April 14, 2017 at 4:15 pm #144826
In the ‘mysterious helpers’ category, the poverty-stricken cobbler’s nightly visitor was interesting. Why would he have been good at making shoes, but have no shoes or clothes of his own? I think reasonably, he was motivated to make soft-soled shoes VERY well because of an innate fear of winding up underneath them . . .
The mystery of the oviparian Oryctolagus–SOLVED!
April 29, 2017 at 3:38 pm #144983
- This reply was modified 2 years, 4 months ago by Herr D.
“Hey, Why Does That Guy’s Camera Look Like A Paintbrush?”
People fear their perspective changing because they know the world will never look the same again . . . The only way to avoid this fear is to CONSTANTLY change your perspective. Most people find this process too disagreeable or scary, or something, I guess. What must it be like to be so rooted?
The top dancers at Bice’s Nightclub, or, ‘the Bice Squad,’ are infamous for out-performing Broadway performers and top cheerleaders after two rehearsals. The music, however, is the real star of the show.
May 6, 2017 at 3:53 pm #145121
- This reply was modified 2 years, 3 months ago by Herr D.
Mr. Quimby didn’t fit in with the community on Junebug Hill St. He didn’t come out to celebrate block parties in the cul-de-sac. He didn’t bring any plants outside from his upstairs, indoor hothouse. He only left his house to deliver his horticulture projects to his individual clients.
When the neighborhood association approached him, he told them that not only would he NEVER join, he was going to sue them if his neighbors couldn’t stop their dogs from breaking down their inferior fences and getting onto his lawn. He said they dug up his lawn a lot and caused problems with runoff. He hated all the barking at night anyway.
The neighborhood association rebuffed him, saying that all the good lawyers in town were on their side. Further, that his lawn was just grass, so why all the fuss? It was their own fences being broken and their own lawns receiving the runoff. Why would he worry about it anyway?
He said he’d been wanting to put a plant or two outside, but didn’t want to because dogs would likely tear them up. Besides, they might be mildly poisonous, and he didn’t want to be responsible.
The neighborhood association said to put some out. That it would be their own fault. Hadn’t he warned them? They gave it to him in writing.
He put out a plant on his back patio. He said it was a new species named the ‘rainbow eye shrub.’ . . . there are a few dogs missing . . . but all’s well, right?
May 26, 2017 at 12:56 am #145553
- This reply was modified 2 years, 3 months ago by Herr D.
Nice flowers, check the contest!May 27, 2017 at 6:24 pm #145579
The Nefer hacker whose codename has not yet been made public was forbidden to remain within range of any technology. So naturally, he was shipped off to TZ6058604A, the penal colony. His ship crashed and sank on TZ6058604B. It’s a bronze age level civilization on a planet with no iron or aluminum mining capability. They’ve harbored escapees and mutineers from everywhere, so the alien mix is as diverse as the penal colony. The Nefer in question IS humanoid, and so stands out a bit.
This fighter is one of the Spiky Decapods from Ghru. These guys have twelve eyes, ten tentacles, two to eight spikes per tentacle, weigh about 200 lb., and can’t get dizzy.
Slashing or stabbing to opponent like half damage of a spiked chain, treat an attack to hit like five whips from a master. AGL20DEX17STR14WIS8STR8CON5 Naturally has ‘uncanny dodge.’ Excellent mercs and infantry.
May 28, 2017 at 12:35 pm #145613
- This reply was modified 2 years, 2 months ago by Herr D.
That is not a fellow I’d like to meet in a dark alley. I really like it. I appreciate its sense of anatomy.June 3, 2017 at 4:30 pm #145699
Thank you, Vampirist. Fortunately, they don’t like cities much.
Lalantie is an example of an elemental mage from Sufia, commonly called a Renaturer. This is an example of her ethereal form, where she cannot be harmed physically. Here she is trying to visualize perfect balance through her stardance. The goal would be to control all four elements as necessary for the equivalent length of her concentration in this form. She rolls three d20 + 5 for the number of rounds, a d8 (4 and above count as four,) and a d20 for the number of hundredweight in each element she can control. A critical roll means five thousandweight. Lalantie is a Renaturer graduate in her realm from an apprenticeship to Sufian legend Tandratu. She is appointed to lead a small group of travelers, non-powered, through the dream-marshes to the safety of Castle Joiga. INI20DEX11AGL9WIS18CON6CHA13 Magery stats: MEM16MAG12PSI14ELM17
June 10, 2017 at 7:41 am #145776
- This reply was modified 2 years, 2 months ago by Herr D.
“Tonight the part of Short Round will be played by a stocky Chippewa in a nun’s habit.”–said our GM on realizing this character’s intent.
This is Mr. Strait in a situation I played him in. It was a modified Deadlands system with custom characters. (Deadlands is essentially a western with undead, magic, supercoal, and steampunk.)
Mr. Strait has the weaknesses of facial disfiguration, having been attacked by a ghoulie covered with flaming turpentine, and needing more food than most by 50%. He is also wanted for deserting both the Union and the Confederacy. His advantages include Sense Object / Machine Weaknesses (+12) and stealing (Pickpocket, Sleight Of Hand, Misdirect, Conceal Obj / Self, AND Timing at +6) for use Mad Scientist Plans. He uses horseshoes a lot with his tendency to Unintended Use (+8,) including as prybars, makeshift armor, ranged and melee weapons. His experience points were mostly used to upgrade his stats, as you might guess. STR11INT18WIS14CHA7CON16WIL17AGL19DEX16STEA20RXN19
“Amateur Night, Lavender Lounge, Deck 3” Her singing was always awful, and her playing was even worse. But complaining is less boring than travel, so people went and listened anyway . . .
*OPMCJune 17, 2017 at 7:46 pm #145909
“Juker, Cleric Of Chaos”
Originally an NPC designed as a one-off ‘damage sponge,’ a GM requested him to be played ‘for real.’
Juker is a cleric in two senses: He is a priest of a minor god of chaos, Riv, the Lone Survivor of the Apocalypse of the Previous Realm. He is also sort of an unknowing shakedown artist. He appeals to other very materialistic clerics to heal his own party by threatening to destroy valuables, magic items, etc. What he wields is the Ever-Changing Mace Of The Stuff Of Creation, which can harm NO LIVING THING. It gives a pleasant nap with weird dreams to whoever he hits with it and takes no hit points. One hit will cause random types of damage between 23 and 69 points to an object and its material surroundings. One point to the constitution of his party for every 100 points of destruction. 1d2 for the ability to swing it each attempt. It also provides him with triple the armor equivalent of banded mail and up to six saving throws per encounter / natural disaster. Which is good, considering his stats are really horrible.
“I’ll save you!”-Juker. “No, please don’t–allow me.”-Other side’s cleric.
“I’M the droid they’re looking for!” Droid 7391 (yes, look at the number upside-down) was originally programmed to be a regular custom service droid on a planet far, far away. Specifically, a brothel. Then an Imperial technician decided, as a joke, to program him with the ability to banter with opponents while teaching them techniques against those using -uh- ‘laser swords.’ A warrior at one with the shadows stepped out for just a moment, stooped, and went away.
Then Droid 7391 started WINNING the fights and shutting down to prevent injury to a a living being. It had been programmed to believe that it WAS one of those special warriors, maintaining a disguise by use of -uh- ‘psychic access to powers of good.’ They locked him in a store room till they could figure out how to reprogram it. It made a cloud of stun droids and escaped in the ensuing mayhem. It seeks to join the rebellion.
Ouch! Real life, leave me ALONE!
*NaJ/SJuly 8, 2017 at 6:22 pm #146410July 21, 2017 at 2:00 pm #146725
Dis was a match made not in heaven, but in Joisey, eh?!
“When Dapper Danny Met Flapper Fanny”
*wingsAugust 7, 2017 at 5:44 pm #147051
“The Opposed” originally, “The Team,” are more than vigilantes, they are more of a powered citizens’ watch. They catch criminals in the act, subdue them without harm, and leave them unable to escape with evidence against them. Then they leave, summoning the authorities.
‘Dwight’ is a nickname for the Dragon Tattoo Without A Girl. It is an infiltrator, interrogator, and extra hand. ‘Lefty,’ a frequent amputee, has a regrowable and a psychic right hand. He is an infiltrator, undercover, defender, and expediter. ‘Splat’ is a skilled acrobat and a damage sponge. ‘Dorian’ is a new kind of healer as well as the team’s IT department. ‘The Magic Bullet’ is a tiny shape-changer. It is a sentient tool and the team’s informal leader and mascot.
Had some technical difficulties. Intending to post to contest–try again later. Backstory in next post.August 8, 2017 at 7:13 am #147077
Dwight, The Dragon Tattoo Without A Girl; Dorian; Lefty; Splat; The Magic Bullet
“Mary” & “John” had been circus employees. They were unemployed, and in the market for matching tattoos. He’d stolen some ink from a tattoo parlor, and they were at the zoo, arguing whether a camel was manly enough to be on his skin forever, when a force of armed men took them hostage in the reptile house. Neither had seen that the vials the men were filling with reptile DNA looked very like the vials of tattoo ink he had in his pockets. Ever the entertainers, the former circus couple tried to calm some of the other hostages by pulling out six vials to juggle them. One of the armed men, in the darkness of the reptile house, made the wrong conclusion. After the couple were confronted, beaten a bit, and shown the other vials, they temporarily escaped the armed men with some of the tattoo ink and some of the reptile DNA. “John” was shot through the right shoulder in front of the zoo’s office.
Inside the office was Doreen (other names redacted.)She was seventeen and just wanted a scholarship to a good college so she could become a computer engineer. She was already doing advanced IT work to save up for college, after all. She was updating her local zoo’s office the summer between her junior and senior year of high school, when her boyfriend, a zoo enthusiast, had burst in to exclaim that some armed men had taken the zoo.
A single bullet came through the window, instantly killing her boyfriend and piercing the base of her skull, non-lethally. (A doctor later explained that her ability to process pain signals was permanently damaged.) Immediately afterwards four substances permeated the office, two of them having been aerosolized by the same bullet. No one noticed.
A month later, Doreen had partly rebounded. She had turned eighteen and was faking pain reactions in BDSM porn online in hopes of saving for college faster. She had always hated her name, pornography, and BDSM and all its trappings, but was always masked, so no one would know her. It hadn’t dawned on her that she was physically healing much faster these days. “John” and “Mary” suddenly visited her. Lefty, as “John” now goes by, he had been a magician and a juggler in the circus, and “Mary” had been a high-wire and trapeze artist. His right arm now sometimes comes off, dissolves, and regrows, and he now has minor telekinesis. He can do approximately whatever his right arm could have done without the ordinary limitations of having a physical arm. “Mary” can now heal her rare injuries at a surprising speed, having been dusted slightly by two substances already in the air that were activated as “John” was shot beside her.
The armed men at the zoo had successfully stolen a “healing substance” from one hidden lab and some alien nanites from another. The rogue government agent responsible never revealed his intentions. He and his men were quietly captured and taken away by an unnamed government agency, not to be heard of again. No one noticed that the container of alien nanites had leaked or that the nanites had removed a stoppered flask of “healing substance” and aerated it, following the action.
Splat, as “Mary” now goes by, motivated the group to become a minor hero team. They stop crimes, subdue the criminals, and leave, calling emergency services as they escape, occasionally providing footage and other proof to law enforcement.
Who brought them together? A semi-sentient dragon tattoo, nicknamed Dwight, was formed by the nanites, tattoo ink, healing factor, and reptile DNA, and it waited, unbidden, on Splat’s back until noticed by Lefty. The Magic Bullet, self-named, gained sentience as it waited, secretly embedded in a zoo computer. These two emergent beings brought the group together. As near as they can figure, the nanites were fully activated by the original bullet being shot through living tissue, and they responded as best they could to the information at hand. Their faint ‘racial’ nanite memories are mostly of mind-numbingly long space travel and mind-numbing boredom at containment.
Dwight is a natural infiltrator, more comfortable on female bodies. The Magic Bullet can form itself into keys, temporary simple electronic parts, and some very small tools. Doreen gained an unusual gift: under certain conditions, she can transfer damage from a person in a picture to herself and then heal from it. This prompted her to start going by Dorian, after the literary character Dorian Gray.
They are united not just in purpose and world view, but also in cause of formation.August 13, 2017 at 1:18 am #147158
Bart and Art had a moment this morning. They own a ranch, and are trying to sell it, but not to a certain family–some bad blood there.August 17, 2017 at 12:16 pm #147223
The litigants successfully presented the case of fraud before the court, and the defense agreed to a settlement during a recess. The supermodel in question publicly denounced the idea that she had ever had reconstructive surgery, hair replacement, skin grafts, or even orthodontia.
Her fingerprints on the pauan shell necklace were never explained.
*opmc–I would have liked more time with this picture. The pauan shell necklace were the eyes of the Schmoo-companion.
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