The latest installment of the Game, which has Tracy getting in line for heaven knows what. Trump, Torcuil and Trump are quickly,... not getting there 'cuz Trump tower only actually moves at an oxen-pace.
Previous bread here: https://mlpol.net/vx/res/8954.html
\r
/vx/ - Videogames and Paranormal
959 replies and 69 files omitted.
>>10589
Yes. I crafted a system that I call "Yandere calculus" to determine how I'll play her with each given development, all for the sake of staying in character.
Yes. I crafted a system that I call "Yandere calculus" to determine how I'll play her with each given development, all for the sake of staying in character.
>>10590
... Couldn't you just intuit what Tracy's character would do at each given crossroads, and not need to map out all possible outcomes with probably dozens of variables?
... Couldn't you just intuit what Tracy's character would do at each given crossroads, and not need to map out all possible outcomes with probably dozens of variables?
>mfw
Yay me
Yay me
>>10587
Wut? We're not going micro-chimerism are we?
>>10588
"Thus far"
GM hasn't even turned up the volume on "level-advanced aversaries"
"Oh shoot, I forgot the chain" she says at GM.
Keep it, no one is proficient, and you might need it.
"Okay... but tell Infernius"
Please stop.
Infernius, its absurd, but for what its worth she thinks you're amazing. This is seriously autistic shit, given that both are figmentary and all, but its important to her that I iterate that you're something special. THERE, are ypou satisfied?"
"Nope! At this rate, I may make a move for Godform!"
SMH
Wut? We're not going micro-chimerism are we?
>>10588
"Thus far"
GM hasn't even turned up the volume on "level-advanced aversaries"
"Oh shoot, I forgot the chain" she says at GM.
Keep it, no one is proficient, and you might need it.
"Okay... but tell Infernius"
Please stop.
Infernius, its absurd, but for what its worth she thinks you're amazing. This is seriously autistic shit, given that both are figmentary and all, but its important to her that I iterate that you're something special. THERE, are ypou satisfied?"
"Nope! At this rate, I may make a move for Godform!"
SMH
>>10591
The flowcharts give her structure: the mess of different paths are her "mind" per say. I can still nudge it in any direction, or ignore the charts altogether, but I prefer to keep her in character (so it's not me making the decisions; it's her). They also give a rational order to the mind of a seemingly irrational character.
I work hard to make this fun.
The flowcharts give her structure: the mess of different paths are her "mind" per say. I can still nudge it in any direction, or ignore the charts altogether, but I prefer to keep her in character (so it's not me making the decisions; it's her). They also give a rational order to the mind of a seemingly irrational character.
I work hard to make this fun.
>"SEASON ONE" GAME OVER
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>>10594
This is what is happening here
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MeasuringTheMarigolds
>>10595
What would be the most relevant classes to spend the upgrades on?
This is what is happening here
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MeasuringTheMarigolds
>>10595
What would be the most relevant classes to spend the upgrades on?
File (): D6A8C667E80F3ED9D250CC3A4B0E1759-624912.png (610.3 KB, 4900x4900, 1506152066861.png)
>>10606
>>10607
>Flowchart calls for casual acts of good nature, when Tracy is feeling this good
Tracy's faggot is to tired and lazy to write it out, but assume Tracy dug up the golem parts and dumped them in the crafting area, some time later in the next couple days after she woke up.
She did it when nobody was looking, in stealth.
>>10607
>Flowchart calls for casual acts of good nature, when Tracy is feeling this good
Tracy's faggot is to tired and lazy to write it out, but assume Tracy dug up the golem parts and dumped them in the crafting area, some time later in the next couple days after she woke up.
She did it when nobody was looking, in stealth.
For his tired posturing Trumpaladin could not go to sleep, however fluffed up his pillow may have been, or however soft the mattress. He thought of the football he gave Tracy and of the first time he played it.
It was late December that year he graduated and started with CBP, and though not quite a rookie, he had been an officer only about eight months. A group of officers from the patrol in nearby Harlingen came to visit for group training that week. The lead officer was a man named Medina, a shuffled haired 28-year-old whose family was from there in the Valley, and could be traced back since the Spanish. He had that friendly and jesting personality to him. He had heard that Trumpaladin – and Trumpaladin was not known as “Trump” the time – was a college football player. He wanted to see this star player in action. So Medina challenged Trump and his patrol to a game against his Harlingen patrol. They played on a plowed farmer’s field, since the station did not have free land, and the farmers allowed CBP on their property, since they tended to scare away aliens, who cut barbed wire fences and clogged canals with litter. It was a brisk morning, perhaps 55 degrees besides a breeze, as it is often not very cold in the winter in South Texas, and with the sun rising over the fields it was truly a nice morning. This is not to say Trump felt nice, not by any means at all. He had driven in 12 hours from his home, where he stayed for Christmas, and was up late the night before with his companions. Though he did not drink and was not hungover, he had a headache that dominated over the otherwise tranquil and pleasant feel of the field.
Being the star and all, it was he who supplied the ball ad placed it on the field. He had run in to purchase the football at an Academy sporting goods store in McAllen just the day before, almost as an after though, but just in case they might want to play a game. He had missed playing ball in college, however intense and injurious it may have been to play. He did not miss it that morning. Trumpaladin always blamed his poor performance that morning on sleep deprivation and his head ache, but for whatever reason, he could not muster much more than Medina or the team from Harlingen. He won, to be sure, but it was that sort of victory that, under the circumstances, feels more like a mitigated defeat. “Good game” medina said to him as he tossed the ball to Trump. He was smiling as he did so, because he knew he had shown off Trump. Medina closed the gap by six points, down to only three points, 24-21, in the last quarter. Medina was a very good player that morning, and again in future matches. He was a very good officer, always did his work well. He was a good person, pleasant to be around, and always had a joke, even if he was somewhat teasing of Trump. He was shot and killed one morning on patrol, evidently by a group of Mexican drug smugglers. Trumpaladin would mentioned Medina in some of his later speeches, when speaking on the situation on the US Mexico border. He wished he could have told the audiences how well Medina played Football that day; how he loved the sport as did Trump.
The football, the same football Medina carried across the goal line twice that game, was probably the only physical memento that Trump had of Medina. Really, it was one of the few he had remaining relics of the two years of his life he spent in CBP. And he gave it to Tracy. He truly did give up a piece of his soul when he handed it to her. But that was okay, because he had given up far more to his country, or for his career. Certainly, Medina gave far more. He knew that delivering the ball was probably for nothing, and that that football would probably remain in Tracy’s room indefinitely, cluttering up a corner. Worse, it may form a part of some bizarre shrine, its true use never appreciated. But that was also okay. Over the years, Trump became used to vain sacrifice. So many times he removed criminal immigrants just to see them come right back again. The man suspected to have killed Medina was himself removed three times. And Trump had equally fought against corrupt politicians and sports announcers just to see them come back again and again. But that was okay, because he had done all he was able. He did all he could to stop the bad hombres. He did all he could to fight against the corruption of the NFL, and he did all he could to stop the globalists in his time. So when he failed, and it all came to nothing, he could say he was admirable. He played a good game. So too, it will not be his fault when Tracy turns.
He thought about Port Barry. He told them to gather the bodies – the bodies of those who did not make it to safety – and burry them in the monastery. Tomorrow he would assess the damage to the structures, and determine how much of the town needed to be torn down, and how many of his own buildings were damaged. For a moment, the thought crossed into his mind that Port Barry was attacked while he was away on a fruitless expedition. Medina was killed on a day he had taken off. But the thought was banished from his mind. He thought about Thez, how she disappeared, and how she had sealed the outsiders away forever. Such meaningfulness in her sacrifice, He wish his own death had accomplished as much, or that he could have done as much service to the citizens of Port Barry. They’ll have their own new football tomorrow, and he hoped to make this new one count.
It was late December that year he graduated and started with CBP, and though not quite a rookie, he had been an officer only about eight months. A group of officers from the patrol in nearby Harlingen came to visit for group training that week. The lead officer was a man named Medina, a shuffled haired 28-year-old whose family was from there in the Valley, and could be traced back since the Spanish. He had that friendly and jesting personality to him. He had heard that Trumpaladin – and Trumpaladin was not known as “Trump” the time – was a college football player. He wanted to see this star player in action. So Medina challenged Trump and his patrol to a game against his Harlingen patrol. They played on a plowed farmer’s field, since the station did not have free land, and the farmers allowed CBP on their property, since they tended to scare away aliens, who cut barbed wire fences and clogged canals with litter. It was a brisk morning, perhaps 55 degrees besides a breeze, as it is often not very cold in the winter in South Texas, and with the sun rising over the fields it was truly a nice morning. This is not to say Trump felt nice, not by any means at all. He had driven in 12 hours from his home, where he stayed for Christmas, and was up late the night before with his companions. Though he did not drink and was not hungover, he had a headache that dominated over the otherwise tranquil and pleasant feel of the field.
Being the star and all, it was he who supplied the ball ad placed it on the field. He had run in to purchase the football at an Academy sporting goods store in McAllen just the day before, almost as an after though, but just in case they might want to play a game. He had missed playing ball in college, however intense and injurious it may have been to play. He did not miss it that morning. Trumpaladin always blamed his poor performance that morning on sleep deprivation and his head ache, but for whatever reason, he could not muster much more than Medina or the team from Harlingen. He won, to be sure, but it was that sort of victory that, under the circumstances, feels more like a mitigated defeat. “Good game” medina said to him as he tossed the ball to Trump. He was smiling as he did so, because he knew he had shown off Trump. Medina closed the gap by six points, down to only three points, 24-21, in the last quarter. Medina was a very good player that morning, and again in future matches. He was a very good officer, always did his work well. He was a good person, pleasant to be around, and always had a joke, even if he was somewhat teasing of Trump. He was shot and killed one morning on patrol, evidently by a group of Mexican drug smugglers. Trumpaladin would mentioned Medina in some of his later speeches, when speaking on the situation on the US Mexico border. He wished he could have told the audiences how well Medina played Football that day; how he loved the sport as did Trump.
The football, the same football Medina carried across the goal line twice that game, was probably the only physical memento that Trump had of Medina. Really, it was one of the few he had remaining relics of the two years of his life he spent in CBP. And he gave it to Tracy. He truly did give up a piece of his soul when he handed it to her. But that was okay, because he had given up far more to his country, or for his career. Certainly, Medina gave far more. He knew that delivering the ball was probably for nothing, and that that football would probably remain in Tracy’s room indefinitely, cluttering up a corner. Worse, it may form a part of some bizarre shrine, its true use never appreciated. But that was also okay. Over the years, Trump became used to vain sacrifice. So many times he removed criminal immigrants just to see them come right back again. The man suspected to have killed Medina was himself removed three times. And Trump had equally fought against corrupt politicians and sports announcers just to see them come back again and again. But that was okay, because he had done all he was able. He did all he could to stop the bad hombres. He did all he could to fight against the corruption of the NFL, and he did all he could to stop the globalists in his time. So when he failed, and it all came to nothing, he could say he was admirable. He played a good game. So too, it will not be his fault when Tracy turns.
He thought about Port Barry. He told them to gather the bodies – the bodies of those who did not make it to safety – and burry them in the monastery. Tomorrow he would assess the damage to the structures, and determine how much of the town needed to be torn down, and how many of his own buildings were damaged. For a moment, the thought crossed into his mind that Port Barry was attacked while he was away on a fruitless expedition. Medina was killed on a day he had taken off. But the thought was banished from his mind. He thought about Thez, how she disappeared, and how she had sealed the outsiders away forever. Such meaningfulness in her sacrifice, He wish his own death had accomplished as much, or that he could have done as much service to the citizens of Port Barry. They’ll have their own new football tomorrow, and he hoped to make this new one count.
>>10610
That was awesome. Well done. One good turn then 'eh?
The character who would eventually come to be known as Thez logistically began just short of 30 years ago, on OP's 8th birthday. He could wax idiotic about what was happening at the time, the events of the day as they unfolded (it wasn't a good day even before this next bit) but long story short, his closest and most dear friend and her mother were killed by a drunk driver while en route to his birthday party. Birthdays have never been the same since.
A few years later he would find himself in a new state, at a new school, and it was his birthday again. His teacher had a tradition of having all students tell everyone about themselves, answer questions, and allow everyone to get to know them on their birthday. The class would take this information and write a short paragraph about the student in question, and most students loved the attention and would readily soak up the opportunity to tell everyone all about themselves. Instead, OP had a nervous breakdown (Thez' loss was not the only shitty thing that had happened). 9 year olds were not supposed to have nervous breakdowns in class, so this garnered attention.
Around this time he was introduced to D&D 2nd edition, and the "really nice lady" who met with him once a week encouraged him to explore the potential of a world that he could create, which he took to with great enthusiasm. He had a few successful and unsuccessful characters, all of whom ended up dying or languishing cuz boring. Then, during a campaign with older and (to him) newer players, they killed off his favorite character in a death trap. He'd never experienced D&D death traps, but these older guys were into that, and when he enthusiastically offered to challenge the narrow passage that they were presented with, the DM killed him quickly and finally, and had the gaul to hang his character sheet on the wall like a trophy.
The DM told him he could make a new character, but they would start off at 1st level, and with nothing. Not consciously aware of what he was doing, OP asked if the character could be slightly different. He wanted to play a 1/2 elf, 1/2 dwarf character. The DM thought for a moment and said "Ok, but no stat modifiers."
Op looked through the book of Dwarves that was piled on the table, looked through the list of names and said "Okay. Her name is GIlana".
Gilana de Fatima Korragar al Thez, as she would fully emerge, was OPs favorite character from that point on. She's the only character who has never died, as well as the only character who has killed another character, legitimately and with cause.
As she has experienced and developed, she has taken on all sorts of proportions new. She's Nightcrawler meets Deadpool meets Lady Death, meets,.... Its kinda ridiculous how many literary and media references and influences OP has piled into her.
In time his gaming ceased and he lived his life to the best of his ability. He found a career, established a household with an incredibly understanding young woman who is an oldest of oldfags (we're talking a 4chan.net oldfag), and ultimately forgot about Thez. Then one day his spouse purchased a used D&D 3.5ed book set from a garage sale.
That was about 3 years ago.
1/2
That was awesome. Well done. One good turn then 'eh?
The character who would eventually come to be known as Thez logistically began just short of 30 years ago, on OP's 8th birthday. He could wax idiotic about what was happening at the time, the events of the day as they unfolded (it wasn't a good day even before this next bit) but long story short, his closest and most dear friend and her mother were killed by a drunk driver while en route to his birthday party. Birthdays have never been the same since.
A few years later he would find himself in a new state, at a new school, and it was his birthday again. His teacher had a tradition of having all students tell everyone about themselves, answer questions, and allow everyone to get to know them on their birthday. The class would take this information and write a short paragraph about the student in question, and most students loved the attention and would readily soak up the opportunity to tell everyone all about themselves. Instead, OP had a nervous breakdown (Thez' loss was not the only shitty thing that had happened). 9 year olds were not supposed to have nervous breakdowns in class, so this garnered attention.
Around this time he was introduced to D&D 2nd edition, and the "really nice lady" who met with him once a week encouraged him to explore the potential of a world that he could create, which he took to with great enthusiasm. He had a few successful and unsuccessful characters, all of whom ended up dying or languishing cuz boring. Then, during a campaign with older and (to him) newer players, they killed off his favorite character in a death trap. He'd never experienced D&D death traps, but these older guys were into that, and when he enthusiastically offered to challenge the narrow passage that they were presented with, the DM killed him quickly and finally, and had the gaul to hang his character sheet on the wall like a trophy.
The DM told him he could make a new character, but they would start off at 1st level, and with nothing. Not consciously aware of what he was doing, OP asked if the character could be slightly different. He wanted to play a 1/2 elf, 1/2 dwarf character. The DM thought for a moment and said "Ok, but no stat modifiers."
Op looked through the book of Dwarves that was piled on the table, looked through the list of names and said "Okay. Her name is GIlana".
Gilana de Fatima Korragar al Thez, as she would fully emerge, was OPs favorite character from that point on. She's the only character who has never died, as well as the only character who has killed another character, legitimately and with cause.
As she has experienced and developed, she has taken on all sorts of proportions new. She's Nightcrawler meets Deadpool meets Lady Death, meets,.... Its kinda ridiculous how many literary and media references and influences OP has piled into her.
In time his gaming ceased and he lived his life to the best of his ability. He found a career, established a household with an incredibly understanding young woman who is an oldest of oldfags (we're talking a 4chan.net oldfag), and ultimately forgot about Thez. Then one day his spouse purchased a used D&D 3.5ed book set from a garage sale.
That was about 3 years ago.
1/2
OP knew nothing of 4chan - I mean he knew OF it but never bothered to visit 'cuz the reputation he'd heard was "Watch out for the child porn" - nor the first thing about Tulpas, but as soon as he opened the books he immediately remembered Gilana and all her adventures. But being not your average character and being something of a reflection of him, she had taken on new proportions and aspects in a parallel of how his life had developed. So for kicks, OP started to play again, first by himself and later incorporating others. At first it became a hobby to him, guiding Gilana through all sorts of adventures and circumstances, relying solely on the dice and his imagination to explain what, how, etc.
She wandered through Limbo, the Abyss, the 9 Hells, Tartarus, and so on. Eventually he exhausted all the available options of the prescribed worlds and dimensions, had run through most of the creatures in the Monster's Manual. So then he decided to make a world where she could inhabit that was a synthesis of all the worlds and dimension, somewhere where there was some of everything. Somewhere where when a character died they were brought to to live on. This was all very Freudian, and if he had been psycho-analyzing at the time he would have (and later did) say "Oh, that's why".
He would eventually find his way to 4chan during the Republican primaries, would lurk and occasionally post but mostly just browse.
And then in time April fools day happened.
Its important to note that the young girl who he'd known as a child was a huge fan of 80's MLP. She insisted they play MLP even though he knew nor cared for it (his favorite was TMNT). So when 4/mlpol/ happened, he discovered some things and rediscovered others.
He rediscovered a deeply buried part of himself that he regretted having put away, and he discovered a place where not only was he welcomed, but SHE was as well. They had a NAME for what she was, and it was not a bad thing or a dirty secret but something to be recognized and appreciated. And now, here on Mlpol.net, though OP is quite certain that there are detractors in the audience lulzing their asses off, he finds that there is something here that he didn't even think was possible. Thez (her infernal mother made 2 conditions for her leaving Hell with the 2 stones, one of which was adopting the name Thez) had friends. SHE had people who were important to her.
And so it should come as no surprise that though it will take an indeterminate amount of time (time is different in the outer realms) and who knows how OP is gonna figure out how it works (cuz the wish was pretty explicit), at this very moment there is a purple and pink streak tearing through armies with purpose and wild abandon.
"GTFO my way! I've got somewhere to be!"
Now. the stone of Law and Chaos are hidden in a compartment in one of her garters. Its a combination lock, so don't expect to get anywhere with that, but neither will they be detected or will anyone come looking for them.
The 'garter belt' is actually a Girdle of Cloud Giant strength, and the stone Infernius ate is a durpey ioun stone of regeneration. It doesn't fly properly like an ioun stone should, it just kinda rolls around requiring it to be contained (usually in hand, but she found eating it to be more effective). I called it the durpey stone before I'd watched MLP btw Xp.
Thats all for now!
She wandered through Limbo, the Abyss, the 9 Hells, Tartarus, and so on. Eventually he exhausted all the available options of the prescribed worlds and dimensions, had run through most of the creatures in the Monster's Manual. So then he decided to make a world where she could inhabit that was a synthesis of all the worlds and dimension, somewhere where there was some of everything. Somewhere where when a character died they were brought to to live on. This was all very Freudian, and if he had been psycho-analyzing at the time he would have (and later did) say "Oh, that's why".
He would eventually find his way to 4chan during the Republican primaries, would lurk and occasionally post but mostly just browse.
And then in time April fools day happened.
Its important to note that the young girl who he'd known as a child was a huge fan of 80's MLP. She insisted they play MLP even though he knew nor cared for it (his favorite was TMNT). So when 4/mlpol/ happened, he discovered some things and rediscovered others.
He rediscovered a deeply buried part of himself that he regretted having put away, and he discovered a place where not only was he welcomed, but SHE was as well. They had a NAME for what she was, and it was not a bad thing or a dirty secret but something to be recognized and appreciated. And now, here on Mlpol.net, though OP is quite certain that there are detractors in the audience lulzing their asses off, he finds that there is something here that he didn't even think was possible. Thez (her infernal mother made 2 conditions for her leaving Hell with the 2 stones, one of which was adopting the name Thez) had friends. SHE had people who were important to her.
And so it should come as no surprise that though it will take an indeterminate amount of time (time is different in the outer realms) and who knows how OP is gonna figure out how it works (cuz the wish was pretty explicit), at this very moment there is a purple and pink streak tearing through armies with purpose and wild abandon.
"GTFO my way! I've got somewhere to be!"
Now. the stone of Law and Chaos are hidden in a compartment in one of her garters. Its a combination lock, so don't expect to get anywhere with that, but neither will they be detected or will anyone come looking for them.
The 'garter belt' is actually a Girdle of Cloud Giant strength, and the stone Infernius ate is a durpey ioun stone of regeneration. It doesn't fly properly like an ioun stone should, it just kinda rolls around requiring it to be contained (usually in hand, but she found eating it to be more effective). I called it the durpey stone before I'd watched MLP btw Xp.
Thats all for now!
Okay, after looking into the prestige classes, it's actually just bullshit for Tracy to level up as a Slayer and Elocater while being something else because of the "Powers Known" trait: she could take the classes, but she'd have to choose which abilities to manifest.
Guardian Paramount was the class the Flowcharts call for in the Good Ending, so forget about the Spring Attack feat and take the Feats of Blinding Speed, Superior Initiative, and Lightning Reflexes.
Guardian Paramount was the class the Flowcharts call for in the Good Ending, so forget about the Spring Attack feat and take the Feats of Blinding Speed, Superior Initiative, and Lightning Reflexes.
The bracers for Torcuil have a permanent Shield spell affixed to them, which in addition to granting a +2 to AC, cause an invisible tower-shield of force to hover with the player, direct-able by thought (no hands!). The two rings (I forgot one of them) are Defense +3, and Climbing+5/Jumping+10.
There is also an ear-cuff of Blinking (same as ring) which causes the wearer to strobe granting a 50% chance of incoming attacks to miss entirely.
Amongst Tracy's stuff (in addition to the raw gold and gems) are:
The golden dragon tiara-thing that blinks
A butterfly hairpin that flaps its wings
A ladybug that crawls around on the wearer (Cha +2)
Dozens of rings, necklaces, circlets, etc.
2 oversized tarot cards, all gilt and gems, of the Queen of Staves and the Queen of Swords
Oh, and I forgot to mention the Mask as well. The mask is a Mask of Disguise +10, granting whatever illusion the wearer desires.
Also for Infernius is an Endless Bandage. Its the stamp-roll thing, and its never ending. It would be great for TPing someone's house.
I'm reasonably certain that that's all, but don't quote me on that.
There is also an ear-cuff of Blinking (same as ring) which causes the wearer to strobe granting a 50% chance of incoming attacks to miss entirely.
Amongst Tracy's stuff (in addition to the raw gold and gems) are:
The golden dragon tiara-thing that blinks
A butterfly hairpin that flaps its wings
A ladybug that crawls around on the wearer (Cha +2)
Dozens of rings, necklaces, circlets, etc.
2 oversized tarot cards, all gilt and gems, of the Queen of Staves and the Queen of Swords
Oh, and I forgot to mention the Mask as well. The mask is a Mask of Disguise +10, granting whatever illusion the wearer desires.
Also for Infernius is an Endless Bandage. Its the stamp-roll thing, and its never ending. It would be great for TPing someone's house.
I'm reasonably certain that that's all, but don't quote me on that.
BTW, I totally nerfed the Soros fight. It was gonna be long and drawn out, and super exhaustive/ing, but when we got to him I found that I was super exhausted. It would have been a battle of attrition, but even if ppl died they would have lived cuz Thez has the random stick. I was gonna make everyone work for it, but the outcome was kinda inevitable anyway cuz Thez is herself a Deus Ex Machina.
Now, Lenos is still around (he's no slouch), and Slag is somewhere in the periphery, but from this point on there are no safety nets. Trump tower has an Entertron which heals/revives anyone placed in it (but you're still hungry), and Trump will probably want to get to work throwing deceased civilians in there. That said, I'm going to be getting more creative with these sessions, as I won't be split between deciding what Thez wants to do while determining what is happening.
Now, Lenos is still around (he's no slouch), and Slag is somewhere in the periphery, but from this point on there are no safety nets. Trump tower has an Entertron which heals/revives anyone placed in it (but you're still hungry), and Trump will probably want to get to work throwing deceased civilians in there. That said, I'm going to be getting more creative with these sessions, as I won't be split between deciding what Thez wants to do while determining what is happening.
>>10619
Can Tracy try a diplomacy check with the residents of the Hive to see if they could help her excavate one of those caves in the mountain into a secret lair?
Can Tracy try a diplomacy check with the residents of the Hive to see if they could help her excavate one of those caves in the mountain into a secret lair?
Basically, the players have about 3 weeks of 'interim' game time to decide what developments they want to apply to their characters, and what additions they want to apply to the world and their environment. As port Barry is rebuilt, new buildings, stores, and resources can be made to order (within reason) and established. Players can rp or describe what is/will/has happened, whichever they prefer. Also, though there are 2 rules expressly forbidding it, word around the Port (especially in light of last night's events and the sudden participation of the ne'er do wells) tells of a Fight Club, something Thez started weeks ago when the party first liberated the city from the rats. ^_~
>>10624
Tracy gathers up a few books on Foosball, divegrass, dungeoneering, and anything else that seems useful, and heads off to the Hive.
Tracy gathers up a few books on Foosball, divegrass, dungeoneering, and anything else that seems useful, and heads off to the Hive.
>>10629
Uhm, I mean for the ants. They don't have mouths, and they lost their potato. Also, Thez taught Ponimaru a few tricks. She's the one who brought him back btw, and after a few unscripted interactions she took him as an apprentice.
She IS a grandmaster monk after all.
Uhm, I mean for the ants. They don't have mouths, and they lost their potato. Also, Thez taught Ponimaru a few tricks. She's the one who brought him back btw, and after a few unscripted interactions she took him as an apprentice.
She IS a grandmaster monk after all.
>>10630
>took him as her apprentice
So what you're saying is, he won't just run and scream like a bitch when he sees Tracy again?
I kept meaning to make him a soccer ball out of the skin on his butt as a consolation gift (he wouldn't know what it was), but Trollestia kept getting in the way..
>took him as her apprentice
So what you're saying is, he won't just run and scream like a bitch when he sees Tracy again?
I kept meaning to make him a soccer ball out of the skin on his butt as a consolation gift (he wouldn't know what it was), but Trollestia kept getting in the way..
>>10632
*scoffs*
Well, when they do meet, Tracy would probably have a set hierarchy in her mind (getting 1-shot K.O'd knocks you down on the totem pole).
*scoffs*
Well, when they do meet, Tracy would probably have a set hierarchy in her mind (getting 1-shot K.O'd knocks you down on the totem pole).
>>10633
Were you wanting to 'game' an interaction with the ants, or were you asking to determine possibility?
Were you wanting to 'game' an interaction with the ants, or were you asking to determine possibility?
>>10636
I was more wondering if you wanted to RP the exchange or was simply getting it done your interest?
I was more wondering if you wanted to RP the exchange or was simply getting it done your interest?
>>10638
I gotta do stuff for the next few hours, but I'm not exactly sure what I'll do atm..
I assumed Tracy would first have to butter-up the ants to get them to help her out; maybe impress them with foosball knowledge.
I gotta do stuff for the next few hours, but I'm not exactly sure what I'll do atm..
I assumed Tracy would first have to butter-up the ants to get them to help her out; maybe impress them with foosball knowledge.
>>10639
That would certainly impress them, but since they don't have a Queen anymore and aren't working to keep her safe/cozy/pregnant all the time (not to mention catering to her every whim cuz mind control), they would not be opposed to a side project. They're excellent diggers and engineers, and they feel they owe the party anyway, their quality of life has shot through the roof since she got squished.
That would certainly impress them, but since they don't have a Queen anymore and aren't working to keep her safe/cozy/pregnant all the time (not to mention catering to her every whim cuz mind control), they would not be opposed to a side project. They're excellent diggers and engineers, and they feel they owe the party anyway, their quality of life has shot through the roof since she got squished.
>>10641
Well, the only restriction would be technological, as ants don't use tech or tools at all. Other than that, I look forward to seeing what you come up with.
Well, the only restriction would be technological, as ants don't use tech or tools at all. Other than that, I look forward to seeing what you come up with.
>>10642
I suck at planning shit... I'll try though.
No tech needed though, mostly just lots of dark, private, secretive space.
I suck at planning shit... I'll try though.
No tech needed though, mostly just lots of dark, private, secretive space.
>>10643
Perhaps you mean "I've had less success with planning things in the past."
Take your time, try not to get frustrated or discouraged. ^_^
Perhaps you mean "I've had less success with planning things in the past."
Take your time, try not to get frustrated or discouraged. ^_^
>>10619
>Trump tower has an Entertron which heals/revives anyone placed in it... and Trump will probably want to get to work throwing deceased civilians in there.
Tell me more!
>>10631
>>10627
I saw that! I will end you you globalist shill
>>10630
Can the ants be conscripted to do manual labor for purposes besides building a bat cave?
>>10626
>As port Barry is rebuilt, new buildings, stores, and resources can be made to order (within reason) and established
Okay, this is what I really want and need. I need a damage report on Port Barry
>Trump tower has an Entertron which heals/revives anyone placed in it... and Trump will probably want to get to work throwing deceased civilians in there.
Tell me more!
>>10631
>>10627
I saw that! I will end you you globalist shill
>>10630
Can the ants be conscripted to do manual labor for purposes besides building a bat cave?
>>10626
>As port Barry is rebuilt, new buildings, stores, and resources can be made to order (within reason) and established
Okay, this is what I really want and need. I need a damage report on Port Barry
>>10645
Well, its a booth, and whoever is put in it is restored to life and full health (eliminating status ailments, etc.). Its basically an instant revive, except at least one person has to be alive enough to get anyone there (so if everyone dies, GM has to get creative) putting the ball more in the players' court.
The ants can be conscripted to do labor, in fact that's what they're good at. For a larger-scale project they would probably require some sort of incentive or remuneration, and also note that they don't know the first thing about aesthetics.
Alot of the damage is superficial, with over half the buildings showing fire damage. Still, some of the inner buildings have been entirely reduced to rubble. The sticky wicket has been entirely spared, because Thez liked the place and performed an unhallow on the place (so when invading, the demons and devils were like "Hey, this place is kinda nice. We'll leave this one"), as is the Rusty Duck, which was a rallying point for many of the civilians and a point from which the people began to fight back. Also the brothel was untouched, as well as the rich neighborhood simply 'cuz there weren't really any people there (no victims = boring).
Well, its a booth, and whoever is put in it is restored to life and full health (eliminating status ailments, etc.). Its basically an instant revive, except at least one person has to be alive enough to get anyone there (so if everyone dies, GM has to get creative) putting the ball more in the players' court.
The ants can be conscripted to do labor, in fact that's what they're good at. For a larger-scale project they would probably require some sort of incentive or remuneration, and also note that they don't know the first thing about aesthetics.
Alot of the damage is superficial, with over half the buildings showing fire damage. Still, some of the inner buildings have been entirely reduced to rubble. The sticky wicket has been entirely spared, because Thez liked the place and performed an unhallow on the place (so when invading, the demons and devils were like "Hey, this place is kinda nice. We'll leave this one"), as is the Rusty Duck, which was a rallying point for many of the civilians and a point from which the people began to fight back. Also the brothel was untouched, as well as the rich neighborhood simply 'cuz there weren't really any people there (no victims = boring).
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