It's storming hard. Hailing, even. Cats have gathered in the Slink's cave, meowing in a chorus of mourning.
Amatarou in his cat cafe is drinking a boba himself this morning, looking tired and stressed. He still wears his mask, pushing the straw beneath the lower edge of it. He drums his plastic-gloved fingers on the counter over and over and over, stopping to pace before coming back to his spot.
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
It's storming hard. Hailing, even. Cats have gathered in the Slink's cave, meowing in a chorus of mourning.
Amatarou in his cat cafe is drinking a boba himself this morning, looking tired and stressed. He still wears his mask, pushing the straw beneath the lower edge of it. He drums his plastic-gloved fingers on the counter over and over and over, stopping to pace before coming back to his spot.
He can smell the stench of death as a woman enters, clad in bloodstained gothic clothing and covered in stab wounds. She is carrying an electric guitar, and seems to be unbothered by her wounds. She's a nightmare, you can tell for sure, but she seems... different, as if she wasn't aware of what she is.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.
It's storming hard. Hailing, even. Cats have gathered in the Slink's cave, meowing in a chorus of mourning.
Amatarou in his cat cafe is drinking a boba himself this morning, looking tired and stressed. He still wears his mask, pushing the straw beneath the lower edge of it. He drums his plastic-gloved fingers on the counter over and over and over, stopping to pace before coming back to his spot.
He can smell the stench of death as a woman enters, clad in bloodstained gothic clothing and covered in stab wounds. She is carrying an electric guitar, and seems to be unbothered by her wounds. She's a nightmare, you can tell for sure, but she seems... different, as if she wasn't aware of what she is.
He paces for a bit more before going to the back and bringing out a towel for her, placing it on her shoulders. "Have you learned Cloaking yet, sister?" The cats don't seem to mind the smell, walking up to lick her shoes dry. "It's okay if you have no idea what you're talking about."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
It's storming hard. Hailing, even. Cats have gathered in the Slink's cave, meowing in a chorus of mourning.
Amatarou in his cat cafe is drinking a boba himself this morning, looking tired and stressed. He still wears his mask, pushing the straw beneath the lower edge of it. He drums his plastic-gloved fingers on the counter over and over and over, stopping to pace before coming back to his spot.
He can smell the stench of death as a woman enters, clad in bloodstained gothic clothing and covered in stab wounds. She is carrying an electric guitar, and seems to be unbothered by her wounds. She's a nightmare, you can tell for sure, but she seems... different, as if she wasn't aware of what she is.
He paces for a bit more before going to the back and bringing out a towel for her, placing it on her shoulders. "Have you learned Cloaking yet, sister?" The cats don't seem to mind the smell, walking up to lick her shoes dry. "It's okay if you have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm sorry, I don't think I completely understand?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.
He paces for a bit more before going to the back and bringing out a towel for her, placing it on her shoulders. "Have you learned Cloaking yet, sister?" The cats don't seem to mind the smell, walking up to lick her shoes dry. "It's okay if you have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm sorry, I don't think I completely understand?"
"The smell and the wounds. You can hide them with a bit of magic." He goes back to the counter and picks up a cup. "You drink? Milk tea, I mean. No alcohol in this establishment."
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He paces for a bit more before going to the back and bringing out a towel for her, placing it on her shoulders. "Have you learned Cloaking yet, sister?" The cats don't seem to mind the smell, walking up to lick her shoes dry. "It's okay if you have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm sorry, I don't think I completely understand?"
"The smell and the wounds. You can hide them with a bit of magic." He goes back to the counter and picks up a cup. "You drink? Milk tea, I mean. No alcohol in this establishment."
"Oh... well, no, I don't think I've learned... yeah, i'll have some tea"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.
"The smell and the wounds. You can hide them with a bit of magic." He goes back to the counter and picks up a cup. "You drink? Milk tea, I mean. No alcohol in this establishment."
"Oh... well, no, I don't think I've learned... yeah, i'll have some tea"
"I'll get you black with reduced sugar to get you started. You're pretty fresh, so you might not have adjusted to the sweetness of the modern American palate yet." He begins mixing a drink for her. "And I'll skip the boba pearls this time. Some people don't like them, and now doesn't feel like a time to experiment." After a bit, he places the drink before her with a straw. "So, who do I make this out to?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"The smell and the wounds. You can hide them with a bit of magic." He goes back to the counter and picks up a cup. "You drink? Milk tea, I mean. No alcohol in this establishment."
"Oh... well, no, I don't think I've learned... yeah, i'll have some tea"
"I'll get you black with reduced sugar to get you started. You're pretty fresh, so you might not have adjusted to the sweetness of the modern American palate yet." He begins mixing a drink for her. "And I'll skip the boba pearls this time. Some people don't like them, and now doesn't feel like a time to experiment." After a bit, he places the drink before her with a straw. "So, who do I make this out to?"
"Melissa." She says, then takes a sip
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.
"I'll get you black with reduced sugar to get you started. You're pretty fresh, so you might not have adjusted to the sweetness of the modern American palate yet." He begins mixing a drink for her. "And I'll skip the boba pearls this time. Some people don't like them, and now doesn't feel like a time to experiment." After a bit, he places the drink before her with a straw. "So, who do I make this out to?"
"Melissa." She says, then takes a sip
He nods to her. The tea is sweet and creamy. He doesn't pry, just lets her enjoy her drink and the company of the many cats.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I'll get you black with reduced sugar to get you started. You're pretty fresh, so you might not have adjusted to the sweetness of the modern American palate yet." He begins mixing a drink for her. "And I'll skip the boba pearls this time. Some people don't like them, and now doesn't feel like a time to experiment." After a bit, he places the drink before her with a straw. "So, who do I make this out to?"
"Melissa." She says, then takes a sip
He nods to her. The tea is sweet and creamy. He doesn't pry, just lets her enjoy her drink and the company of the many cats.
She reaches out to pet the closest cat, turning her attention back to the man. "So, what exactly is the deal with all these nightmares? And why do we call them that?"
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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.
"Not as much as they could." The cat meows happily. "It was... fun."
"Heh heh, you looked like you were enjoying yourself." He takes another sip while scratching at the cat's head, "If you don't mind me asking... this place sure don't seem fearful. What sort of Nightmare are you?"
"Resentment, particularly toward the stagnation in this town. This place... it's hard to get things done. It's too comfy, too distracting. An escape with cheap drinks and cuddly kitties for everyone, no matter age, sex, or importance."
By now all the tea is gone and he is loudly slurping up each boba ball, "I see. You know what a stagnant puddle needs to shake things up? A huge muddy boot splash down in its middle." He stomps his foot hard on the ground startling some of the cats.
*NGL, the Mother of Puppets would absolutely look like Rosie from Hazbin Hotel mixed with Cruella de Vil: comfy, fluffy furs, cigars, sun hat, then completely normal clothes underneath with a skirt, tie, and dress shirt. Face completely shadowed except for their eyes.*
*So the art piece is gonna be "Kawaii waiter crouched between two shadowy ladies, but one is more opulent while the other is more punk."*
He nods to her. The tea is sweet and creamy. He doesn't pry, just lets her enjoy her drink and the company of the many cats.
She reaches out to pet the closest cat, turning her attention back to the man. "So, what exactly is the deal with all these nightmares? And why do we call them that?"
"You'll have to be more specific. A Nightmare is just... a bad dream, a half-real creature spawned from negative emotions. Most Nightmares are born in pain and live for a single terrified instant before dying and being reborn into a hellscape again and again and again until they're finally capable and lucky enough to make it to this world. For how awful this place is, it's better than the Beach."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He nods to her. The tea is sweet and creamy. He doesn't pry, just lets her enjoy her drink and the company of the many cats.
She reaches out to pet the closest cat, turning her attention back to the man. "So, what exactly is the deal with all these nightmares? And why do we call them that?"
"You'll have to be more specific. A Nightmare is just... a bad dream, a half-real creature spawned from negative emotions. Most Nightmares are born in pain and live for a single terrified instant before dying and being reborn into a hellscape again and again and again until they're finally capable and lucky enough to make it to this world. For how awful this place is, it's better than the Beach."
His words awaken memories she had no idea existed. She suddenly tenses up, holding her head as she relives them.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.
"Resentment, particularly toward the stagnation in this town. This place... it's hard to get things done. It's too comfy, too distracting. An escape with cheap drinks and cuddly kitties for everyone, no matter age, sex, or importance."
By now all the tea is gone and he is loudly slurping up each boba ball, "I see. You know what a stagnant puddle needs to shake things up? A huge muddy boot splash down in its middle." He stomps his foot hard on the ground startling some of the cats.
"If you desire hostilities, then I can happily arrange for some for you. That is your comfort zone, isn't it? Thoughtless destruction?" He picks up a small paper effigy from below the counter. "And your name is Charlie, right?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"You'll have to be more specific. A Nightmare is just... a bad dream, a half-real creature spawned from negative emotions. Most Nightmares are born in pain and live for a single terrified instant before dying and being reborn into a hellscape again and again and again until they're finally capable and lucky enough to make it to this world. For how awful this place is, it's better than the Beach."
His words awaken memories she had no idea existed. She suddenly tenses up, holding her head as she relives them.
He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. You're not there anymore. You're here. With the tea and cats, and, hopefully, a friend."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"You'll have to be more specific. A Nightmare is just... a bad dream, a half-real creature spawned from negative emotions. Most Nightmares are born in pain and live for a single terrified instant before dying and being reborn into a hellscape again and again and again until they're finally capable and lucky enough to make it to this world. For how awful this place is, it's better than the Beach."
His words awaken memories she had no idea existed. She suddenly tenses up, holding her head as she relives them.
He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. You're not there anymore. You're here. With the tea and cats, and, hopefully, a friend."
She nods, shaking off the horrible memories. "Yeah..." she says, picking up a cat to snuggle with
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.
The Mother of Puppets is watching a young man throughout the darker hours of the day, always just out of sight from him. Recently, he’s quit drinking alcohol entirely, which seems to have peaked the Mother’s interest, as it tries to see if it can find a way to force him to break that habit.
By now all the tea is gone and he is loudly slurping up each boba ball, "I see. You know what a stagnant puddle needs to shake things up? A huge muddy boot splash down in its middle." He stomps his foot hard on the ground startling some of the cats.
"If you desire hostilities, then I can happily arrange for some for you. That is your comfort zone, isn't it? Thoughtless destruction?" He picks up a small paper effigy from below the counter. "And your name is Charlie, right?"
He considers this but he has a strange look on his face. Like there is more to it than that, but he doesn't believe you'd understand it so it remains hidden, "Sure, a little conflict never hurt nobody," He says with a sardonic grin. He eyes the paper figure, "That's the name I've chosen, yes. Roadkill Charlie."
*Sure!*
It's storming hard. Hailing, even. Cats have gathered in the Slink's cave, meowing in a chorus of mourning.
Amatarou in his cat cafe is drinking a boba himself this morning, looking tired and stressed. He still wears his mask, pushing the straw beneath the lower edge of it. He drums his plastic-gloved fingers on the counter over and over and over, stopping to pace before coming back to his spot.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He can smell the stench of death as a woman enters, clad in bloodstained gothic clothing and covered in stab wounds. She is carrying an electric guitar, and seems to be unbothered by her wounds. She's a nightmare, you can tell for sure, but she seems... different, as if she wasn't aware of what she is.
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
He paces for a bit more before going to the back and bringing out a towel for her, placing it on her shoulders. "Have you learned Cloaking yet, sister?" The cats don't seem to mind the smell, walking up to lick her shoes dry. "It's okay if you have no idea what you're talking about."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I completely understand?"
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
"The smell and the wounds. You can hide them with a bit of magic." He goes back to the counter and picks up a cup. "You drink? Milk tea, I mean. No alcohol in this establishment."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Oh... well, no, I don't think I've learned... yeah, i'll have some tea"
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'll get you black with reduced sugar to get you started. You're pretty fresh, so you might not have adjusted to the sweetness of the modern American palate yet." He begins mixing a drink for her. "And I'll skip the boba pearls this time. Some people don't like them, and now doesn't feel like a time to experiment." After a bit, he places the drink before her with a straw. "So, who do I make this out to?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Melissa." She says, then takes a sip
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
He nods to her. The tea is sweet and creamy. He doesn't pry, just lets her enjoy her drink and the company of the many cats.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She reaches out to pet the closest cat, turning her attention back to the man. "So, what exactly is the deal with all these nightmares? And why do we call them that?"
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
By now all the tea is gone and he is loudly slurping up each boba ball, "I see. You know what a stagnant puddle needs to shake things up? A huge muddy boot splash down in its middle." He stomps his foot hard on the ground startling some of the cats.
*you are absolutely correct*
"You'll have to be more specific. A Nightmare is just... a bad dream, a half-real creature spawned from negative emotions. Most Nightmares are born in pain and live for a single terrified instant before dying and being reborn into a hellscape again and again and again until they're finally capable and lucky enough to make it to this world. For how awful this place is, it's better than the Beach."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
His words awaken memories she had no idea existed. She suddenly tenses up, holding her head as she relives them.
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
"If you desire hostilities, then I can happily arrange for some for you. That is your comfort zone, isn't it? Thoughtless destruction?" He picks up a small paper effigy from below the counter. "And your name is Charlie, right?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. You're not there anymore. You're here. With the tea and cats, and, hopefully, a friend."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She nods, shaking off the horrible memories. "Yeah..." she says, picking up a cat to snuggle with
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
He closes his eyes and walks back behind the counter. The cat purrs gently.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The Mother of Puppets is watching a young man throughout the darker hours of the day, always just out of sight from him. Recently, he’s quit drinking alcohol entirely, which seems to have peaked the Mother’s interest, as it tries to see if it can find a way to force him to break that habit.
He considers this but he has a strange look on his face. Like there is more to it than that, but he doesn't believe you'd understand it so it remains hidden, "Sure, a little conflict never hurt nobody," He says with a sardonic grin. He eyes the paper figure, "That's the name I've chosen, yes. Roadkill Charlie."