, controls for the door and the surveillance system. However, as the rusted case opens, the jester on the screen turns to look at the viewer. "What was that sound? Rowan? Was that you?"
The man just shrugs. "Even I don't know that anymore. Nothing here works like it should."
He looks to the screen, surprised “How do you know who I am? Yeah that’s me.” He begins to move thins around in the box, carefully, if anything seems too important he doesn’t touch it until he has more information.
“Let’s start with something simple, what is your name, and how long have you been here?” He say, clasping their hands behind their back.
Traitor is sitting at where that abandoned house from a few scenes ago was- simply chilling amidst the desolation she caused.
KK has thrown away several different designs for what her new form would look like, and is currently designing more.
Cerberus wanders by and picks one up that fell to the floor.
The design seems to depict a monstrous figure that's only vaguely reminiscent of a humanoid creature. The one detail that catches their eye the most, though, is the prevalence of many, many arms and hands.
KK doesn't immediately notice them, absorbed in her work.
Cerberus taps her shoulder and signs 'Mind if I help?' While lifting the one he found.
She finds a mechanical otyugh made of ornately filigreed steel and filled with flames. It moves around, tapping things with its tentacles. A speaker crackles on. A breathless, rasping voice. "I used to dream all the time... of things hiding in the dark, waiting to pounce. But I ate those dreams long ago. I never thought I'd hear you again, whatever you are."
She looks quizzically at the construct. "Fascinating. I haven't had dreams much either as of late- well, not dreams in the sleeping sense, anyway. I still have goals I aspire for."
Its sensory tentacle turns to face her, revealing a trio of small fisheye screens. They seem to show a Strugel from multiple angles, none of them revealing anything but a silhouette hunched over a desk in a dark room. "I used to have aspirations too, but I was too good to keep them for long. I had too much help. Now I have an appetite for ambition and no way to sate it."
The box opens, revealing the internals. There are multiple switches and dials, controls for the door and the surveillance system. However, as the rusted case opens, the jester on the screen turns to look at the viewer. "What was that sound? Rowan? Was that you?"
The man just shrugs. "Even I don't know that anymore. Nothing here works like it should."
He looks to the screen, surprised “How do you know who I am? Yeah that’s me.” He begins to move thins around in the box, carefully, if anything seems too important he doesn’t touch it until he has more information.
“Let’s start with something simple, what is your name, and how long have you been here?” He say, clasping their hands behind their back.
"I was made in your image. I was designed to be an equal match, Jester." It walks toward the viewer, its steel comedy mask bellowing out smog. "Have you ever had a dream? One you couldn't keep, but one you loved more than anything?"
"Coldleaf. I've been here for at least 60 years, I think. Well, not here specifically. I have to move around to evade the Dreameaters."
Traitor is sitting at where that abandoned house from a few scenes ago was- simply chilling amidst the desolation she caused.
KK has thrown away several different designs for what her new form would look like, and is currently designing more.
Cerberus wanders by and picks one up that fell to the floor.
The design seems to depict a monstrous figure that's only vaguely reminiscent of a humanoid creature. The one detail that catches their eye the most, though, is the prevalence of many, many arms and hands.
KK doesn't immediately notice them, absorbed in her work.
Cerberus taps her shoulder and signs 'Mind if I help?' While lifting the one he found.
She looks over her shoulder back at Cerberus. "Oh, hello! And not at all- I'd love some help!"
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)
The box opens, revealing the internals. There are multiple switches and dials, controls for the door and the surveillance system. However, as the rusted case opens, the jester on the screen turns to look at the viewer. "What was that sound? Rowan? Was that you?"
The man just shrugs. "Even I don't know that anymore. Nothing here works like it should."
He looks to the screen, surprised “How do you know who I am? Yeah that’s me.” He begins to move thins around in the box, carefully, if anything seems too important he doesn’t touch it until he has more information.
“Let’s start with something simple, what is your name, and how long have you been here?” He say, clasping their hands behind their back.
"I was made in your image. I was designed to be an equal match, Jester." It walks toward the viewer, its steel comedy mask bellowing out smog. "Have you ever had a dream? One you couldn't keep, but one you loved more than anything?"
"Coldleaf. I've been here for at least 60 years, I think. Well, not here specifically. I have to move around to evade the Dreameaters."
He looks deeper into it, pondering the question as much as he possibly can “A dream I love more than anything but cannot keep?” He looks to the distance “I think so, I hope so. You’re a made after me?”
*gtg*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
*That eliminates a few of them at least. If I could pick any of them I want, I’d have to say Ichigo or the flesh abomination, just to see how they would deal with Thane, maybe Stroth to deal with another assassin from the Valentine sisters.*
The Mask simply chuckles, shaking their head. Rowan begins to panic even farther “My life was just getting good, now I’m kidnapped by some kind of hotel owner, what am I even supposed to do!”
"Quiet down. He hates loud noises. Besides, you're not actually here. At least, not physically. You get injured, it's going to hurt plenty." He suddenly turns his head to look down a hall. "I suggest you start looking before he does."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Good afternoon, everyone!*
Traitor is sitting at where that abandoned house from a few scenes ago was- simply chilling amidst the desolation she caused.
KK has thrown away several different designs for what her new form would look like, and is currently designing more.
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)
Rowan just holds his head for a moment, trying to calm himself down slowly and carefully. He gets himself calm before walking out to the hall, beginning to look for anything they could possibly find, some kind of way out. The Mask doesn’t move, looking to the Eladrin with eyes that don’t exist.
She hears crackling flames and creaking metal as she is suddenly aware that she isn't the only one in the building.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She stands up, looking around for the source of the sound, turning invisible as she does.
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)
Rowan finds a door with a strange box on the wall beside it. A fisheye lens on the box shows footage of what looks to be an abandoned tavern with a mechanical jester standing in the dripping, rotting wreckage. A fire burns inside the machine as it looks around.
The desolate Eldadrin looks over. "What do you want?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Cerberus wanders by and picks one up that fell to the floor.
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
He looks to the mechanical jester, looking for any way to open the box, or maybe even open the door in some way. He does his best to take time, despite how stress out he is, not wanting to die when his life is just getting the best it has been.
The Mask tilts its head, flexing its fingers. Eventually it speaks, the pure facelessness changing, a mouth tearing its way into existence, their voice silk smooth and charismatic “I want to know what you know.”
She finds a mechanical otyugh made of ornately filigreed steel and filled with flames. It moves around, tapping things with its tentacles. A speaker crackles on. A breathless, rasping voice. "I used to dream all the time... of things hiding in the dark, waiting to pounce. But I ate those dreams long ago. I never thought I'd hear you again, whatever you are."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The design seems to depict a monstrous figure that's only vaguely reminiscent of a humanoid creature. The one detail that catches their eye the most, though, is the prevalence of many, many arms and hands.
KK doesn't immediately notice them, absorbed in her work.
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)
The box opens, revealing the internals. There are multiple switches and dials, controls for the door and the surveillance system. However, as the rusted case opens, the jester on the screen turns to look at the viewer. "What was that sound? Rowan? Was that you?"
The man just shrugs. "Even I don't know that anymore. Nothing here works like it should."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She looks quizzically at the construct. "Fascinating. I haven't had dreams much either as of late- well, not dreams in the sleeping sense, anyway. I still have goals I aspire for."
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)
He looks to the screen, surprised “How do you know who I am? Yeah that’s me.” He begins to move thins around in the box, carefully, if anything seems too important he doesn’t touch it until he has more information.
“Let’s start with something simple, what is your name, and how long have you been here?” He say, clasping their hands behind their back.
Cerberus taps her shoulder and signs 'Mind if I help?' While lifting the one he found.
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
Its sensory tentacle turns to face her, revealing a trio of small fisheye screens. They seem to show a Strugel from multiple angles, none of them revealing anything but a silhouette hunched over a desk in a dark room. "I used to have aspirations too, but I was too good to keep them for long. I had too much help. Now I have an appetite for ambition and no way to sate it."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"I was made in your image. I was designed to be an equal match, Jester." It walks toward the viewer, its steel comedy mask bellowing out smog. "Have you ever had a dream? One you couldn't keep, but one you loved more than anything?"
"Coldleaf. I've been here for at least 60 years, I think. Well, not here specifically. I have to move around to evade the Dreameaters."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She looks over her shoulder back at Cerberus. "Oh, hello! And not at all- I'd love some help!"
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)
He looks deeper into it, pondering the question as much as he possibly can “A dream I love more than anything but cannot keep?” He looks to the distance “I think so, I hope so. You’re a made after me?”
*gtg*