*Cut for Dutch* ”Heh, alright, I’ll make sure not to think of you as a good person then. Where’d you say this Slink was to be found? I got a ride.” He pulls a key ring out of his pocket and points with his fingerless gloved hand at the red impala nearby.
'Oh, there's been a couple of places. The spot by the riverbank where Ozzy disappeared, the old abandoned chemical plant, St Luke's church, but only in the night there, and then just random sightings across Balios'
He turns and walks over to his car. Emblazoned on the back of his black leather jacket are the words, Save Our above an anatomically correct flaming heart. Beneath the heart, the phrase is finished with the words, Sorry Souls. “I’m partial to the chemical plant, but that’s just cuz it sounds cool. Where do you think we should head to find this slinking thing?” He turns when he gets to his car, “Need a ride?”
'Oh, I'd like a ride, all right. That is one hell of a car.' Iago tries to get into the car, his hazmat suit proving an awkward fit
“It sure is.” He twists the key and the beast comes alive. It rolls smoothly out and onto the road like an awakened jungle cat. You can see a big black heart painted onto the hood of the car. Punk rock music plays over the radio:
Pick your poison… There’s monsters in our midst… Scream to throw your voice in… There’s monsters in the mist… Drinking chemical waste… Dropping rent fees with each breathe… Satisfy unnatural taste… Claim to be human… See if we believe it… Who knows if it’s true, man… What’s gone may want to be…
*Cut for Dutch* ”Heh, alright, I’ll make sure not to think of you as a good person then. Where’d you say this Slink was to be found? I got a ride.” He pulls a key ring out of his pocket and points with his fingerless gloved hand at the red impala nearby.
'Oh, there's been a couple of places. The spot by the riverbank where Ozzy disappeared, the old abandoned chemical plant, St Luke's church, but only in the night there, and then just random sightings across Balios'
He turns and walks over to his car. Emblazoned on the back of his black leather jacket are the words, Save Our above an anatomically correct flaming heart. Beneath the heart, the phrase is finished with the words, Sorry Souls. “I’m partial to the chemical plant, but that’s just cuz it sounds cool. Where do you think we should head to find this slinking thing?” He turns when he gets to his car, “Need a ride?”
'Oh, I'd like a ride, all right. That is one hell of a car.' Iago tries to get into the car, his hazmat suit proving an awkward fit
“It sure is.” He twists the key and the beast comes alive. It rolls smoothly out and onto the road like an awakened jungle cat. You can see a big black heart painted onto the hood of the car. Punk rock music plays over the radio:
Pick your poison… There’s monsters in our midst… Scream to throw your voice in… There’s monsters in the mist… Drinking chemical waste… Dropping rent fees with each breathe… Satisfy unnatural taste… Claim to be human… See if we believe it… Who knows if it’s true, man… What’s gone may want to be…
In almost no time, you are there.
'Monsters in our midst? You'd be right there.'
Iago forces himself out of the car, picking up his rifle. Before them stands the chemical plant, surrounded by a rusty wire fence.
*Cut for Dutch* ”Heh, alright, I’ll make sure not to think of you as a good person then. Where’d you say this Slink was to be found? I got a ride.” He pulls a key ring out of his pocket and points with his fingerless gloved hand at the red impala nearby.
'Oh, there's been a couple of places. The spot by the riverbank where Ozzy disappeared, the old abandoned chemical plant, St Luke's church, but only in the night there, and then just random sightings across Balios'
He turns and walks over to his car. Emblazoned on the back of his black leather jacket are the words, Save Our above an anatomically correct flaming heart. Beneath the heart, the phrase is finished with the words, Sorry Souls. “I’m partial to the chemical plant, but that’s just cuz it sounds cool. Where do you think we should head to find this slinking thing?” He turns when he gets to his car, “Need a ride?”
'Oh, I'd like a ride, all right. That is one hell of a car.' Iago tries to get into the car, his hazmat suit proving an awkward fit
“It sure is.” He twists the key and the beast comes alive. It rolls smoothly out and onto the road like an awakened jungle cat. You can see a big black heart painted onto the hood of the car. Punk rock music plays over the radio:
Pick your poison… There’s monsters in our midst… Scream to throw your voice in… There’s monsters in the mist… Drinking chemical waste… Dropping rent fees with each breathe… Satisfy unnatural taste… Claim to be human… See if we believe it… Who knows if it’s true, man… What’s gone may want to be…
In almost no time, you are there.
'Monsters in our midst? You'd be right there.'
Iago forces himself out of the car, picking up his rifle. Before them stands the chemical plant, surrounded by a rusty wire fence.
Charlie goes over to the trunk and pulls out a baseball bat. He smiles when he sees your gun, “Locked and loaded my man.” He then springs up at the fence, clambering over its top with ease and landing on the other side. “You coming over?” You notice he left the car running.
*Cut for Dutch* ”Heh, alright, I’ll make sure not to think of you as a good person then. Where’d you say this Slink was to be found? I got a ride.” He pulls a key ring out of his pocket and points with his fingerless gloved hand at the red impala nearby.
'Oh, there's been a couple of places. The spot by the riverbank where Ozzy disappeared, the old abandoned chemical plant, St Luke's church, but only in the night there, and then just random sightings across Balios'
He turns and walks over to his car. Emblazoned on the back of his black leather jacket are the words, Save Our above an anatomically correct flaming heart. Beneath the heart, the phrase is finished with the words, Sorry Souls. “I’m partial to the chemical plant, but that’s just cuz it sounds cool. Where do you think we should head to find this slinking thing?” He turns when he gets to his car, “Need a ride?”
'Oh, I'd like a ride, all right. That is one hell of a car.' Iago tries to get into the car, his hazmat suit proving an awkward fit
“It sure is.” He twists the key and the beast comes alive. It rolls smoothly out and onto the road like an awakened jungle cat. You can see a big black heart painted onto the hood of the car. Punk rock music plays over the radio:
Pick your poison… There’s monsters in our midst… Scream to throw your voice in… There’s monsters in the mist… Drinking chemical waste… Dropping rent fees with each breathe… Satisfy unnatural taste… Claim to be human… See if we believe it… Who knows if it’s true, man… What’s gone may want to be…
In almost no time, you are there.
'Monsters in our midst? You'd be right there.'
Iago forces himself out of the car, picking up his rifle. Before them stands the chemical plant, surrounded by a rusty wire fence.
Charlie goes over to the trunk and pulls out a baseball bat. He smiles when he sees your gun, “Locked and loaded my man.” He then springs up at the fence, clambering over its top with ease and landing on the other side. “You coming over?” You notice he left the car running.
Iago pulls out a pair of wire cutters, making a hole in the fence for him to fit through. 'Don't want my suit to get snagged. Hey, the car looks like it's still running.'
'Probably deeper inside the factory. From what we know, the Slink likes hiding in tunnels and vents and pipes. Small, dark spaces. You wouldn't be claustrophobic, would you?'
'Probably deeper inside the factory. From what we know, the Slink likes hiding in tunnels and vents and pipes. Small, dark spaces. You wouldn't be claustrophobic, would you?'
“Nah, I ain’t claustrophobic.” He begins to walk towards the nearest building, “That suit of yours might be hard to maneuver about in.”
'Probably deeper inside the factory. From what we know, the Slink likes hiding in tunnels and vents and pipes. Small, dark spaces. You wouldn't be claustrophobic, would you?'
“Nah, I ain’t claustrophobic.” He begins to walk towards the nearest building, “That suit of yours might be hard to maneuver about in.”
'Yes, it will be, most likely. But I'm not going to go around in a dangerous place like this without it'
Iago goes to the nearest door, which swings open. Inside is a dark hall containing various tanks and vats, the walls covered in graffiti
There has been recent activity outside of Balios- a few minutes outside of town, a fairground is being set up. A handful of rides and attractions have already been wheeled over into the chosen lot, with fencing all around plastered with banners saying 'The Masquerade Fair: Coming Soon!' Strangely, when people show up to start preparing things, they only do so at night.
The Architect is walking around the under-development fairgrounds in her disguised form, overseeing the preparations. Her Schisms and Mannequins are setting up the attractions around her, also cloaked and in disguise, though they ironically pass as human far better than their creator can.
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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)
Melissa is walking down the street. It's almost sunset, and she is listening to Death Metal on her Walkman.
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Hi, I'm Anders. I like wreaking havoc in TTRPGs and listening to Swedish Death Metal. I currently am in the process of starting a campaign, GMed by your's truly. Entombed is a great band, you should check 'em out.
A tall, imposing-looking man of about 60 approaches the fairground, dressed in a long leather trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. Bundles of garlic hang at his waist, and a crucifix from his neck
A tall, imposing-looking man of about 60 approaches the fairground, dressed in a long leather trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. Bundles of garlic hang at his waist, and a crucifix from his neck
The people assembling the rides occasionally look his way as he approaches, but don't say anything. The very air around the fairgrounds feels... odd. The Architect inside one of the large stands meant for serving food, making sure everything is in working order, though it's difficult to see them in the dark.
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)
A tall, imposing-looking man of about 60 approaches the fairground, dressed in a long leather trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. Bundles of garlic hang at his waist, and a crucifix from his neck
The people assembling the rides occasionally look his way as he approaches, but don't say anything. The very air around the fairgrounds feels... odd. The Architect inside one of the large stands meant for serving food, making sure everything is in working order, though it's difficult to see them in the dark.
A tall, imposing-looking man of about 60 approaches the fairground, dressed in a long leather trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. Bundles of garlic hang at his waist, and a crucifix from his neck
The people assembling the rides occasionally look his way as he approaches, but don't say anything. The very air around the fairgrounds feels... odd. The Architect inside one of the large stands meant for serving food, making sure everything is in working order, though it's difficult to see them in the dark.
'What food do you serve here?'
She looks up in surprise, though her face is hidden by a strange mask. "Oh, the fair's not fully open yet. We're still setting up the food stands, so at the moment... nothing. Once everything's up and running, though, we'll have a wide assortment available."
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)
A tall, imposing-looking man of about 60 approaches the fairground, dressed in a long leather trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. Bundles of garlic hang at his waist, and a crucifix from his neck
The people assembling the rides occasionally look his way as he approaches, but don't say anything. The very air around the fairgrounds feels... odd. The Architect inside one of the large stands meant for serving food, making sure everything is in working order, though it's difficult to see them in the dark.
'What food do you serve here?'
She looks up in surprise, though her face is hidden by a strange mask. "Oh, the fair's not fully open yet. We're still setting up the food stands, so at the moment... nothing. Once everything's up and running, though, we'll have a wide assortment available."
'Probably deeper inside the factory. From what we know, the Slink likes hiding in tunnels and vents and pipes. Small, dark spaces. You wouldn't be claustrophobic, would you?'
“Nah, I ain’t claustrophobic.” He begins to walk towards the nearest building, “That suit of yours might be hard to maneuver about in.”
'Yes, it will be, most likely. But I'm not going to go around in a dangerous place like this without it'
Iago goes to the nearest door, which swings open. Inside is a dark hall containing various tanks and vats, the walls covered in graffiti
Charlie looks over the graffiti like a Renaissance artist surveying Pablo Picasso. He pulls out a can of spray paint and begins to spray something onto the wall. “Gotta leave my mark.” The spray soon forms a big black heart. He then begins to outline it with red.
'Probably deeper inside the factory. From what we know, the Slink likes hiding in tunnels and vents and pipes. Small, dark spaces. You wouldn't be claustrophobic, would you?'
“Nah, I ain’t claustrophobic.” He begins to walk towards the nearest building, “That suit of yours might be hard to maneuver about in.”
'Yes, it will be, most likely. But I'm not going to go around in a dangerous place like this without it'
Iago goes to the nearest door, which swings open. Inside is a dark hall containing various tanks and vats, the walls covered in graffiti
Charlie looks over the graffiti like a Renaissance artist surveying Pablo Picasso. He pulls out a can of spray paint and begins to spray something onto the wall. “Gotta leave my mark.” The spray soon forms a big black heart. He then begins to outline it with red.
'Looks beautiful' Iago comments. Whether it is ironic is hard to tell, his voice is always slightly muffled.
A splashing sound can be heard coming from a nearby vat
A tall, imposing-looking man of about 60 approaches the fairground, dressed in a long leather trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. Bundles of garlic hang at his waist, and a crucifix from his neck
The people assembling the rides occasionally look his way as he approaches, but don't say anything. The very air around the fairgrounds feels... odd. The Architect inside one of the large stands meant for serving food, making sure everything is in working order, though it's difficult to see them in the dark.
'What food do you serve here?'
She looks up in surprise, though her face is hidden by a strange mask. "Oh, the fair's not fully open yet. We're still setting up the food stands, so at the moment... nothing. Once everything's up and running, though, we'll have a wide assortment available."
'And... this place is safe, right?'
"Of course- keeping everything up to code. Why do you ask?" She asks, her head tilting slightly. There's something off about her, but it's hard to figure out what, especially in such poor lighting.
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)
Hi, I'm Anders. I like wreaking havoc in TTRPGs and listening to Swedish Death Metal. I currently am in the process of starting a campaign, GMed by your's truly. Entombed is a great band, you should check 'em out.
A tall, imposing-looking man of about 60 approaches the fairground, dressed in a long leather trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. Bundles of garlic hang at his waist, and a crucifix from his neck
The people assembling the rides occasionally look his way as he approaches, but don't say anything. The very air around the fairgrounds feels... odd. The Architect inside one of the large stands meant for serving food, making sure everything is in working order, though it's difficult to see them in the dark.
'What food do you serve here?'
She looks up in surprise, though her face is hidden by a strange mask. "Oh, the fair's not fully open yet. We're still setting up the food stands, so at the moment... nothing. Once everything's up and running, though, we'll have a wide assortment available."
'And... this place is safe, right?'
"Of course- keeping everything up to code. Why do you ask?" She asks, her head tilting slightly. There's something off about her, but it's hard to figure out what, especially in such poor lighting.
“It sure is.” He twists the key and the beast comes alive. It rolls smoothly out and onto the road like an awakened jungle cat. You can see a big black heart painted onto the hood of the car. Punk rock music plays over the radio:
Pick your poison… There’s monsters in our midst… Scream to throw your voice in… There’s monsters in the mist… Drinking chemical waste… Dropping rent fees with each breathe… Satisfy unnatural taste… Claim to be human… See if we believe it… Who knows if it’s true, man… What’s gone may want to be…
In almost no time, you are there.
'Monsters in our midst? You'd be right there.'
Iago forces himself out of the car, picking up his rifle. Before them stands the chemical plant, surrounded by a rusty wire fence.
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Charlie goes over to the trunk and pulls out a baseball bat. He smiles when he sees your gun, “Locked and loaded my man.” He then springs up at the fence, clambering over its top with ease and landing on the other side. “You coming over?” You notice he left the car running.
Iago pulls out a pair of wire cutters, making a hole in the fence for him to fit through. 'Don't want my suit to get snagged. Hey, the car looks like it's still running.'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
“Don’t worry about it, it ain’t gonna run out of gas.” He surveys the area. “So where do you think this beastie’ll be hiding?”
'Probably deeper inside the factory. From what we know, the Slink likes hiding in tunnels and vents and pipes. Small, dark spaces. You wouldn't be claustrophobic, would you?'
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“Nah, I ain’t claustrophobic.” He begins to walk towards the nearest building, “That suit of yours might be hard to maneuver about in.”
'Yes, it will be, most likely. But I'm not going to go around in a dangerous place like this without it'
Iago goes to the nearest door, which swings open. Inside is a dark hall containing various tanks and vats, the walls covered in graffiti
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
There has been recent activity outside of Balios- a few minutes outside of town, a fairground is being set up. A handful of rides and attractions have already been wheeled over into the chosen lot, with fencing all around plastered with banners saying 'The Masquerade Fair: Coming Soon!' Strangely, when people show up to start preparing things, they only do so at night.
The Architect is walking around the under-development fairgrounds in her disguised form, overseeing the preparations. Her Schisms and Mannequins are setting up the attractions around her, also cloaked and in disguise, though they ironically pass as human far better than their creator can.
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)
*hey y'all*
Melissa is walking down the street. It's almost sunset, and she is listening to Death Metal on her Walkman.
Hi, I'm Anders. I like wreaking havoc in TTRPGs and listening to Swedish Death Metal. I currently am in the process of starting a campaign, GMed by your's truly. Entombed is a great band, you should check 'em out.
Peace, love, and death metal my friends
-Anders
A tall, imposing-looking man of about 60 approaches the fairground, dressed in a long leather trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. Bundles of garlic hang at his waist, and a crucifix from his neck
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
The people assembling the rides occasionally look his way as he approaches, but don't say anything. The very air around the fairgrounds feels... odd. The Architect inside one of the large stands meant for serving food, making sure everything is in working order, though it's difficult to see them in the dark.
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)
'What food do you serve here?'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
She looks up in surprise, though her face is hidden by a strange mask. "Oh, the fair's not fully open yet. We're still setting up the food stands, so at the moment... nothing. Once everything's up and running, though, we'll have a wide assortment available."
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)
'And... this place is safe, right?'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
Charlie looks over the graffiti like a Renaissance artist surveying Pablo Picasso. He pulls out a can of spray paint and begins to spray something onto the wall. “Gotta leave my mark.” The spray soon forms a big black heart. He then begins to outline it with red.
'Looks beautiful' Iago comments. Whether it is ironic is hard to tell, his voice is always slightly muffled.
A splashing sound can be heard coming from a nearby vat
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
"Of course- keeping everything up to code. Why do you ask?" She asks, her head tilting slightly. There's something off about her, but it's hard to figure out what, especially in such poor lighting.
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)
*can I join you guys?*
Hi, I'm Anders. I like wreaking havoc in TTRPGs and listening to Swedish Death Metal. I currently am in the process of starting a campaign, GMed by your's truly. Entombed is a great band, you should check 'em out.
Peace, love, and death metal my friends
-Anders
'I'm just a curious sort of man'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!