#w this prompt. so!! letsgo!
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becauseplot · 1 year ago
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i woke up at 5am :'D it's ok tho im officially coherent enough to form words letsgo
"I am genuinely not as bad in these fandoms as I have been in some." Goddamn so something worse than child endangerment and child torture. Okay (<-FEAR) And yeah makes sense, Ordem Paranormal already has enough character death, no need to add to it lmfao. And yeah whump as a form of venting is soooo real. If I was more comfortable writing needless whump, I'd definitely do it more often. Love putting my guys in the angst blender after a hard day. My problem is like "ohhh I'd love to do terrible things to this character unprompted" and "okay so what should I do to them?" and then [crickets]. Whump prompts work sometimes, but figuring out the Situation that gets the character to the whump is a struggle somehow lmfao. It's a lot of fun when I can manage it tho.
Yea yea yea, you get to fill in the gaps! And having Lucie's death simply narrated to you (with an amazing backing track tbf), describing how she was slowly torn limb from limb, hearing her lower spine break, how she felt all of it, was conscious for all of it... It's a level of detail that you can't get in a purely visual medium (in this, you know exactly what is happening to her and what she's feeling, you are immersed in her experience) but at the same time, without explicit visuals to guide/distract you, you are forced to imagine all of this on your own. It makes your mind fill in the gaps! For me, watching it was definitely one of those experiences where I was like, "Wow this was absolutely devastating and my brain chemistry will be altered forever and I will not be sleeping tonight. Fantastic writing 10/10 would watch again."
(Yeah the subtitles on op and osnf are incredible, the fact they distinguish between IC and OOC. Epic.)
God yeah the way that the players balance IC and OOC knowledge. I think I've mentioned before (maybe??) that I adore the way that the players will put being in-character before "winning the game" in every single decision. Countless times, the players will known better, but they honor their characters and only act in how they think their characters would act. Can't think of a specific example but it happens a Lot. And yes, Arthur does deserve better than this. Obsessed with the theme of being unable to unsee/unlive/unlearn whenever a character comes into contact with the Paranormal, as I talked about with Thiago's hearing loss earlier. Once you're in it, you're in it. You can't go back to a normal life afterwards. Cursed by knowledge. You either end up working for the Order, end up insane, or you end up dead because...what else are you going to do? The horrors will follow you now. And Arthur has literally nothing left except for Ivete and her bar which she can't afford to keep open anymore.
Assuming Arthur survives this series (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE), I'd love to see him as a recurring character with the Order. Even if he only gets cameos/references, I want to see how he might fit in with everyone else, if he finds his place there like Liz and Thiago have (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE).
Fhjdfj yeah it's like that princes bride meme. "This qsmp au still has potions!" "Oh, so you'll use them to make the characters feel better, right?" ":)" "So you'll use them to make the characters feel better, right." (I mean I am still healing them! The potions are in fact healing them! You can't deny that! (Unless it's that fuck-you-bleed-forever-idiot potion you mentioned.))
The one time a high roll on healing kinda sucked ^-^; I'm happy to hear your Words once I get caught up.
(Cultish is right what the fuck is goin on here.)
Ohh neat. Just so I can understand, you n your team(?) host these sessions and ppl come play? Like how does this actually work lmfao. You don't need to respond w anything in-depth if you don't want to I'm just curious. I know like nothing abt larp apart from like that one scene in Hawkeye where Clint has to work with some larpers and he gets roped into "fighting" them. (<-barely remembers this series)
Yeah I'm the same way with minecraft. I barely ever play it but I lovelovelovelove working game mechanics into my fics and also just the world building and the way that the "story" in the game is told almost purely by environment alone and and and!!! For the record I once wrote a (small) essay about the Minecraft End Poem and how it relates to Mysticism for one of my classes. Let me reiterate, AN ESSAY. ABOUT BLOCK GAME. FOR MY CLASS. AT UNIVERSITY. THAT WAS WORTH A GOOD PORTION OF MY GRADE. (I got a good score on it and the professor liked it and the poem so much he said he might actually fold the Minecraft End Poem into his curriculum as another example of Mysticism in modern media, so we win these.) I'm normal about Minecraft I swear. I played a lot when I was younger, and I started playing probably around the same time as you maybe? Idk all I remember is that Enchanted Golden Apples were still craftable when I started and apparently that's Old.
Huh. If I think about it, I'm still playing in the world of Minecraft, just in a different way. Neat.
Bastille music!! They've certainly got a vibe. (Icarus still remains one of my favorites. The animatics in my head go crazy you don't even know.) (Face down on the floor you don't even know.) (Why did I have to choose to be a writer all the animations won't ever leave my brain.)
finished ep 10 of osnf (long post under the cut oh lord)
crying sobbing kicking over chairs screaming CELLBIT IS AN EVIL EVIL MAN WHY WOULD HE DO THAT. FOR WHAT REASON. POR CUAL RAZÓN. LO ODIO. <-said with the utmost adoration and respect of a writer but the fury of a fan who just had to endure all of that my hearttttt 0(-(
god fuck i have thoughts and feelings regarding episode 10 of osnf. obviously. i don't even know how to start.
okay. first of all the way that he was able to orchestrate the like 57839 different POVs of the nightmare happening at the same time was actually pretty smooth, all things considered. being able to forcibly mute/deafen the others is a good thing to be able to do yesyes.
second, im losing my mind over how he hides the fact that "it's all a dream" WITHIN the "it's all a dream" trope by having the creatures be manifestations of dreams/guilt in "reality" themselves. idk if i'm making any sense, but like, you get it, right? like, it's the fact that we thought we had already discovered the dream-based deceit in the segment because of what the "Hotelier" told Joui at the start of it, but it turns out that THAT was a red-herring of sorts for the TRUE dream-based deceit, that EVERYTHING was a dream, not just the creatures. god there are fucking layers to this im foaming at the mouth that's soooo good.
i guess that's what makes the "it's all a dream"-style trope present here feel less cliche. because, you know, it is a trope, and it's not really a trope that i'm fond of, but because there's actually more going on, it feels less cheap. what certainly helps is that the fact that it's roleplay, so the reactions from the characters are so much more raw, and there are some irl stakes (character dead = out of the series = can't play anymore). that definitely keeps you on the edge of your seat.
edit: something i forgot to mention—what i dislike abt the “it’s all a dream” trope the most is that it is very easily something that can be so, so cheap. all angst, no stakes or consequences, no lasting impact on the plot on the characters. however, not only is there a “physical” impact via several characters losing SHITLOADS of sanity (something not easily recovered) but we get to see a little more into the psyche of the characters. which i suppose is often the point of the “it’s all a dream” segments, but this dream—one with a lot of references to past major character death and itself contains major character death—rings especially true for the themes of the series: the world they live in is dangerous, and the work they do is lethal. people have and will die. and they do and will feel guilty, reguardless if they are at fault. it’s not a horrifying death dream just for the sake of being a death dream, it feels grounded in their reality, and i love that.
third, man he did not hold back. when Arthur was being beaten to a pulp by not!Brúlio, i was actually in shock, i was screaming. plus, i think the fact that Cellbit rolled a 001 when not!Brúlio attacked actually helped to hide the fact that this was a dream. it made it look like it was bad luck rather than the segment was designed to kill the characters (well, at least until he revealed that the damage was 1d4+1d6, but i'll get to that later).
gosh the narration of how not!Brúlio killed Arthur. holy shit. i don't. i don't even have words, that is DEVASTATING. that is probably one of the worst ways for a person to go. i know it's a dream but if i were Arthur i would be emotionally fucked up beyond belief. beaten to a bloody pulp by the father who once loved you so much, screaming at you for abandoning him and that it's your fault he died a horrible death. and then he drops your body on the ground like you're nothing but a pile of useless meat. god. damn.
and then Liz. ohhhh Liz. i just. i was devastated. her whole struggle with Alex, the man she treated so horribly. yes it's true the real Alex never would have said these things to you, but how do you know he wasn't thinking it? that he didn't want to? that what not!Alex says doesn't hold some truth? christttt. and of course the way she dies: in complete agony. and did she forgive herself? because, unlike with not!Brúlio, the creature turned into that weird wispy black thing just as she died, and i would assume that means she forgave herself (if those rules even apply considering this was all a result of the parasite's deceit (holy hell my brain is melting i am the man with the hand on the conspiracy board)).
fourth: the 1d4+1d6 thing! when he read that out, i was stunned. that is a LOT of damage considering all of the characters have ~10 HP. with an extreme roll, that's basically an insta-kill, or it's easily a two-hit-kill. i thought Arthur was unlucky, but when Liz also went down, i was---well, devastated, at first, because that's Liz, she's my absolute favorite and i love her, but i started going through all five stages of grief at once, and at some point i arrived at "no that can't be right" because Cellbit is a good writer. and to deliberately construct a scenario where it would be VERY hard for a character to survive while still in the middle of the story? yeah. and yknow the fact that there's still 6 other episodes fhdsjk. (then again the series continues regardless if a character dies and i haven't looked at other episodes' thumbnails or anything like that for this exact reason. so. i was going in as blind as i could reasonably be.)
in any case, realizing and connecting all of this and then hearing the "Hotelier" start yelling at Joui right after Liz died explicitly blaming him for it sealed it for me: this is a trick of some sort. this is a dream sequence of some sort. these aren't real deaths. (a smaller part of me was still scared that they were real because i know that Cellbit does not shy away from killing off his players' characters, if op and opq are anything to go by. but i digress.)
and then the characters turned to black goo. and i just about threw my computer. rip Luba who got absolutely targeted by the GM lmfao.
anyway uhhh that's about it regarding the dream sequence! loving luzidius!joui and how he just keeps switching back and forth. ((and it further supports my little side-theory that the mysterious blond woman last seen with Team Kelvin was a luzidious we win these.)) i was surprised to see Liz thinking it was so cool when she's been so suspicious of everything in Santo Berco since she got here, but i think she could definitely be using it as a distraction from what she just went through, and honestly she's just happy to see Joui is okay. (the way she gave on up words and just hugged him, the way she held his face in her hands, the way she dragged him down the hall to show Thiago and Thiago was just telling her to fuck off (/aff) because he was getting dressed, my heartttt i love these three, mentor-mentee dynamics my fucking beloved)
also new outfits! sweet! istg the new outfits are so Cellbit's way of apologizing for putting his friends through that. "hey sorry i killed your character in the most emotionally devastating way possible it will happen again wOAH LOOK AT THESE NEW CLOTHES AREN'T THEY SO COOL YOU SHOULD TRY THEM ON!!!"
i've been having mixed feelings about the sudden setting/genre change since the group arrived in Santo Berco. i really, really loved the urban horror-fantasy vibe that they had going on in op and the first 8 eps of osnf, but evidently, this is good as well. the genre is most definitely still horror yippee. i definitely miss the urban-modern setting, but i think i can get adjusted to this. (i'm just,,, not the biggest fan of the auto-heal crystals im sorry i had to say it they feel too op i know their use is limited to visiting the doctor but knowing they exist lowers the in-world stakes for me im sorry---)
anyway, ep 10! you beautiful monster! i have been typing for an hour! i need to go eat food! k bye!
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blorbologist · 2 years ago
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if you're still doing them: how about some antipathy/sympathy for kynan and cassandra?
36. Antipathy/Sympathy
"This spell attracts or repels creatures of your choice. You target something within range, either a Huge or smaller object or creature or an area that is no larger than a 200-foot cube. Then specify a kind of intelligent creature, such as red dragons, goblins, or vampires. You invest the target with an aura that either attracts or repels the specified creatures for the duration. Choose antipathy or sympathy as the aura's effect."
[This is a really fuckin hard spell to work with yet, so apologies that my muse took me in a bit of a different direction!]
[Set in my Cat’s Cradle AU - and a few months in the future of where the story currently is. So has a couple spoilers for what I have planned there!]
His last stop looks rich as all hells. It’s a relief, a big one, because Kynan can hide from the rain under the eaves without soaking his back and ring the doorbell. And wait. The downpour smothers any sound of approaching footsteps, but he does see the shadow of movement through the fancy frosted glass. 
“Hey - er, hi! Special delivery,” says Kynan as soon as the door opens. He forgot to get the pen handy, so he fumbles around for one to offer along with the clipboard. “Sign here.��
Holy shit, she’s cute. And looks exhausted as hell, which makes sense immediately because it’s the end of the term. But also not, because what student would order this much stupidly specific metal. Or maybe she’s an engineer? Engineering majors are always weird. 
His arms are getting tired - again, big box full of panels and parts - as she squints at the pen, at him, at the clipboard, at him, at the box. 
“I have got to get Percival to double check his address when he orders his gadgets online,” she sighs. “I’m sorry - this was my brother’s work. Could I still -”
“Oh yeah, definitely.” 
Probably not, but it’s all pros from where Kynan’s standing. A few more seconds out of the rain, for one. Not needing to carry this box back to the truck. And maybe, just maybe, he can get his head together to say something smart. 
“I, uh-”
Kynan jumps, almost drops probably ten pounds of robot guts on his foot, and yelps when something black and - jingling? - definitely jingling zips by, each bound down the steps punctuated by a cheery little bell.
“Rapier!”
Kynan’s halfway down the stairs already. “Rapper? You - sorry, you named your cat Rapper?!”
“Rapier,” she corrects. “Like a fencing sword.”
Okay, sure, that works. His eyes widen as the girl brushes past him and onto the stone pathway leading to her house. “What are you doing?! It’s pouring rain - get a coat on, the kitty can’t get far in this weather.”
She narrows her eyes - only barely, because they’re blown wide with distress.  “Only if you saw where she went.”
“Under my - the work truck.”
Kynan steels himself and, while she’s ducking back inside, kneels on the wet driveway concrete to peer between the wheels. And get on his hands, too, because she’s all the way back there, huh? 
“Here kitty kitty,” he chitters. Wide yellow eyes stare back at him, quite startled by the situation. Well, yeah, you got us into this mess. “Come on - uh - Rapier? Rapier, come on!”
She does not come on. Though she does chirp, which he thinks is a reassuring sign. Stretching his arm out to try and scratch her chin or scruff her ends up being a bad idea, though - she skitters farther back. Fuck. He can feel the rainwater bleeding through his pants. It’s freezing.
He makes his second embarrassing trill of the day when a heavy weight drops on his back. Turns his head to see the young woman, now securely wrapped in a raincoat. And something thrown over him, too.
“You’re soaked. It’s one of my brother’s that he’s forgotten here one too many times - at least it will keep you dry.”
“Oh.” Kynan realizes he’s still on his hands and knees, with a very fancy if worn coat hanging awkwardly off his back, in front of a very cute girl. In the middle of a storm. “Thank you?”
There’s a painfully awkward pause. “Cassandra. Cass. Pleasure to meet you.” She looks about to hold out her hand for a shake before she grins a bit sheepishly and stuffs it in her pocket. 
“I - thank you,” she says. “For helping.” 
“Well - I’m Kynan. Leore. Kynan Leore,” he stammers. “And - it’s nothing”
--
It’s not, actually, nothing.
The fugitive isn’t under the work truck long. She actually leads them on quite the chase until she actually runs into something that gets her to turn around.
Kynan has just a second to cow in triumph, cat bundled in his soaked coat (he stripped it to put on the dry one when Rapier got under the hedge) before he immediately regrets opening his big stupid mouth. 
“Fuck! You - fucking gross! Sorry,” he adds a bit sheepishly, even though Cassandra just looks amused by the sudden outburst. “She reeks - I think from the garbage bins? Fuck.”
Cassandra is cruel enough to laugh. He immediately wants more of it, and if the cat wasn’t so busy struggling to escape he’s pretty sure he’d get a look from the feline. 
“Let’s get you both inside,” she says, disturbing an array of mirrors as she skips through puddles. Gone is the exhaustion, just pure relief to have her cat safe, and - wow. With blue that pale, her pupils are obvious, honing in on the teeny fuzzy head. 
Rapier makes a really pathetic yowl, though, so. There was no look for him, there. Chill, Leore.
Cassandra opens the door for them both. “Never thought I’d be making this sort of delivery today,” Kynan says as he releases Rapier in the entrance. She takes the time to daintily shake her paws, about as miserably as Kynan feels. “I hope you’ve got towels for her - and you, too. You’ll catch a cold ”
“That’s an old wive’s tale.” Cassandra rolls her eyes. Rapier, sensing trouble, makes a jingling retreat further into the house, leaving a trail of damp pawprints in her wake. “It’s moreso the close proximity from staying inside to avoid the weather. It makes sharing colds easier.”
“Oh. That’s cool.” Kynan makes a face as he shucks that wonderfully warm coat. He’ll remember it fondly. And this whole evening, really, even if he’s sure he’s getting a cold out of it, no matter what Cassandra says. “Well. I’m glad I could help! And, uh, I hope your brother gets the package safe, and that -”
Something in Cassandra’s look stops him.
“How long of a drive do you have? Until you’ll be home and have a change of clothes?”
Kynan frowns. “I mean? Between getting back to work, clocking out, and the traffic this time of day? … Probably an hour.” 
She hums, glancing away. Her hair is only faintly damp, on account of the hood she’d had up. Dark brown, with streaks of - blond? Or white? It’s really pretty. 
“... Percy hasn’t been by in months,” she says, almost to herself. “I told him I’d get rid of his things if he didn’t -” There’s a very decided nod that makes Kynan stand a little straighter. “Right. You - Kynan? Mind staying there? I’ll get you a change of clothes. I think you’re roughly of height. And then I’m treating you to tea. For catching my little lady.”
He blanches. The coat alone, even a bit tattered, is probably a few day’s pay. Just loaning it to hunt for a cat in the rain felt decadent. “I - no, really, it’s fine -”
“It’s really not.”
“How about - what - dry up the kitty first?” he tries. “And I’ll throw my coat over a heater and leave when it’s dry. Fair?”
Cassandra sniffs through her nose. From anyone else - from someone else in particular - he’d call it disdainful, but it’s… actually really cute? And it feels affectionate. 
“Fair,” she agrees, swiping a towel from a nearby bathroom. He helpfully points out where Rapier’s pawprints lead as he works to unlace his running shoes (fuck he feels super poor, extra poor, wearing old no-name sneakers on this fancy tile). 
And then his phone rings.
“Oh - sorry. My boss. Gotta -” Kynan clears his throat. Cassandra actually smiles - really smiles! - and waves a go-ahead, padding off in pursuit of her cat.
“Hi! Sorry, sorry - something came up. A cat got out, and given it’s the end of my shift I figured -” he shuts up. Listens. Nods, dutifully, even if she can’t see it. Hears the scuffling of towel. “Yes. I understand, it’s very - very unprofessional. I know, but - yes, Ripley ma’am. It won’t happen again. Promptly - yeah. Goodbye.”
“Sorry,” he’s been repeating that a lot, lately, but it feels a lot better saying it to Cassandra. “She’s a real - er - hardass? About efficiency, and all -”
“Get out.”
Until it doesn’t. 
“Sorry?” squeaks Kynan.
She’s looking at him like - not like he’s beneath her, the way rich folk do. It’s worse, it’s the look his old man has when he’s fucked up, and pissed him off, and offended him. Even worse - it can always get worse - he sees the face in the mirror, bruised and scared that this’ll be it. 
“Get off my property,” Cassandra snarls, clutching the cat to her chest. It looks just as confused as he feels. “Leave, now, before I call the cops.”
… That last bit shook too much to be a real threat, but he’d not want to turn it into one. Kynan bites his tongue and gets out of there as soon as he can, hears the lock and deadbolt behind him. The rain hasn’t let up. He can’t stop and think, either, because she’s scared and angry and he doubts Ripley would back him up if he loitered. So it’s on autopilot that he gets the keys into the ignition and drives away, Google Maps reminding him cheerfully of the most efficient route back to work.
What did he do?
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