*Me and my DM came up with a fix for Felix: instead of his primary class resource being used exclusively to provide temporary HP, he can make what are effectively potions with it. We're going to need to work on the mechanics, but it should be a lot more fun and offer greater utility.*
*Welcome back Baalze, good to see ya again. Good to hear you're coming along with Felix, I like him, making him more fun to play means he'll hopefully last longer.*
*Felix is very loveable. I greatly enjoi the boi.*
There are no actual people in the hotel. Without warning, all the lights in the building go out except for one, directly above a staff-only door. It drifts open, revealing a staircase down. A sign on the inside reads "Boiler Room."
KK stands up, unfazed by the sudden absence of light, and heads down the stairs without a second thought or a moment's hesitation.
She finds herself in what looks like a run-down family diner. It’s all plywood and paint. There are stacks of trash with purple paint on them that resemble Strugel markings, as if they were some sort of crude effigies of employees. Each one is totally unique.
There are old, rust-red pipes everywhere, rattling and hissing with steam, leaking water onto the floor. The large, heavy, metal door to the next room is rusted shut and has words scrawled over it in barely visible red paint, reading things like “PROUD OF ME YET?” and “GOOD MORNING, SMALL-TOWN LISTENERS!“
The upper half of an old, crude entertainment construct hangs here, impaled into the wall behind it by a broken pipe. The bright-red Strugel animatronic jerks to a start upon seeing her. It seems to be partially made of flesh of some sort, overgrown and vile. It moves its jaws slowly, sparks falling and blood dribbling. It seems to be trying to talk, but lacks enough power.
There is a window behind it that could allow access into the next room, but the robot is, you know, stuck in front of it.
*Me and my DM came up with a fix for Felix: instead of his primary class resource being used exclusively to provide temporary HP, he can make what are effectively potions with it. We're going to need to work on the mechanics, but it should be a lot more fun and offer greater utility.*
*Welcome back Baalze, good to see ya again. Good to hear you're coming along with Felix, I like him, making him more fun to play means he'll hopefully last longer.*
*Felix is very loveable. I greatly enjoi the boi.*
*As do I, wish I felt more like rping honestly. Maybe I will anyway.*
There are no actual people in the hotel. Without warning, all the lights in the building go out except for one, directly above a staff-only door. It drifts open, revealing a staircase down. A sign on the inside reads "Boiler Room."
KK stands up, unfazed by the sudden absence of light, and heads down the stairs without a second thought or a moment's hesitation.
She finds herself in what looks like a run-down family diner. It’s all plywood and paint. There are stacks of trash with purple paint on them that resemble Strugel markings, as if they were some sort of crude effigies of employees. Each one is totally unique.
There are old, rust-red pipes everywhere, rattling and hissing with steam, leaking water onto the floor. The large, heavy, metal door to the next room is rusted shut and has words scrawled over it in barely visible red paint, reading things like “PROUD OF ME YET?” and “GOOD MORNING, SMALL-TOWN LISTENERS!“
The upper half of an old, crude entertainment construct hangs here, impaled into the wall behind it by a broken pipe. The bright-red Strugel animatronic jerks to a start upon seeing her. It seems to be partially made of flesh of some sort, overgrown and vile. It moves its jaws slowly, sparks falling and blood dribbling. It seems to be trying to talk, but lacks enough power.
There is a window behind it that could allow access into the next room, but the robot is, you know, stuck in front of it.
KK takes it all in, seeming almost nostalgic at the sight. She approaches the construct, placing both her hands on the broken pipe, before callously attempting to pull it out the machine to free it from being pinned to the wall.
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)
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
She finds herself in what looks like a run-down family diner. It’s all plywood and paint. There are stacks of trash with purple paint on them that resemble Strugel markings, as if they were some sort of crude effigies of employees. Each one is totally unique.
There are old, rust-red pipes everywhere, rattling and hissing with steam, leaking water onto the floor. The large, heavy, metal door to the next room is rusted shut and has words scrawled over it in barely visible red paint, reading things like “PROUD OF ME YET?” and “GOOD MORNING, SMALL-TOWN LISTENERS!“
The upper half of an old, crude entertainment construct hangs here, impaled into the wall behind it by a broken pipe. The bright-red Strugel animatronic jerks to a start upon seeing her. It seems to be partially made of flesh of some sort, overgrown and vile. It moves its jaws slowly, sparks falling and blood dribbling. It seems to be trying to talk, but lacks enough power.
There is a window behind it that could allow access into the next room, but the robot is, you know, stuck in front of it.
KK takes it all in, seeming almost nostalgic at the sight. She approaches the construct, placing both her hands on the broken pipe, before callously attempting to pull it out the machine to free it from being pinned to the wall.
It screeches in artificial agony, many gears and wires being ripped out along with the pipe. Electricity crackles and guts pour into the water and electrical cables all over the floor.
The building rumbles as the cheap yellow lights flicker violently, objects and pieces of architecture falling, crumbling, broken.
KK falls into a long hallway with various tools and blueprints for any machine you can think of hanging on the walls. Pieces of a playplace hang from the fallen cables, as do parts from various machines and animatronics, dripping and drizzling the dirty water from the floor above. Red words on the walls read things like “LOST AND FORGOTTEN,” “FAILURE,” “THEY DON’T NEED YOU ANYMORE,” “YOU ABANDONED YOUR FAMILY,” and “WHAT DID YOU EVEN THINK YOU WERE GOING TO ACCOMPLISH?”
At the end of the hall, there is the silhouette of a Strugel in a coat sitting on a chair, hunched over a desk. He seems to be sketching something.
She finds herself in what looks like a run-down family diner. It’s all plywood and paint. There are stacks of trash with purple paint on them that resemble Strugel markings, as if they were some sort of crude effigies of employees. Each one is totally unique.
There are old, rust-red pipes everywhere, rattling and hissing with steam, leaking water onto the floor. The large, heavy, metal door to the next room is rusted shut and has words scrawled over it in barely visible red paint, reading things like “PROUD OF ME YET?” and “GOOD MORNING, SMALL-TOWN LISTENERS!“
The upper half of an old, crude entertainment construct hangs here, impaled into the wall behind it by a broken pipe. The bright-red Strugel animatronic jerks to a start upon seeing her. It seems to be partially made of flesh of some sort, overgrown and vile. It moves its jaws slowly, sparks falling and blood dribbling. It seems to be trying to talk, but lacks enough power.
There is a window behind it that could allow access into the next room, but the robot is, you know, stuck in front of it.
KK takes it all in, seeming almost nostalgic at the sight. She approaches the construct, placing both her hands on the broken pipe, before callously attempting to pull it out the machine to free it from being pinned to the wall.
It screeches in artificial agony, many gears and wires being ripped out along with the pipe. Electricity crackles and guts pour into the water and electrical cables all over the floor.
The building rumbles as the cheap yellow lights flicker violently, objects and pieces of architecture falling, crumbling, broken.
KK falls into a long hallway with various tools and blueprints for any machine you can think of hanging on the walls. Pieces of a playplace hang from the fallen cables, as do parts from various machines and animatronics, dripping and drizzling the dirty water from the floor above. Red words on the walls read things like “LOST AND FORGOTTEN,” “FAILURE,” “THEY DON’T NEED YOU ANYMORE,” “YOU ABANDONED YOUR FAMILY,” and “WHAT DID YOU EVEN THINK YOU WERE GOING TO ACCOMPLISH?”
At the end of the hall, there is the silhouette of a Strugel in a coat sitting on a chair, hunched over a desk. He seems to be sketching something.
KK rises to her feet, and walks over to him, not showing an ounce of fear.
"Hello! KK here. I assume you're the one who called me here?"
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)
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
It screeches in artificial agony, many gears and wires being ripped out along with the pipe. Electricity crackles and guts pour into the water and electrical cables all over the floor.
The building rumbles as the cheap yellow lights flicker violently, objects and pieces of architecture falling, crumbling, broken.
KK falls into a long hallway with various tools and blueprints for any machine you can think of hanging on the walls. Pieces of a playplace hang from the fallen cables, as do parts from various machines and animatronics, dripping and drizzling the dirty water from the floor above. Red words on the walls read things like “LOST AND FORGOTTEN,” “FAILURE,” “THEY DON’T NEED YOU ANYMORE,” “YOU ABANDONED YOUR FAMILY,” and “WHAT DID YOU EVEN THINK YOU WERE GOING TO ACCOMPLISH?”
At the end of the hall, there is the silhouette of a Strugel in a coat sitting on a chair, hunched over a desk. He seems to be sketching something.
KK rises to her feet, and walks over to him, not showing an ounce of fear.
"Hello! KK here. I assume you're the one who called me here?"
"Yes." Comes his quiet, breathless voice. He doesn't look at her. He takes something off the wall in front of him and slides it into the desk lamp: a blueprint for the ideal form she had sketched before. "Please, speak softly."
Various Dream Eating Machines have begun to infest the woods, capturing and cooking various fey and other dream creatures with terrifying efficiency. The Machines are made of dark steel and filled with flames and have a similar warping ability to phase spiders, allowing them to hunt the fair folk without being caught as easily. The forest is somehow mostly unharmed by the burning automatons, aside from the clearing that has been carved out to summon a massive yellow hotel. The speakers on the outside of the skyscraper play old, distorted music.
Various Dream Eating Machines have begun to infest the woods, capturing and cooking various fey and other dream creatures with terrifying efficiency. The Machines are made of dark steel and filled with flames and have a similar warping ability to phase spiders, allowing them to hunt the fair folk without being caught as easily. The forest is somehow mostly unharmed by the burning automatons, aside from the clearing that has been carved out to summon a massive yellow hotel. The speakers on the outside of the skyscraper play old, distorted music.
Isaac goes over to the hotel
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
Various Dream Eating Machines have begun to infest the woods, capturing and cooking various fey and other dream creatures with terrifying efficiency. The Machines are made of dark steel and filled with flames and have a similar warping ability to phase spiders, allowing them to hunt the fair folk without being caught as easily. The forest is somehow mostly unharmed by the burning automatons, aside from the clearing that has been carved out to summon a massive yellow hotel. The speakers on the outside of the skyscraper play old, distorted music.
Isaac goes over to the hotel
The doors slowly open on their own, revealing the gilded interior. Plush furniture, carvings on the walls and ceiling, mechanical bellhops... but no receptionist to be found.
Various Dream Eating Machines have begun to infest the woods, capturing and cooking various fey and other dream creatures with terrifying efficiency. The Machines are made of dark steel and filled with flames and have a similar warping ability to phase spiders, allowing them to hunt the fair folk without being caught as easily. The forest is somehow mostly unharmed by the burning automatons, aside from the clearing that has been carved out to summon a massive yellow hotel. The speakers on the outside of the skyscraper play old, distorted music.
Isaac goes over to the hotel
The doors slowly open on their own, revealing the gilded interior. Plush furniture, carvings on the walls and ceiling, mechanical bellhops... but no receptionist to be found.
He looks around to see if anything looks off
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
The doors slowly open on their own, revealing the gilded interior. Plush furniture, carvings on the walls and ceiling, mechanical bellhops... but no receptionist to be found.
He looks around to see if anything looks off
*Sorry, I need some time. I wasn't fully prepared.*
The doors slowly open on their own, revealing the gilded interior. Plush furniture, carvings on the walls and ceiling, mechanical bellhops... but no receptionist to be found.
He looks around to see if anything looks off
*Sorry, I need some time. I wasn't fully prepared.*
(Take all the time you need)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
"That's a nasty habit, love." he says, raising an eyebrow.
"Mmmm, Lilac." She says tenderly, actually enjoying this more than she expected. "You?.."
He smiles warmly, kissing her forehead “I love that about you, but you shouldn’t be.”
She tilts her head, smirking a bit “Don’t you like me nasty darling? I don’t think you would want me if I was clean.”
He thinks on the name, the runes etched into his body thrumming with more warmth, making a comfortable air around him “That is a beautiful name. I’m Clem.”
"Says you" She says, sticking out her tongue.
"Oh, yes, I do, but, not nasty in the sense of potential self harm..." He sighs, pushing the food away as he leans back against the seat of the booth
"Awww, thank you, Clem. your name is nice, and... you're so comfy.." She exhales quietly, yawning.
He chuckles "Just like my teenage years, want to have my old sword?" He stands up from the counter.
"Don't worry, I'm too used to the toxins for them to actually hurt me." She says, putting them down and leaning back into her chair.
He stretches his arms, flexing the shoulders to make them pop, getting quite tired in the sun himself "Why thank you... you are too." He lays his head back down.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*Felix is very loveable. I greatly enjoi the boi.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Thirteen is jailbreaking a Nintendo Alarmo.
Riotan is dressing the corpse of a male deer outside.
Loriche is hanging out in the woods near the Guilt House, thinking over her past.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
She finds herself in what looks like a run-down family diner. It’s all plywood and paint. There are stacks of trash with purple paint on them that resemble Strugel markings, as if they were some sort of crude effigies of employees. Each one is totally unique.
There are old, rust-red pipes everywhere, rattling and hissing with steam, leaking water onto the floor. The large, heavy, metal door to the next room is rusted shut and has words scrawled over it in barely visible red paint, reading things like “PROUD OF ME YET?” and “GOOD MORNING, SMALL-TOWN LISTENERS!“
The upper half of an old, crude entertainment construct hangs here, impaled into the wall behind it by a broken pipe. The bright-red Strugel animatronic jerks to a start upon seeing her. It seems to be partially made of flesh of some sort, overgrown and vile. It moves its jaws slowly, sparks falling and blood dribbling. It seems to be trying to talk, but lacks enough power.
There is a window behind it that could allow access into the next room, but the robot is, you know, stuck in front of it.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*As do I, wish I felt more like rping honestly. Maybe I will anyway.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*Sorry I vanished yesterday, I have a time limit on my phone and all that.*
Dracula is playing Fire Emblem on his totally not Jailbroken Nintendo DS.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
KK takes it all in, seeming almost nostalgic at the sight. She approaches the construct, placing both her hands on the broken pipe, before callously attempting to pull it out the machine to free it from being pinned to the wall.
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)
(good afternoon)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
It screeches in artificial agony, many gears and wires being ripped out along with the pipe. Electricity crackles and guts pour into the water and electrical cables all over the floor.
The building rumbles as the cheap yellow lights flicker violently, objects and pieces of architecture falling, crumbling, broken.
KK falls into a long hallway with various tools and blueprints for any machine you can think of hanging on the walls. Pieces of a playplace hang from the fallen cables, as do parts from various machines and animatronics, dripping and drizzling the dirty water from the floor above. Red words on the walls read things like “LOST AND FORGOTTEN,” “FAILURE,” “THEY DON’T NEED YOU ANYMORE,” “YOU ABANDONED YOUR FAMILY,” and “WHAT DID YOU EVEN THINK YOU WERE GOING TO ACCOMPLISH?”
At the end of the hall, there is the silhouette of a Strugel in a coat sitting on a chair, hunched over a desk. He seems to be sketching something.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
KK rises to her feet, and walks over to him, not showing an ounce of fear.
"Hello! KK here. I assume you're the one who called me here?"
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)
(anyone want to rp?)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
"Yes." Comes his quiet, breathless voice. He doesn't look at her. He takes something off the wall in front of him and slides it into the desk lamp: a blueprint for the ideal form she had sketched before. "Please, speak softly."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Sure. Would Issac be interested in, say,*
Various Dream Eating Machines have begun to infest the woods, capturing and cooking various fey and other dream creatures with terrifying efficiency. The Machines are made of dark steel and filled with flames and have a similar warping ability to phase spiders, allowing them to hunt the fair folk without being caught as easily. The forest is somehow mostly unharmed by the burning automatons, aside from the clearing that has been carved out to summon a massive yellow hotel. The speakers on the outside of the skyscraper play old, distorted music.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Isaac goes over to the hotel
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
The doors slowly open on their own, revealing the gilded interior. Plush furniture, carvings on the walls and ceiling, mechanical bellhops... but no receptionist to be found.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He looks around to see if anything looks off
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
*Sorry, I need some time. I wasn't fully prepared.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
(Take all the time you need)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
He chuckles "Just like my teenage years, want to have my old sword?" He stands up from the counter.
"Don't worry, I'm too used to the toxins for them to actually hurt me." She says, putting them down and leaning back into her chair.
He stretches his arms, flexing the shoulders to make them pop, getting quite tired in the sun himself "Why thank you... you are too." He lays his head back down.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)