#dice set 16

[gobs-o-cs]

"My father prepared me for this. I don't care who you are or whatever business you have here, but I don't intend to let him down."

Orna-Jun

(She/Her)

Half-Orc Monk, Way of Shadow

Chaotic Good

Guild Artisan/Merchant Background - Potter

Dice Set #16 - Jade

[araliadon]

Day 16 and 17 together… as I ran out of spoons yesterday

[gobs-o-dice]

Dice Set #16: Jade

[failbettergames]

We are giddy to announce that we are working with tabletop roleplaying legends Magpie Games to create Fallen London: The Roleplaying Game, a fully-fledged, custom tabletop roleplaying system for Fallen London, in a big book and everything!

In Fallen London: the Roleplaying Game, players create their own characters by drawing on the factions, archetypes, and settings of the city — cutthroats, socialites, radicals, academics, and other, stranger creatures. They are brought together by a shared ambition; a very nearly unachievable goal. Such ambitions may destroy or drive mad those who pursue them… or they may change London forever. The Heart, as they say, is Destiny’s engine.

Fallen London: The Roleplaying Game is slated for release in late 2025 along with a supplement, Fallen London: Secrets of the Neath. In addition, players will be able to complete their tools for gameplay with the Fallen London Dice Pack and Fallen London Gamemaster Screen. Gameplay will consist of proprietary game mechanics currently in development by Magpie Games. We're going to introduce the project in full on August 23rd at 16:00 EDT/21:00 BST in a live stream, hosted by friend, scholar, journalist, streamer and Doctor of the Internet Kat Brewster on their Twitch channel! [PLEASE NOTE: Dear friend Johnny Chiodini has had to drop out at the last minute so utter hero Kat is picking up the host mantle and therefore the location of the Q&A has changed, go to that link instead!]

Guests will include Mark Diaz Truman and Brendan Conway from Magpie, and Fallen London creative lead Bruno Dias and me, Hannah, the one who sends the emails.

Fallen London is turning 15 in 2025 and this is our big anniversary project. We wouldn't have got here without you; we hope that this is a suitable anniversary present. 

[athenaeum-of-the-herald]

Types of Divination

I recently saw my friend Dagan ( @olympianbutch ) respond to an ask about his forms of divination and thought it'd be fun to go over the ones I know of! A lot of people know of tarot and pendulum but there's so many more that deserve to be be tried and maybe someone will find a new method that works for them ♡

• 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 •

Tarot- One of if not THE most well-known forms of divination. Tarot typically consists of a 78 card deck with 22 major arcana cards and 56 minor cards. These cards typically have a set and known meaning universally across all decks.

Lenormand- A (usually) 36 card deck typically used for fortune telling. As opposed to tarot, lenormand is read in a sequence and is considered more straightforward than tarot. One of the most common readings for lenormand would he The Grand Tableau, which uses the entire deck to create a "snapshot".

Oracle Cards- Oracle cards vary vastly across different decks, as each deck has different cards with different meanings. They typically create a more specific answer than tarot.

Cartomancy- Tarot is often confused as cartomancy, but cartomancy is its own separate divination style. Cartomancy typically involves using a deck of playing cards for divining questions. It has its own reading system separate from tarot and usually involves some numerology in its deciphering.

• 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 •

Capnomancy (smoke reading)- Divining messages and answers from smoke. Incense smoke is one of the most common, but other fire sources producing smoke can be used.

Geomancy- Divination done through identifying patterns created in the earth (or on paper). The diviner will create geomantic figures at random (with 16 possible combinations) and divine messages and answers from them.

Hydromancy- Divining through water by observing reflections and ripples (either naturally occurring or created.

Botanomancy- A method that involves burning herbs, plants, or branches and diving messages/identifying energies through the smoke and flames.

Cledonomancy- A method involving "overheard words". The diviner will cover their ears while asking their question or for advice, leave their location, and then unplug their ears. The words and sounds they hear will be their response. This was typically done while asking the Hermes Agoraios questions and leaving the agora/walking away from the statue.

• 𝐈𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 •

Pendulum (dowsing)- A form of divination that uses a pendant, typically on an evenly distributed chain or cord, to divine messages. The most common way it's done is by asking the pendulum (or spirits/entities etc) how the pendulum will swing for yes, no, and maybe answers. It is also common to use a pendulum board which has set spaces for yes, no, maybe, and occasionally letters for more refined answers.

Ouija- Also known as a spirit board, a suitable board consists of a board with yes, no, and alphabet, and goodbye at the bottom. A planchette is used to spell messages from the spirit/entity and answer auestions. It is known practice to always end an ouija board session by sliding the planchette to the "goodbye" section of the board.

Scrying- A divination method typically involving an obsidian mirror, a crystal ball, a pool of water in darkness, etc. A candle is commonly lit and the diviner falls into a trance-like state in which they'll see images and scenes depicted in the reflections.

Ceromancy (Wax reading)- A method that commonly involves the diviner pouring candle wax into water and deciphering the imagery seen above and below the surface of the water.

Tasseography (Tea reading)- Divination involving a tea cup and the leaves of the tea. The majority of the tea is drank, leaving just a small amount in the cup. The remaining leaves in the cup are interpreted typically for fortune telling.

Bibliomancy- The opening of a book to a random page and line/passage to divine messages and answers.

Astragalomancy (dice casting)- Throwing dice, typically to divine short answers. The reader will usually assign meaning to each number of the dice, the most common being yes, no, maybe.

I'm definitely missing more than a few, and several of these have been described to their bare minimum because they're fairly complex (ie, geomancy), but I had fun making this list regardless. Maybe I'll make in-depth posts about some of the more complex ones.

Regardless! I hope you found this informative in any way. Safe travels ♡

[prokopetz]

Your long and arduous journey has led you to this, the final confrontation. You thought you knew what to expect, but just as you struck the final blow, your ultimate foe's eyes gleamed with unnatural light as they proclaimed…

THIS ISN'T EVEN MY FINAL FORM

A game for 4–6 players

Introduction

This Isn't Even My Final Form is a GMless tactical minigame for 4–6 players. You'll take on the roles of a party of heroic adventurers nearing the end of a world-spanning quest to defeat a great evil, the Final Boss. Unfortunately for them, each time they think they've won, the Final Boss assumes a new, even more horrifying form, and the struggle begins anew. Is there any end to this conflict? There's only one way to find out!

What You'll Need

This Isn't Even My Final Form requires a dozen six-sided dice, as well as a way of keeping track of a few important numbers – a shared text document or some scrap paper will suffice.

Update 2023-10-30: Print-and-play card decks are available here:

http://penguinking.com/this-isnt-even-my-final-form/

Character Creation

Choose two of the following actions to be your Party Member's Class Actions: Strike, Heal, Buff, Debuff. If you'd rather determine this randomly, roll on the following table.

1. Strike, Heal 2. Strike, Buff 3. Strike, Debuff 4. Heal, Buff 5. Heal, Debuff 6. Buff, Debuff

Give your Party Member's Class a name which suits your Class Actions. Also give your Party Member a name; it is traditional but not obligatory for your Party Member's name to have exactly five letters.

Playing the Game

Play is divided into a series of Phases. During each Phase, one player takes on the role of the Final Boss. That player's Party Member does not participate in this Phase; they're trapped, lost, incapacitated, or otherwise separated from the party or unable to act for the duration of the Phase. All other players take on the roles of their Party Members.

The Final Boss player's first order of business is to describe what the current Phase looks like. The Final Boss player can roll 1–3 times on the following table (re-rolling duplicates) to decide on a theme, or use it as inspiration for their own theme. To use this table, roll a six-sided die twice, treating the first roll as the "tens" place and the second roll as the "ones" place, yielding a number in the range from 11 to 66.

11. Beasts 12. Bells 13. Blood 14. Bones 15. Chains 16. Chaos 21. Cubes 22. Eyes 23. Fire 24. Flowers 25. Food 26. Games 31. Gears 32. Glass 33. Gold 34. Hands 35. Holes 36. Ice 41. Iron 42. Light 43. Mazes 44. Meat 45. Mirrors 46. Music 51. Orbs 52. Order 53. Plague 54. Shadow 55. Slime 56. Space 61. Spikes 62. Teeth 63. Time 64. Trees 65. Weapons 66. Wings

Once the Phase has been defined, set the party's Momentum to zero. Momentum is a value which will increase or decrease over the course of the Phase; it has a minimum value of zero, and no particular upper limit.

Play proceeds in a series of rounds, as follows.

The Final Boss Attacks

The Final Boss always goes first in each round. Roll one die:

1–3: The Final Boss chooses one of the following actions. 4–5: The Final Boss chooses two of the following actions. You may not target the same Party Member twice; however, you may use the same action on two different Party Members if you wish. 6: The Final Boss does nothing this round. On its turn next round, it does not roll and instead uses its Ultimate Attack.

Wound: Inflict the Critical Condition on a single Party Member. If the chosen Party Member already has the Critical Condition, it's replaced with the Down Condition and the party loses one Momentum.

Imprecate: Inflict the Cursed Condition on a single Party Member.

Envenom: Inflict the Poisoned Condition on a single Party Member.

Bewilder: Inflict the Confused Condition on a single Party Member.

Counter: If you're targeted by the Strike or Debuff actions this round, after resolving that action, perform the Wound action on the Party Member who targeted you. You may counter any number of actions in this way.

Dispel: Remove the Buffed and Protected Conditions from any number of Party Members.

Enrage: The Final Boss rolls two dice and takes the better result on its next action. The party may cancel this benefit with a successful Debuff action; doing so removes the extra die instead of forcing the Final Boss to roll twice and take the lower result.

Ultimate Attack: This action can only be chosen by rolling a 6 during the previous round. When the Final Boss uses this action, choose Cursed, Poisoned, or Confused: you may perform the Wound action AND inflict the chosen Condition upon any number of Party Members, in that order. (i.e., Wound each targeted Party Member, THEN Curse/Confuse/Poison any who remain standing.)

The Final Boss player describes the outcome of the chosen action(s) in as much or as little detail as they like; control then passes to the other players.

The Party Acts

After the Final Boss has attacked, each Party Member who doesn't have the Down condition chooses one of the following actions, in any order the players wish. After choosing any action other than Defend, the player rolls their dice pool, which is a handful of six-sided dice constructed as follows:

Start with a number of dice equal to the party's current Momentum (initially zero, though it will grow over the course of the Phase)

Add one die if you're performing one of your Party Member's Class Actions

Add one die if your Party Member currently has the Buffed Condition

Add one die if your Party Member currently has the Critical Condition

Roll all of the dice together, and find the highest result. Ties for the highest result have no special significance; for example, if you rolled four dice and got 1, 3, 5 and 5, your result is 5. If you'd ever end up with zero or fewer dice for any reason – either because your dice pool was empty to begin with, or because some effect obliged you to discard every die you rolled – you receive an automatic result of 1.

If an action requires you to target a specific Party Member or make other choices, you can wait and see the result of your roll before making those decisions.

Strike: You attack the Final Boss. Roll your dice pool:

1–3: Nothing happens – either the attack misses, or the Final Boss turns out to be immune to whatever you just did. 4–5: The attack strikes true. The party gains one Momentum. 6: Critical hit! The party gains two Momentum.

Special: If you roll triples or better (i.e., at least three of the same number) on a Strike action, the Final Boss' current Phase is defeated, and you move on to the next Phase. It doesn't matter what number comes up triples.

Heal: You attempt to restore the party's strength. Roll your dice pool:

1–3: You may remove the Critical Condition from a single Party Member. If no Party Member has the Critical Condition, nothing happens. 4–5: You may remove the Critical Condition from any number of party members OR you may remove the Down Condition from a single Party Member. 6: You may remove the Critical and Down Conditions from any number of party members.

Buff: You attempt to bolster a party member. Roll your dice pool:

1–3: You may grant the Buffed Condition to a single Party Member OR remove a Condition of your choice other than Critical or Down from a single Party Member. 4–5: You may grant the Buffed Condition to a single Party Member AND remove a Condition of your choice other than Critical or Down from that Party Member, if they have one. 6: You may grant the Buffed Condition OR remove a Condition of your choice other than Critical or Down to any number of Party Members. You may choose a different option for each targeted Party Member.

Debuff: You attempt to weaken the Final Boss. Roll your dice pool:

1-3: Nothing happens – it turns out the Final Boss was immune to that effect. 4–5: The Final Boss rolls two dice and takes the lower result on its next action. 6: The Final Boss rolls two dice and takes the lower result on its next action AND the party gains one Momentum.

Defend: You may grant the Protected condition to a Party Member of your choice. Do not roll.

Based on the outcome of your roll (if applicable), describe the outcome of your action in as much or as little detail as you wish.

Once each Party Member has acted, return to "The Final Boss Attacks" to begin the next round.

Ending the Phase

As noted above, rolling triples or better on a Strike action results in the immediate defeat of the current Phase. Alternatively, if all Party Members simultaneously have the Down Condition, the Final Boss player's Party Member suddenly breaks free or arrives on the scene and rescues everyone in a stunning deus ex machina; this also ends the Phase, but does not count as defeating it.

In either case, reset the party's momentum to zero, remove all Conditions, and move on to the next Phase. The role of the Final Boss passes to a different player, with preference given to those who haven't yet had a chance to be the Final Boss; the previous Final Boss player resumes playing their Party Member.

Continue until the party has defeated a number of Phases at least equal to the number of players, or until mutual agreement has been reached that all this has gone on quite long enough.

Conditions

Some actions can impose Conditions upon the individual Party Members. Conditions can be positive or negative, and last until specific conditions for their removal are met.

Buffed: Your strength has been boosted. When rolling your dice pool, you roll one extra die.

Confused: You've lost your wits. When the party acts, your action is determined by rolling a d6 – 1: Strike; 2: Heal; 3: Buff; 4: Debuff; 5: Defend; 6: do nothing this round AND remove this Condition. This Condition is also removed if you gain the Critical Condition while under its effects. You may choose targets normally if the rolled action requires them. Confused Party Members always act before their un-Confused peers; if there are multiple Confused Party Members, the Final Boss decides the order in which they act.

Critical: You are badly wounded. Desperation lends strength, and so this Condition adds one extra die to your dice pools; however, if you suffer the Critical Condition a second time, it becomes the Down Condition instead.

Cursed: You've been afflicted with misfortune. Discard your highest result after rolling your dice pool, but before applying your chosen action's effects. If there's a tie for the highest result, discard all of them; for example, if you roll four dice while Cursed and get 1, 3, 5 and 5, your result is 3. If the Condition causes you to discard your only set of triples of better on a Strike action, the Phase does not end.

Down: You are incapacitated by injury or foul enchantment. When the party acts, you may not choose an action; your action remains lost even if this Condition is removed before the end of the round. When you gain this Condition, remove all other Conditions, and the party loses one Momentum. (This is not in addition to the Momentum loss noted by effects which inflict this Condition – those are just reminders.) You may not gain other Conditions while this one persists.

Poisoned: You're afflicted by a poison, plague, or death-curse. If you have the Poisoned Condition after resolving your action for the round, you gain the Critical Condition. If you already have the Critical Condition, you instead gain the Down Condition, and the party loses one Momentum.

Protected: The next time you would gain any Condition other than Buffed, remove this Condition instead. You also remove this Condition if you take any action other than Defend on your turn.

[iyoonjh]

Beyond Plus Ultra! – The anatomy of falling in love

Chapter 16: From Dungeon to Deck Chair: The Fellowship of the Beach

wc: 2082 words

The apartment smelled like pizza, bad decisions, and the faint threat of Monster Mango Punch.

Soobin sat cross-legged on the carpet, pencil tucked behind one ear, a character sheet half-filled beside him, and a bowl of pretzel sticks within reach. Beomgyu had a bandana tied around his forehead for “battle energy,” Hueningkai was double-fisting Capri Suns like a sugar-fueled druid, and Taehyun—eternal Dungeon Master and occasional monk—sat at the head of the table with a mini fog machine and actual laminated maps.

“I cast Charm on the goblin guard,” Beomgyu declared, holding up a sparkly d20. “And then I ask him if he’s emotionally fulfilled in his job.”

“I’m going to scream,” Taehyun said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re trying to seduce the goblin again?”

“I’m trying to connect with him,” Beomgyu shot back. “Consentually. And with vibes.”

Sunghoon was perched on the edge of the couch in a hoodie two sizes too big, the sleeves swallowed his hands completely, giving him the appearance of a moody High Elf who’d been hexed into eternal comfort. He held a spell card up in front of him with the seriousness of a Shakespearean lead about to deliver a monologue in Act III of a drama no one else had read.

“By the celestial light of the twin moons,” he intoned, squinting dramatically, “I summon the sacred winds of Elarion—wait, wait, do I add my modifier to this?”

“Yes, but only if you’re not holding a cursed item,” Taehyun said without looking up.

“I’m literally holding a cursed item,” Sunghoon sighed. 

Beside him, Heeseung sat cross-legged with perfect posture, playing a kazoo version of The Lord of the Rings theme song like it was his druid-bardic duty. He was wearing a DIY cloak made from an old blanket and had penciled a tiny mustache onto his upper lip with eyeliner.

“I’m adding ambiance,” he said cheerfully, ignoring Yeonjun’s fourth aggressive glance.

“I will snap that kazoo in half like a breadstick,” Yeonjun hissed, glaring at him from across the table.

Yeonjun himself was the most overdressed person in the room—tight black jeans, silver rings on every finger, and a velvet choker that absolutely did not match his wizard robe but somehow still worked. He had two sets of dice laid out on a silk cloth like a tarot reading and a single tealight candle flickering dramatically beside his character sheet.

“You don't understand the mood,” he said when Taehyun asked if the candle was really necessary. “Besides, my dice roll better when they feel respected.”

Hueningkai was lying on his stomach across a bean bag, sketching an anatomically incorrect dragon with sunglasses on the back of a pizza box. He kept muttering things like “do goblins wear shoes?” and “how much emotional trauma can one elf carry before he becomes a bard?” Every few minutes, he’d gasp, snap his fingers, and write down notes for his future webcomic.

“Did you know octopuses have three hearts?” he said suddenly, looking up. “Imagine breaking all three. That’s so dramatic. I want to play a sea creature who just got ghosted by a mermaid and now he haunts tide pools.”

Leehan sat cross-legged by the window, furiously scribbling in a weathered field journal labeled Tidal Lore: Volume II. He wore a “Support Your Local Fish” T-shirt under a faded zip-up and had five different highlighters spread around him like a ritual circle. Occasionally, he’d whisper something to himself and nod solemnly, as if communing with the spirit of Poseidon.

It was chaos. Beautiful, stupid chaos.

Soobin had barely spoken in the last ten minutes. Not because he wasn’t having fun—he was, truly—but because his phone kept lighting up with new messages. From Y/N.

He couldn’t stop smiling.

That, of course, was his first mistake.

“Okay.” Yeonjun narrowed his eyes across the room like a hawk with better fashion sense. “Why is Soobin smiling like he just got kissed under a rainbow?”

Soobin blinked, thumb still hovering over his screen. “What?”

“Bro’s been checking his phone every six seconds,” Hueningkai said through a mouthful of gummy worms. “You’re glowing. Like, that glow people get when they are pregnant. It’s alarming.”

“I am not—” Soobin started.

“HE’S SOFT-LEANING,” Beomgyu gasped, pointing. “That’s the ‘I’m flirting with my crush and pretending I’m not panicking’ posture. Boobie, know your worth my boy.”

Sunghoon leaned forward. “Did Y/N text you?”

Soobin hesitated. And in that half-second of hesitation, the room exploded.

“Oh my GOD,” Heeseung howled. “She did!”

“Okay spill” Taehyun demanded, slamming his dice bag on the table with the weight of a federal agent.

Soobin sighed, but he couldn’t fight the grin crawling up his face. “Okay, fine. She invited me. Well, us.”

A beat. A pause so sharp you could hear the dramatic swell of nerdy destiny approaching.

“To…?” Hueningkai asked.

“Jake’s beach house,” Soobin said. “This weekend.”

The room erupted.

“WE’VE BEEN CHOSEN!” Beomgyu shouted, throwing his arms into the air like he was being knighted.

“We beat the social game,” Yeonjun said in awe. “We’re getting a beach episode.”

“I’ve been preparing for this moment my whole life,” Heeseung whispered, dramatically clutching his character sheet to his chest.

Sunghoon rolled off the couch entirely.

“I can’t go to a beach,” he groaned from the floor. “I’ll burn. I’ll melt. I’m pale and emotionally fragile.”

“I don’t own a swimsuit that’s not from middle school,” Hueningkai added. “It has Charizard on it.”

“BRING IT,” said Beomgyu immediately. “I’m wearing my sailor moon rash guard. We go down together.”

Leehan looked up from his sketchpad, completely serene. “Do you think I’ll be able to identify local tidepool species from the balcony?”

“Leehan,” Yeonjun said gently, “please do not give the crabs names again.”

“I only named five.”

“They followed him back to the Airbnb,” Taehyun muttered.

“THEY UNDERSTOOD ME.”

“Can we focus?” Soobin said, cheeks warm, eyes wide. “She invited us. That means we have to—like—be normal like we were at the party.”

Beomgyu laughed so hard he choked. “Yeah, right. Bro, you summoned a ghost in the last campaign by accident and apologized to it for interrupting her grave nap.”

“I’m just saying,” Soobin said, flustered, “this trip is kind of a big deal.”

“Because of Y/N,” Taehyun smirked.

“Because of—shut up. SHUT UP IMMEDIATELY.”

Yeonjun tossed a chip at him. “Just admit you’re already imagining a slow-motion beach kiss while a ukulele plays in the distance.”

“I—”

“And then you trip on seaweed and try to play it cool but she has to help you up,” Hueningkai added.

“And then you say something like ‘You’re prettier than the moonlight on the tide’ and we all die,” Beomgyu finished.

Soobin covered his face with both hands. “I hate all of you.”

“No, no,” Yeonjun said, leaning forward with a sparkle in his eye that could only mean chaos. “Important question. Who’s going?”

Soobin peeked out between his fingers. “I don’t know. Y/N said her whole group. Probably Jake, Jungwon, Yunjin, Sunoo, Jay—”

Yeonjun’s head snapped toward him. “Jay?”

“Oh god,” Soobin mumbled.

“JAY,” Yeonjun repeated, gripping the back of the chair. “My nemesis. My forever enemy. My beige counterpart. I must prepare.”

“Your what now?” Taehyun asked flatly.

“Listen,” Yeonjun said, standing up as if that would make his next sentence make sense. “We’ve spoken, like, three times ever. But every time he says something, I feel personally attacked. At the party he called my necklace ‘dramatic.’ Dramatic! It was a minimalist silver dagger!”

“He said in a fun way, he was trying to be social with you’” Beomgyu added helpfully.

“And yet,” Yeonjun said with a finger in the air, “Yunjin laughed.”

“Ah,” Heeseung said. “There it is.”

Yeonjun flopped dramatically back onto the couch. “If she’s there, I have to look good.”

“I saw a guy on instagram selling a cologne he promised to be aphrodisiac” Sunghoon offered from the floor. 

“And that's a pyramid scheme” Leehan told him.

“I’ll bring backup necklaces,” Yeonjun muttered to himself. “Statement pieces. Ones that scream ‘I'm in a band and also collect knives.’”

“You're in a band with Hueningkai” Heeseung mocked.

“Why do your accessories have backstories?” Soobin asked.

“They’re part of my lore.”

Meanwhile, Hueningkai, who had been very quiet until now, looked up with wide eyes. “What if we see dolphins?”

Everyone paused.

“I mean, yeah,” Soobin said slowly. “That could happen.”

“No. Like, what if they’re watching us?” Hueningkai whispered. “From just below the surface. Judging our land-walking rituals. Like, ‘look at these fools and their SPF 30.’”

Beomgyu gasped. “Kai. Have you been reading dolphin conspiracy blogs again?”

“I haven’t stopped,” he replied solemnly. “Also, fun fact: dolphins are one of the few non-human species that can recognize themselves in a mirror. So I’m gonna bring one to the beach. Just in case.”

“So what?” Heeseung asked, grinning. “You’re gonna walk up to the water, hold up a mirror, and wait to vibe-check the ocean?”

“Yes,” Hueningkai said without hesitation. “And if they wink at me, we’ll know. We’ll know.”

“You know what?” Taehyun muttered. “I’m not even gonna stop you. I want to see how that plays out.”

“Can I help?” Leehan asked, folding his crab journal closed with reverence. “I can chart dolphin reactions based on lunar phase and water clarity.”

“You’re all unhinged,” Soobin said, somehow fondly.

“Wait,” Yeonjun interjected, suddenly serious. “What are you wearing?”

Soobin blinked. “What?”

“To the beach. You’re the romantic lead now, remember?” Yeonjun leaned forward again, eyes gleaming, Heeseung shook his head. “You need to serve something soft. Boyfriend at golden hour. Wind in your hair, gaze full of longing.”

“He can wear that light blue hoodie,” Sunghoon offered. “It's very boyfriendable”

“Oh my god, I’m not—” Soobin buried his face again, this time in the nearest pillow.

“We are styling you for your beach romance,” Yeonjun said proudly. “This is our Clueless montage. I will not be denied.”

“Just don’t let him wear that one shirt,” Beomgyu said. “You know. The cursed one.”

Soobin looked up. “What cursed shirt?”

“The minions one.”

“I like that shirt.”

“We know,” everyone said in unison.

And then—

A beat of silence.

Soft. Happy. The kind of pause that felt like a smile exhaled into the air, filling up all the little spaces between them. Outside, the hum of late-night traffic drifted past Taehyun’s apartment windows. Inside, the glow from the string lights made everything look golden, like this wasn’t just another weekend but the beginning of something else entirely.

The map on the table was still spread open. The dice lay scattered, untouched for once. And around the room—this warm, weird, chaotic room—sat seven boys who had started this campaign as just friends and had somehow become their own little universe.

Taehyun looked around, his gaze quiet but steady, a knowing softness in his eyes. “You know…” he said, voice low, like anything louder might scare the feeling away, “I think we’re gonna have a good time.”

He wasn’t talking about D&D anymore. And everyone knew it.

Because this wasn’t just a trip. It was them, getting to be part of something. Getting invited. Getting chosen.

It was walking into a party and not standing in the corner.

It was laughing too loud and being laughed with, not at.

It was the quiet victory of being seen—the kind that doesn’t need a trophy or a big speech, just a look across the couch and a shared bag of snacks and someone saying, “You’re coming too.”

Soobin hugged the pillow tighter to his chest. He didn’t say anything right away. Just let the feeling sink in—the one that made his chest ache in the nicest way. The one that said this was all real.

And in his head, looping like a secret, was the image of Y/N’s smile.

That look she gave him whenever she teased him.

He hadn’t even told her how he felt yet.

But he would.

God, he would.

And maybe, when he got there, and the sun was setting, and she was looking at him like that again—

Maybe he’d finally kiss her without a dog interrupting.

And if not?

Well.

At least he’d have his friends. His party. His chaos.

And a beach full of crabs, apparently.

Not bad, for a bunch of kids who used to watch from the sidelines.

Not bad at all.

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profiles: d&d saturday mass group | bling bling losers

author's note: SURPRISE! updating twice this week! hope you guys like it and look foward to the next chapter! as always, let's chat, please tell me what do you guys think in the comments ( i do not think aquarius are dumb, i'm an aquarius moon and we are elite). ALSO what do you guys think it's gonna happen at this beach trip? hehe thank you so much again <3

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[dungeon-strugglers]

✨New item!✨ Uncanny Blade Weapon (scimitar), rare (requires attunement)

This bizarre sword seems to be a living creature. The beak-like blade flexes and chatters from time to time incomprehensibly. The boney handle ripples rhythmically in your grasp. The four eyes peering from the guard dart around excitedly when the sword is used in combat. Whether it is sentient or not, is unknown to you. You have a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon.

This sword bestows the ability to cast a random spell upon its wielder. Each day at dawn, roll a d4 to determine which spell the sword grants you for the day.

detect magic

disguise self

detect thoughts

suggestion

fear

tongues

confusion

greater invisibility

hold monster

seeming

eyebite

mass suggestion

As an action while wielding this sword, you can cast the spell from it (save DC 15). Once the sword is used to cast a spell, it can’t be used again in this way until the next dawn. Each time you gain a character level while attuned to this sword, the die you roll to determine your daily spell increases by one (to a d6, d8, d10, and ultimately a d12). When the die increases to a d10, the sword’s save DC also increases to 16 and the sword’s bonus to attack and damage rolls increases to +2. If you end your attunement to the sword, the die resets to a d4. Curse. This sword is actually a demon, warped into the shape of a weapon. The demon’s sentience was shattered by the magic that reshaped its body, erasing its name and its ability to communicate or form complex thoughts. Any attempt to telepathically talk to the sword will only yield a jumble of fragmented and chaotic memories. Clinging to existence, the demon siphons your life force as you grow in power. Each time you gain a level while attuned to the sword, you lose one hit die and your life span shortens by 3 years. Ending your attunement by removing this curse restores your lost hit dice and life span. - 🖌🎨 Like our work? Consider supporting us on Patreon and gain access to the hi-resolution art for over 200 magic items, printable item cards and card packs, beautiful creature art and stat blocks, and setting pdfs with narrative hooks and unique lore!🧙‍♂️ Thank you so much for your support! 💖

📜 Credit. Art and design by us: the Dungeon Strugglers. Please credit us if you repost elsewhere.

[vixensdungeon]

So now that Andor is finished, your girl is hardcore in a Star Wars kind of mood. So let's make some Star Warriors!

We'll start from the beginning.

Star Wars: The Roleplaying Game (West End Games, 1987)

The WEG editions have probably my favourite character creation system of all three versions. We start by picking a character template representing a type of character that you'd expect to see in a Star Wars story. I feel like being a princess so I pick the Arrogant Noble. This gives me a set of dice codes for each of my basic attributes, some equipment, plus background information and roleplaying suggestions. Then I have seven dice to add to various skills associated with those attributes. And… that's really it! After that it's just coming up with a name and various details like height and age. So this is what we end up with:

Arrogant Noble

Character Name Valara Vexen Player Name Vivian Vixen Height 1.76m Weight 90kg Sex F Age 16 Physical Description curvaceous, red of hair, has cool space goggles

DEXTERITY 3D+1 Dodge 4D+1 Melee 4D+1

KNOWLEDGE 3D+1 Cultures 4D+1 Languages 5D+1

MECHANICAL 2D+2

PERCEPTION 4D Command 6D

STRENGTH 2D+2

TECHNICAL 2D

Equipment several changes of clothing in the latest styles, hold-out blaster, dueling sabre, personal landspeeder, 2000 credits standard

Valara is the princess of planet Nevix V, who has joined the Rebel Alliance out of a sense of noblesse oblige, as well as outrage over the destruction of Alderaan. Her favourite cake toppings are whipped blue cream and spaceberry.

Another thing you're supposed to do for character creation is come up with connections between the different characters, which I can't really do because I'm doing this solo. Unless…

Anyone wanna play Star Wars toys with me?

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Potentate’s Chess Set
Wondrous item, very rare (requires attunement) ___ When found, this chess set is missing half its pieces. The set is contained within a case, which often doubles as the board when opened up. The case itself isn’t magical, but the pieces within it are. While the set is on your person and within its case, you can use an action to invoke one of its magical pieces. When you do, a spectral, Medium replica of that piece appears at your location before beginning to move. A spectral piece can move appropriately to how a normal piece would in a game of chess, in increments of 5 feet and up to a maximum range of 60 feet. For instance, a pawn could move up to 5 feet, but a bishop could move up to 60 feet in a straight line—albeit diagonally. If you’re not using a square grid, a piece can move anywhere within its range at the GM’s discretion. When you invoke a piece and move it in this way, it expends that piece’s use until the next dawn. The number of each piece you have when found is listed in its description. Use a spell attack bonus of +7 and save DC of 15 for each piece, or +8 and 16 if you have a complete set. 𝙋𝙖𝙬𝙣 (8): The pawn moves up to 5 feet, or 10 feet if it’s the first round of combat, and attacks a target within the space. On a hit, the target takes 2d8 force damage and must succeed on a Strength saving throw or be knocked prone. Alternatively, you can invoke the pawn as a reaction when a hostile creature’s movement provokes an opportunity attack from you. 𝘽𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙥 (2): The bishop moves in a line that’s 5 feet wide and up to 60 feet long. Each friendly creature within the line regains 3d8 hit points. 𝙆𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 (2): The knight moves 10 feet in a straight line and then turns left or right (your choice) before moving another 5 feet. At the end of the movement, it attacks the target within its space. If the target is Medium or smaller, the attack is made with advantage. On a hit, the target takes 5d8 force damage. If you roll an 8 on any of the damage dice, the knight’s use isn’t expended. 𝙍𝙤𝙤𝙠 (2): The rook moves in a line that’s 5 feet wide and up to 60 feet long... Continued in the comment below! ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[rottenpumpkin13]

Our special boys try pumpkin carving, shenanigans ensue

AGSZC And How Pumpkin Carving Can Go Wrong

• Sephiroth is peeling his pumpkin's skin, scooping out the seeds, spreading them neatly across a napkin.

• Angeal carves a simple, modest jack-o'-lantern.

• Genesis scoffs and declares he doesn't need a knife—he'll just carve his using fire materia. He then accidentally sets Angeal's pumpkin on fire.

• Angeal calmly extinguishes the flames, lectures him about fire safety, grabs another pumpkin, and starts over.

• Zack sneaks up on Cloud, hollowed pumpkin at the ready, and jams it over his head as a joke. Zack laughs until Cloud panics and tries to wrench it off. It's stuck.

• Sephiroth roasts his pumpkin seeds over a tiny portable flame he brought with him.

• Genesis tries to carve his pumpkin using fire again,but sets Angeal's new one on fire. Angeal calmly douses it, lectures Genesis on control, and retrieves yet another pumpkin.

• Zack is now desperately trying to unstick the pumpkin from Cloud's head. He is unsuccessful.

• Sephiroth quietly dices pumpkin cubes into a bowl.

• Genesis, frustrated by Angeal's unending patience, sets fire to his pumpkin on purpose this time. This angers Angeal greatly.

• Sephiroth chops onions and sprinkles them with seasoning.

• Zack no longer cares about getting the pumpkin off. "You know, you look kinda cute like that. Could keep it on for Halloween?" Cloud's response is to grab the nearest knife and start chasing Zack, pumpkin-headed and incensed.

• Sephiroth drops the pumpkin cubes into a sizzling pot he mysteriously produced.

• Angeal angrily hurls a chunk of pumpkin at Genesis, sparking a war of confessions as they fling pieces of pumpkin guts back and forth.

Genesis: "REMEMBER THAT MYSTERIOUS SCRATCH THAT APPEARED ON YOUR SWORD WHEN WE WERE 16? THAT WAS ME."

Angeal: "YEAH, WELL, BANORA WHITE JUICE SUCKS AND I'VE NEVER LIKED IT."

• Sephiroth adds broth and herbs, stirring calmly.

• Genesis and Angeal freeze mid-pumpkin-throw as knife-wielding pumpkin-headed Cloud runs toward them next. Without a second thought, they all run in different directions, tripping over chairs and scrambling to escape.

• Sephiroth has made pumpkin soup.

[gobs-o-dice]

Old Dice Staging Methods: Batch #4

[cavegirlpoems]

Okay, let's roll up a PC for Black Death Rising

it will be a fun demo of how the system works.

Step one is to roll for Attributes - Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Perception and Charisma - in order, and note down each score's attribute modifier. We get 10 Strength (+0), 11 Dexterity (+0), 5 Constitution (-2), 13 Intelligence (+1), 11 Perception (+0) and 13 Charisma (+1). So, our character is smart and charming, but notably delicate.

Next up, we pick a Nature for the character - what other games might call a 'race' - that determines what sort of being they are. Are they a normal mortal human? Some odd variation on humanity? Undead? Some spiritual being? The available options are Mortal Human, Ghoul, Lycanthrope, Purified One, Petty Demon, Mimic, Homonculus, Grotesque, Revenant, Ghost, Waif and Vampire. Each nature determines how many Flesh Points (your first dice of HP) we'll begin with, and grants particular perks and drawbacks. Going through the list, let's pick a Vampire - an undead creature tainted by Plague, with a hunger for blood. A vampire gives us d6 Flesh Points, modified by our unfortunate Constitution of -2. We roll a 4, for 2 Flesh total. We're not getting any less fragile. A vampire comes with all the regular effects of being undead; they heal less effectively and are vulnerable to certain magic, but are immune to things that might hurt specifically living people. Lastly, a vampire gets a bite attack, and can heal themselves by drinking blood, which somewhat makes up for our otherwise fragile health.

After this, we need to pick a class, from the options of Cleric, Doctor, Knight, Libertine, Outlaw, Professional, Witch and Zealot. Our fragile health lets us rule out the ones the more directly combat-focussed classes (the Knight and Zealot, and probably the Libertine and Outlaw too). Meanwhile, our good intelligence and charisma lend themselves to classes that benefit from them, like the Cleric, Doctor and Witch. After a little deliberation, let's pick the Witch, and go for a Ressurectionist variant. A Witch only begins with d4 Grit Points (the rest of our HP), which we roll and add our Constitution modifier to, and end up with only a single Grit Point. Our Constitution also makes our Saving throw worse, going from 15+ to 17+. We're certainly delicate. However, a Ressurectionist Witch also begins with improved Translation and Medicine skills (2-in-6 rather than 1-in-6), which we can add our Intelligence bonus to, for 3-in-6 total. Likewise, our high Intelligence and Charisma give us an improved 2-in-6 chance at the Tinkering, Charm, Status and Rituals skills. Lastly, the big perk of being a Witch is the ability to cast spells. We begin with a spellbook containing an entire school of magic, and being a ressurectionist, we pick Necromancy, meaning we start with Revive Flesh (rank 1), Preserve Corpse (rank 2), Speak With Dead (rank 3), Putrefy (rank 4), Animate Dead (rank 5) and Zombie Plague (rank 6) in our notes. As a first-level witch, we can have up to two ranks of spells prepared and ready to go at once. Lastly, we can note that we'll need 2,500 XP to reach 2nd level.

With our class and its various details taken into account, we can look at equipment. We get ten items, up to two of which can be Rare. If we take on a Flaw - a disability, curse, vice or similar drawback - we can take a third Rare item, at the cost of a disadvantage to rolls when our flaw applies. As a Witch, the first thing we'll be doing is using our Rare items to have a pair of spell scrolls, adding another two spells to our notes; going over the list, we'll pick up Fleshcrafting (rank 6) and Sleep (rank 1). Then, there's the matter of combat. Frankly, if we get hit, we're probably going down, so our priority is not getting hit. Chain armour is the best armour we can get (since plate is rare), so we'll take Chain armour and a shield, setting our armour class to a respectable 16. For weapons, we mostly want to hide behind somebody else and poke at the enemy, so a basic spear (doing d8 damage) will do the trick. Five items down, and five to go. It makes sense to have writing materials - we are after all an accademic sort - and a surgeon's kit. It also makes sense to have a light source, so we'll go with some candles and a tinderbox. This leaves us with one item left. We also have the option to take various advantages - such as social backgrounds, physical adaptations, animal companions, etc - in place of equipment, but many of these are Rare items. Let's say fuck it, and give our character a Flaw - vulnerability to sunlight - that gives us a disadvantage to rolls in direct sunlight. This lets us make our last item a Rare item, and we'll pick a Familiar; a little magical companion that we can talk with, probably one of our undead creations.

There's a few final details. We can note down our Armour Class of 16 (from armour and a shield), our starting Damnation of 0, our starting Bounty of 0, and our basic Bleeding Time of 2 rounds. Now, all that's left to do is sort out the fictional details; who this person is and how they fit into the world. There's a handy table of character quirks to roll on. Let's give it a few rolls until something interesting emerges: 11: Weeps blood. 75: Crawled out of a shallow grave with no memory. And, bingo, that's a character hook right there. All that's left is a name: lets call her Jane Grey, and we're ready to start play.

and with that, we're good to go!

[sunsounds]

writing ask game

🌻 — prompts

(1) share an excerpt you're proud of, and elaborate on why.

(2) share an excerpt of [character pairing] interacting, either selected from the work or written now.

(3) pick a branching universe you would enjoy writing from the canon of [project]— a character makes a different choice, the dice roll a different number, etc. describe what it would look like and/or write 100+ words in this universe.

(4) pick an alternate setting you would want to put either the main cast of your work or [specific characters] in— zombie apocalypse, medieval fantasy, regency era, office hijinks, etc. describe what it would look like and/or write 100+ words in this universe.

(5) describe what [project] would look like if it were bad. (alternatively: list out what hypothetical horrible interpretations of the work would look like. fake socmedia discourse emulator optional but encouraged.)

(6) describe the premise/plot of [project] from the perspective of each main cast member.

(7) if you were writing an individual project based on each main cast member in [project], what would they look like? what genre would each main cast member do best in?

🌺 — questions

(8) what are your favorite character dynamics from [project]? elaborate on why. what scenarios not followed through with in-story would you want to put each dynamic in most? (ex: truthserum-ed and locked in a room; roadtripping; coffeeshop au; etc)

(9) who are your favorite characters from [project]? what do you want most from them as characters: to have them heal and be content/happy, or to run them under a cheese grater? how does this compare to what they undergo in the story?

(10) which characters do you personally dislike most from [project]? elaborate on why, bonus points for how impassioned your answer is.

(11) is there is anything intangible or inanimate in [project] which qualifies as a character in its own right? (ex: a specific theme, setting, etc)

(12) which scene/plot beat is your favorite? elaborate on why.

(13) which aspects of worldbuilding are your favorites? (if not applicable: which parts of the setting interest you most?)

(14) what are the focal points of [project]? what does it revolve around emotionally?

(15) in what ways are you challenging yourself with [project], and is there anything specific you want to come out of the work having improved skills in? on the other hand, which aspects are fully in your comfort zone?

(16) what sparked [project]? what was the original premise or jumping-off point, and do you have any records of the first notes from its creation?

(17) do you have a specific structure or method of plotting for [project]? what does your drafting process look like?

(18) pick 1-5 songs which you believe define either [project] or [character (relationship)] and elaborate on why with attached lyric selections. (optionally: link a playlist)

(19) what text/message have you sent about [project] which is most unhinged or incomprehensible out of context?

(20) do you think there's anything about [project] which is predictable from your previous works/interests, or to anyone who knows you well enough? if the work was written by someone else, what would a recommendation designed to personally bait you look like?

[prokopetz]

Code Green

A game for 3–7 players, about being where you're not supposed to be.

Last night, you were suspended in a tube of brightly coloured goo in an underground research facility, operated by an organisation whose three-letter initialism's meaning is strictly need-to-know. This morning, someone noticed your tube was empty. Nobody has determined how that happened yet, and you're not inclined to stick around until they figure it out!

Or, in other words, it's been nearly a whole week since I got that massive revision to Space Gerbils out the door, and apparently my brain has decided that's enough of a break. This thing was written start to finish in under 12 hours, so let the circumstances of its authorship guide your expectations. Special thanks go once again to Caro Asercion, whose micro-RPG Dwindle introduced me to the design space I'm fucking around with here. Go buy their stuff.

Anyway:

What You'll Need

Code Green is a tabletop RPG for one game moderator (GM) and up to six players. Each player will need a copy of the Profile Grid, below, as well as three tokens of some sort: dice, coins, beads, etc. You'll also need at least five six-sided dice (for the whole group, not per player, though it's fine if each player has their own set). If you're using dice for tokens, it's recommended that the dice you plan to roll be visually distinguishable in case they land on someone's Profile Grid.

Rolling Dice

There are two ways you'll be asked to roll dice in this game: rolling d66, and rolling a dice pool.

To roll d66, roll a six-side die twice, reading the first roll as the "tens" place and the second roll as the "ones" place, yielding a number in the range from 11 to 66. For example, if you rolled a 3 and then a 5, your result is 35. You may also be asked to flip a d66 roll; to do this, take your result and swap the digits without re-rolling. In the preceding example, if you flipped your roll of 35, your new result would be 53.

To roll a dice pool, pick up the indicated number of six-side dice, roll them, and take the highest individual result. Duplicates have no special significance. For example, if you rolled a pool of three dice and got a 2, a 4, and a 4, your result would be 4. If you would ever roll a pool of zero or fewer dice, roll two dice and take the lowest instead.

Character Creation

Each player should create their own character. There are three things about your character which are always true:

You are newly born into the world. You may know things about the world (e.g., from your programming, having read them on a computer terminal, etc.), but you haven't experienced them.

You are implausibly good at remaining inconspicuous; unless you're deliberately drawing attention or doing something which requires a dice roll, humans will almost always fail to spot you.

You are not human. You can decide what that means.

To find out what else is true about your character, roll or choose three times from the Form table, and three times from the Function table, placing your results into the correspondingly labelled slots on the Profile Grid, below, in any order you please. Your three results from each table should be different; if you elected to roll and get the same entry multiple times, flip your result, and re-roll if it's still a duplicate.

Think about what your three Form traits and three Function traits imply about your character's physical makeup, but don't set anything in stone just yet – you'll see why not in a moment.

Finally, roll a six-sided die five times, and record the results in the order in which they're received. The resulting five-digit number is the only name your character has when play begins.

Table 1: Form (d66)

11–12. Blood 13–14. Bones 15–16. Brain 21–22. Claws 23–24. Ears 25–26. Eyes 31–32. Guts 33–34. Hands 35–36. Heart 41–42. Hair 43–44. Legs 45–46. Lungs 51–52. Nose 53–54. Skin 55–56. Tail 61–62. Teeth 63–64. Tongue 65–66. Wings

Table 2: Function (d66)

11–12. Accelerated 13–14. Autonomous 15–16. Auxiliary 21–22. Cryogenic 23–24. Cryptic 25–26. Elastic 31–32. Electric 33–34. Entropic 35–36. Invasive 41–42. Invulnerable 43–44. Kinetic 45–46. Magnetic 51–52. Phasing 53–54. Polymorphic 55–56. Projectile 61–62. Pyrogenic 63–64. Telescopic 65–66. Toxic

Playing the Game

Play proceeds in a series of scenes. In each scene, the GM will set the stage: a challenge to overcome, a peril to escape, a mystery to investigate, etc. Given the nature of your characters, most things will be mysteries to you!

Initial Token Placement

Once the stage has been set, place each of your three tokens on a different square on your Profile Grid. If you have no preference, you can roll d66 for each token and place it in the square whose marked numeric range contains the number you rolled, flipping or re-rolling your result if you get a square which already contains a token. The placement of these tokens represents your initial state when the scene opens. Depending on the nature of your character, this may be reflected by a shifting of internal focus, or by a physical transformation.

Participation

To participate in the scene, simply tell the GM what your character does; the GM will describe how the world responds, and ask what you do next. Whenever you wish – or are forced – to do something more than lurk and observe, you are obliged to make a test.

Making Tests

To make a test, first choose a pair of traits – one Form trait, and one Function trait – with which to face the challenge. For example, if your Form traits are Legs, Tail and Teeth, and your Function traits are Cryptic, Invulnerable and Phasing, you might test your Invulnerable Legs against the trouble at hand.

Next, count the number of tokens present in the rows extending from each of the chosen traits. The illustration below shows which squares would be consulted in the preceding example:

Next, roll a dice pool containing a number of dice equal to the number of tokens present on squares extending from the chosen traits. Do not count a token twice if it's on the square where the two traits intersect (e.g., the green square in the illustration above). In the event that no tokens fall on squares extending from appropriate traits, remember that you are allowed to roll a pool of zero dice by rolling two dice and taking the lowest rather than the highest.

Finally, compare your result to the following table:

1–3. Less than human. Whatever you'd intended to try still happens, but it cannot overcome human opposition (or adversity which would challenge a typical human), and any lasting effects are transitory and easily explained away. 4–5. Mostly human. Your effort can contend with human opposition (or circumstances which would challenge a competent human), and its lasting effects make it obvious that someone (or something) has been interfering with matters. 6. More than human. Your effort easily brushes aside any human opposition, and its lasting effects are impossible to rationalise as anything other than the intervention of inhuman forces.

Without Applicable Traits

In the event that you're forced to make a test and no possible pairing of your traits is applicable, you don't get to roll anything, not even with a pool of zero dice; simply resolve the outcome as though you'd rolled a result of 1–3. Other characters may attempt to preserve you from this fate by assisting you, in which case you roll one die per assisting friend; see below for more details.

Assistance

If you wish to assist another character in making a test, consult your own Profile Grid, considering only those squares which contain tokens. Only the specific pairs of traits represented by the squares on which your tokens fall are eligible for assistance; for example, if one of your tokens falls on the intersection of Cryptic and Teeth, you may assist with Cryptic Teeth, but not any other pair of traits involving Cryptic or Teeth unless those squares also have tokens on them.

If you're able to identify an eligible pair of traits that seems applicable to the test at hand, explain how you're using it to help, and hand the player making the test one extra die. Any number of characters may assist on a given test.

Providing assistance neither requires nor permits your character to adapt (see below) – it needs to be your own test for that!

Adapting

After resolving a test, your character adapts, shifting focus or form to reflect what they've learned. Take one token of your choice from your character sheet, and move it to a different square which doesn't already contain one. You can move any token you wish, but it must end up on a different square than the one it started on unless no valid destinations are available. Adapting is not optional, and must be carried out after every test.

Suffering Strain

If whatever you're making a test against is particularly strenuous or dangerous, you might suffer strain as a consequence. Strain will often be incurred on a result of 1–3, and rarely on a result of 4–5; only the most foolhardy efforts will incur strain even on a result of 6!

To incur strain, roll d66, and place a small X on the square on your Profile Grid whose indicated numeric range contains the number you rolled. If there's a token on that square, immediately move it to an empty square of your choice, unless fewer than three unmarked squares now remain; in that case, simply remove the token entirely.

For the remainder of the scene, tokens may not be moved to any marked square. In addition, if you suffer further strain, and the square indicated by your d66 roll is already marked, your character is incapacitated, and may not participate in tests at all until they recover.

All strain is cleared – and any discarded tokens restored – at the end of each scene. Incapacitated characters also recover at this time.

[thepinkpanther83]

And They Were Roommates (Pt.16)

Chapter Sixteen: “Sanctuary in the Storm”

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

Previous Chapter: Chapter Fifteen: “Costumes and Catastrophes” Next Chapter: Chapter Seventeen: “The Hellfire Club™”

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

Chapter Sixteen: “Sanctuary in the Storm”

You wake up to the sound of rain battering the windows like it's got a grudge. The room is still dim, that heavy, muted gray morning light that makes it feel like the whole world hit the snooze button.

Eddie's breathing slow and steady beside you, tangled in the sheets like he lost a wrestling match overnight. His hair's a wreck, half in his face, the other half sticking up in ridiculous angles.

You smile to yourself, tucked against the warmth of him.

Plans for the day- some errands, maybe meeting up with Robin and Steve- dissolve into the sound of the rain. There’s no way you're leaving the house.

Eddie stirs when you shift a little, his hand blindly finding your hip like a magnet. He peels one eye open.

"'S raining?" he croaks, voice raspy with sleep.

You nod, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. "Torrentially."

He grins, slow and wicked. "Guess we're trapped, sweetheart. No choice but to stay in bed all day."

He drags you closer, shameless about it, the kind of affection that's sloppy and unfiltered now that you’re his.

"Mmm, the horror," you murmur against his chest, making him laugh- a deep, sleepy rumble you feel under your palm.

Neither of you have anywhere to be. No makeup, no pants, no agenda except maybe seeing how long you can stay horizontal before hunger forces you to move.

You last approximately fifteen minutes.

The low growl of your stomach betrays you first, and Eddie snickers into the top of your hair.

"You know," he murmurs, lips brushing your temple, "I was willing to risk starvation for another few hours of this."

You snort, lifting your head to look at him properly. His hair is a wreck. His lashes are a mess. He's beautiful.

"Yeah, well," you tap his nose with your fingertip, "I'd rather not die in bed because we were too lazy to feed ourselves."

Eddie grins, a slow and wicked thing, and stretches like a satisfied cat beneath you. "If that's how I gotta go, sweetheart... ain't a bad way."

You shove him lightly, making him laugh harder, and roll out of bed with a groan. The rain drums louder now, sounding even more relentless against the windows.

In the kitchen, Eddie trails after you barefoot, yawning like a great big lion. He's wearing one of your hoodies now- one that’s a little snug across his shoulders and rides up when he stretches, flashing a tempting sliver of skin you pointedly refuse to comment on.

He already knows. The smug bastard always knows.

"You want me to make breakfast?" he offers, way too cheerfully.

You freeze mid-step, whipping around slowly.

The last time Eddie "made breakfast," he had somehow set a Pop-Tart on fire.

He blinks at your horror. "What?"

"No offense, baby, but I'd rather not have to call the fire department before noon."

Eddie clutches his chest dramatically, staggering backward. "My own girlfriend! Doubting my culinary prowess! Betrayal most foul!"

You shake your head, laughing, and tug open the pantry. "Let's do something safer. Chili for brunch. We have everything for it, and I can walk you through it."

Eddie's eyes light up like you just handed him an axe and pointed him at a dragon.

"Ohoho," he says, rubbing his hands together. "Hell yeah, baby. Let's make some chili."

It turns into a full-on production.

You assign Eddie veggie-chopping duty- he takes it way too seriously, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he dices peppers with slow, dramatic precision. "Chef Munson at your service, darling." He throws in commentary like he’s on a cooking show: "Now, ladies and gentlemen, the key to a perfect dice is having no clue what you're doing but refusing to admit it."

You barely hold it together.

There’s a small flour-dust accident. Some unauthorized spoon-licking. Eddie "accidentally" leaves a smudge of tomato paste on your cheek just so he has an excuse to lick it off.

By the time the chili’s bubbling happily on the stove, Eddie's beaming at you like a kid who just brought home an A+ on a test.

"Sweetheart," he says reverently, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, chin hooked over your shoulder, "we made food. Together. No one died. Nothing exploded."

"I know," you say, mock-serious. "I’m scared too."

He snickers into your neck, hands warm on your hips.

Bellies full, the two of you sprawl out in the living room, a blanket tossed over your laps, the rainy world shut out beyond the walls.

Eddie snoops casually… because of course he does, pulling down one of your old notebooks off a side table. He flips through it lazily… then freezes.

He cackles.

"Ooh- what's this, my darling? 'Mrs. Munson' doodled all over your diary? 'Eddie Munson is sooooo cute' -look at all the extra O's, babe! That's dedication!"

You snatch for it. He yanks it out of reach, absolutely gleeful.

"You were obsessed," he says, mock-swooning. "Head over heels! Crushing so hard you were practically concussed!"

"Give me that, you menace!"

"Nope!" he laughs, darting off the couch and waving it over his head like a prize.

A short, ridiculous chase ensues. Furniture is bumped. The blanket is a casualty. You finally tackle him onto the couch with a dramatic huff, both of you breathless and tangled up in laughter.

He gazes up at you, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling.

"I knew it," he says, voice low and smug. "You’ve wanted me since I’ve moved in."

You roll your eyes, grinning despite yourself. "Shut up, Munson."

"Make me," he dares, smiling wickedly.

You do.

Later, when the rain hasn’t let up and you’re both still vibrating from the sugar rush of chili and stolen kisses, Eddie busts out his old deck of cards- the deck, the one you played with that first weird, electric night he moved in. The corners are bent, and the Joker has a bite mark in it for some reason he said he can’t remember.

He flops down cross-legged on the rug, slapping the deck on the coffee table with a showman’s flourish. "Alright, sweetheart. We playing poker, or are we playing poker." Eddie waggles his brows. "Gonna strip you down card by card?"

You raise an eyebrow, lounging sideways on the couch like a cat in the sun. "You realize you’d lose that game, right?"

Eddie clutches his heart like you shot him. "Insulted and challenged. This day just keeps getting better."

You slide off the couch to join him, knee knocking his, and he immediately starts shuffling with all the theatrics of a magician on drugs. Cards flutter, slap, whip through the air.

"So what's the wager?" you ask innocently, leaning close.

His grin is all teeth. "Clothes, obviously. Unless you’d rather bet for kitchen utensils or tax documents-"

"Strip poker it is," you say, stealing the deck right out of his hands before he can rig it with whatever chaos he was planning.

You deal the first round. He immediately accuses you of stacking the deck. You accuse him of already cheating, and somehow by the third hand, both of you are down a sock and arguing over whether a shoelace counts as an article of clothing.

Eddie cheats shamelessly.

He peeks at your cards when he thinks you’re distracted.

He bluffs like it’s a professional sport.

He uses distraction tactics- eyebrow waggles, smoldering stares, his foot "accidentally" brushing your thigh under the table.

You call him out constantly.

"That’s not a straight, Eddie, that’s a hot mess."

He gasps. "So are we, baby. Why ruin the theme?"

Clothes are lost with dramatic flair.

When he has to give up a sock, he mourns it like it was a fallen soldier. "Nooooo, not my lucky sock," he wails, cradling it to his chest before flinging it over his shoulder.

When you lose your shirt, he whistles like it’s a strip club performance. "Oh, this is the best game ever invented. Who do I send a thank-you letter to? Mr. Poker?"

Eventually, the game devolves into a wrestling match, because he definitely tries to steal cards out of your pile when he thinks you’re looking the other way.

“Aha!” you pounce on him, knocking the deck flying.

"Wait…wait! Mercy!" Eddie laughs, twisting underneath you as you try to pry the cards from his hands. He’s warm and grinning and stubborn and so smug, even as he’s pinned on his back.

"You cheated, Munson!"

"I was winning creatively," he says, breathless and proud.

"You were winning like a raccoon in a trash can."

"That’s speciesist."

You wrestle for a few more ridiculous seconds before you manage to pin him properly, thighs bracketing his hips, hands gripping his wrists. He’s grinning up at you, chest heaving, curls wild.

"God," he says, gazing up at you like you’re something divine. "You look so good when you’re trying to kill me."

You lean in slowly, deliberately, your hair falling forward to tickle his cheek. “I’d never kill you, Eddie,” you murmur.

He smirks. “Just humiliate me. Strip me down. Win every round.”

"Exactly."

You kiss him. He kisses back like he's been waiting all day for it- open, soft, hungry in a way that feels more like affection than desire.

At some point in the aftermath, while you’re both still tangled on the rug in a loose, lazy knot, you disappear into his bedroom and return a few minutes later in only his Metallica tee.

It hangs off your frame perfectly- too wide at the neck, too long in the sleeve, skimming just over the tops of your thighs, barely modest, barely covering your nudity beneath.

Eddie goes very still when he sees you.

"You know," he says, voice rough, “that’s illegal.”

You smile, climbing into his lap and pressing a kiss under his jaw. “Then arrest me.”

He exhales through his nose, arms looping around your waist. "Looking like that. In my shirt. Not fair, baby."

"You gonna do something about it?"

His eyes darken slightly. One hand splays across the small of your back, firm and possessive.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, lips brushing your jaw, "you know I always do."

His fingers tighten on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he leans up to capture your lips in a slow, filthy kiss. The kind that makes your toes curl and your breath hitch.

"You," he murmurs between kisses, voice rough, "are trying to ruin me."

You grin against his mouth. "Is it working?"

Eddie groans, hands sliding up under the stolen shirt to grip your bare waist. "Oh, fuck yes."

The cards are forgotten. The game abandoned.

Because Eddie Munson has priorities.

And right now?

You're all of them.

He kisses you back- hungry this time, like the slow burn's given way to a greedy ache he’s done pretending not to feel. His hands curve under your thighs, and with a rough little growl, he lifts you both off the floor.

“Eddie-” you gasp, instinctively wrapping your arms around his shoulders as your legs lock around his waist.

“Shh,” he grins against your mouth, breath hot and mischievous. “I got you.”

He carries you toward the kitchen like he’s on a mission, all heat and intent. You barely have time to wonder what he’s up to before your back meets the cool edge of the kitchen counter, his body pressing between your thighs as he hitches your hips forward.

“You remember what I said?” he rasps, nosing along your jaw, lips grazing your throat. “‘Bout returning the favor?”

You nod, lips parted, breath catching as his fingers dip beneath his Metallica shirt, slow and reverent.

He chuckles darkly. “Good girl. ‘Cause I’ve been thinking about it. A lot.”

Before you can answer, he pulls back just enough to open the nearest cabinet, rummaging with the urgency of a man on a divine quest. He mutters to himself, triumphant when he pulls out a bottle of syrup- sticky, amber, and unmistakable.

You blink. “Seriously?”

Eddie just winks. “Don’t act surprised. You gave me the deluxe treatment, sweetheart. Gotta up my game.” He pops the cap with a grin so sinful it should come with a warning label.

He drizzles a slow line of syrup down your inner thigh- just a taste, and meets your gaze with a look so molten it’s almost reverent.

“Messy,” you murmur, heart pounding.

“Delicious,” he corrects, and then he’s sinking to his knees on the tiled floor, hands sliding under your thighs again to hold you open like a goddamn prayer.

His mouth is hot when it lands against your skin, tongue slow and teasing as he licks a deliberate stripe up your leg, catching the syrup with a low hum of satisfaction. You whimper, threading your fingers into his hair as he keeps going, closer, closer-

When he finally kisses you where you need him, it's with a sort of filthy devotion that makes your knees threaten to give out. His tongue slides through your folds with practiced ease, the syrup a sweet, sticky accent to the way he eats you like he’s starved. Like you're his favorite flavor in the world.

He moans into you, and the vibration sends sparks shooting up your spine. One of his hands slides to your stomach, holding you steady while the other toys with your clit, circling in slow, maddening patterns.

“Fuck- Eddie…” Your voice is barely there, trembling, your body already curling forward.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs against you. “Wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

And you do. Hard. Shattering with a cry that echoes off the kitchen tile, his name tangled in it like a psalm. He holds you through it, licking you through the aftershocks like he’s savoring every tremble, every twitch.

When he finally rises, his mouth glistening, hair tousled and wild, he grins at you like the devil himself.

“You should see yourself right now… wrecked and mine.” he pants. “Sweetest fuckin’ favor I’ve ever given. Still think I’m really the one who lucked out. And damn, you taste better than the syrup.”

You’re still panting, dazed and aching in the best way. “Jesus.”

“Close,” he teases, licking syrup from his bottom lip. “But tonight, sweetheart? It’s Munson you’re praying to.”

You let out a shaky breath, your laugh caught somewhere between stunned and wrecked. “Cocky bastard.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, dragging his hands slowly up your thighs, spreading sticky trails of syrup and sin along your skin. “And you love it.”

You don’t argue. Can’t. Not when he’s looking at you like that- like he could devour you all over again and still not be satisfied.

His fingers flex at your waist, thumbs brushing the edge of your ribs beneath the shirt you stole from him. “You good?” he asks, a little more serious, eyes scanning your face like he’s double-checking the answer he already knows.

You nod, breathless. “You’re gonna fuck me on the counter now, right?”

That grin of his returns- feral, gleaming. “God, I love you.”

He kisses you again, filthy and deep, his hips rocking forward just enough to make your toes curl as you feel the full press of him through his sweats. He’s hard- painfully hard, and from the way he groans into your mouth, he’s just about at his breaking point.

“Hold on tight, baby,” he murmurs, pulling you closer until you were barely on the counter anymore, precariously balanced. He nudges your thighs wider as he starts working on loosening the tie of his sweats. “Gotta take care of my girl.”

You do, fingers gripping the edge of the counter as he frees himself, cock flushed and slick at the tip, syrup-smeared from where your thighs pressed together. He strokes himself against you once, twice, eyes fixed on your cunt like it’s the last thing he’ll ever see.

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasps. “Still dripping for me.”

He lines himself up, teasing your entrance with slow, shallow thrusts that make you squirm and whimper, legs tightening around his hips in a silent plea.

“Patience,” he warns, breath ragged. “Wanna feel everything.”

Then he pushes in- slow, steady, deep, and the stretch steals the breath from your lungs. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as he fills you to the hilt, his low moan vibrating against your mouth as he kisses you through it.

“Jesus, baby,” he pants, rocking into you once, then again, harder. “So fuckin’ tight- still so wet-”

Your head tips back with a cry as he starts to move, fucking you with long, hungry strokes that have the counter creaking behind you. His grip is bruising on your hips, syrup-slick and desperate, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

He leans in close, forehead pressed to yours, sweat starting to bead at his temples. “You feel that?” he growls. “That’s all yours, baby. Always been yours.”

You can’t speak. Just moan, body shuddering with every thrust, every filthy promise he groans against your neck.

“Say it,” he pleads, voice fraying. “Tell me I’m yours.”

“You’re mine,” you whisper. Then louder- needier. “You’re mine, Eddie. All fucking mine.”

He chokes on a laugh, something wild in it. “Damn right.”

His pace turns punishing then, every thrust sharp and deep, angled just right to have you seeing stars. Your legs tremble around him, breath stuttering, climax building all over again in a fever rush that leaves no room for thought.

“Gonna cum for me again?” he asks, panting into your mouth. “Wanna feel you- fuck- wanna feel you cum while I’m inside you, sweetheart-”

Your answer is a cry, your body tensing, back arching off the counter as you shatter in his arms again, raw and boneless and clinging to him like gravity itself gave up.

He follows with a strangled curse, thrusts stuttering as he spills into you, hips jerking in uneven pulses until he’s spent and shaking, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

For a moment, the only sound is the sharp panting of two people completely wrecked by each other. Then:

“Kitchen’s officially out of commission for now,” he mutters, still buried deep, lips brushing your collarbone. “We’re gonna need takeout for dinner.”

The rain hasn’t stopped.

If anything, it’s gotten worse- pounding against the windows like it’s demanding to be let in. Thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance, low and threatening.

But inside?

Inside is warm.

Inside is Eddie.

His fingers trace lazy patterns over your bare shoulder as you lie tangled together in the dim glow of the living room lamp. His other hand is tucked behind his head, his hair a wild halo against the pillow.

"You ever think about how weird it is?" he asks suddenly, voice soft.

You tilt your head to look at him. "What?"

"That we ended up here." He gestures vaguely between the two of you. "Like, out of all the people in this shitty little town... it's us."

You smile, tracing the tattoo on his chest and forearm- the swarm of bats, the spider, the demonic skull. "You saying fate’s got a sense of humor?"

Eddie snorts. "Fate’s got a sick sense of humor if it thought throwing us together was a good idea."

You press a kiss to his shoulder. "Best bad idea it’s ever had."

He grins, turning his head to look at you properly. His eyes are dark, warm, yours. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Eddie exhales, long and slow, before rolling onto his side to face you fully. His fingers brush your cheek, tucking a loose lock of hair behind your ear.

"Good," he murmurs. "'Cause I ain't ever letting you go."

The couch is a mess.

You’re both half-covered in one of those scratchy old throw blankets Eddie swears has sentimental value- he stole it from the back of Wayne’s recliner- and the living room looks like a storm blew through. But neither of you cares.

The rain's still hammering the windows. A flickering candle on the coffee table fights valiantly against the dark.

Eddie stretches with a grunt, one leg draped lazily over yours. “Okay, but seriously,” he says, mouth barely moving, “hear me out- what if we move the couch to face the window? Rain-watching, babe. Total vibe.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And block the TV?”

He pauses. “...Shit. Okay. Counter-proposal- bed in the living room.”

You snort. “You just wanna live like a gremlin.”

“Correction,” he says, rolling dramatically to pin you. “Your gremlin.”

You laugh into his shoulder. “Fine. Let’s do it. Furniture chaos. Let’s rearrange everything and ruin my perfectly functional setup.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs.

What follows is a symphony of bad decisions: the bookshelf ends up half-turned, the coffee table gets wedged behind the armchair for some reason, and the couch is now mysteriously at a diagonal Eddie insists is “feng shui as fuck.”

You're in the middle of trying to lift one end of a side table when Eddie calls out, “Okay, so what if we moved you right here-” and suddenly his arms are around your waist, spinning you toward him, off-balance and laughing.

Your back hits the floor with a thump softened only slightly by the carpet. He lands on top of you, breathless and grinning.

“Eddie!” you squeal, half-protest, half-laugh.

“Shh,” he says, already kissing you. “Can’t help it. Got distracted by my favorite part of the furniture.”

“You’re the worst,” you say, giggling as he kisses down your neck.

“You love it.” He grins before gesturing out to the room. “Okay, but hear me out,” he sits up to survey the war zone. “What if we move the fridge in here to make it easier to grab snacks while we watch TV?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You wound me.”

“You already bruised your hip on the side table.”

Eddie throws himself down dramatically. “Then let me die here, in the arms of modern chaos. Tell Wayne I love him.”

You roll your eyes, turning beside him in a heap of limbs and laughter. He grins at you, eyes twinkling.

“Furniture’s not the only thing I wanna rearrange tonight,” he mutters, tugging you closer until you’re nose to nose.

“Oh, my God, you are insatiable.”

He hums. “Mm. Just resourceful.”

The next few minutes dissolve into a tangle of kisses and bad jokes on the floor, his hand sneaking under your shirt again until your laughter fades into soft sighs and breathless grins.

Eventually, you both quiet again, cheek to cheek, limbs a mess, rain still tapping against the windows.

Then Eddie speaks, voice muffled against your shoulder.

“Thanksgivings coming up in a few weeks… Wayne says he’s got a turkey bigger than a tire this year. Swears it still had vengeance in its eyes when he bought it.”

“Dear god.”

“We do it big,” he says solemnly.

You groan. “Is it safe to be around something that size?”

He snorts. “Honestly? Probably not. Last year he tried to deep fry one on the porch in a car part tub and nearly set his jeans on fire.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“It is to a Munson,” he replies smugly. “You ready for the full Munson Family Thanksgiving Extravaganza? Me, Wayne, weird store-bought pies, and possibly a catastrophic poultry event?”

You grin. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re brave.”

“Or in love.”

Eddie looks at you, suddenly soft. “Yeah. Same thing, I think.”

His fingers trace slow circles on your hip, his expression shifting into something tender and unguarded. The kind of look he only ever gives you when he thinks no one else is watching.

"Wayne's gonna be insufferable," he murmurs, thumb brushing your skin. "He's been smug as hell since he found out I was serious about you."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

Eddie groans, rolling his eyes. "Dude knew before I told him. Kept making these stupid little comments like, 'That girl's got you wrapped tighter than a damn extension cord, boy.'" He mimics Wayne's gruff voice perfectly, making you laugh.

"And was he wrong?"

Eddie hesitates. Then, with a dramatic sigh, flopping back to the floor, arm thrown over his face. "No. No, he was not wrong."

You grin, propping yourself up on your elbow to look down at him. "Admitting defeat, Munson?"

He peeks out from under his arm, eyes glinting. "Nah. Just strategizing."

"Uh-huh."

"See," he says, rolling toward you again, voice dropping into that low, conspiratorial tone that always makes your stomach flip, "I figure if I'm already wrapped up, might as well lean into it." His fingers trail up your side, slow and deliberate. "Wayne's got a point- you do have me. All of me. So..."

He kisses you, slow and deep, until you're breathless.

The rain keeps falling. The candle flickers. And the wrecked living room might as well be a cathedral. “...Might as well make it impossible for you to ever walk away,” he says, half a joke, half a truth. “Make sure you never want to let go,” he murmurs with a wicked smile.

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be tagged!

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