PREVIOUS THREAD: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/44697959/
CHARACTERS AND PLACES: https://docs.google.com/document/d/19gNVgtevar647l4ZumUaVH6GlJzvxLlDNKaH8DrQMWE/edit?usp=sharing
You are Brianna la Croix, evidently the world's least expected love guru (/why/?), and you've finally got some time to yourself to just sit and think.
Like most times you have a spare few hours to sit and think, your mind wanders back to your past.
You were nine when you ran away from home. Your Grandpa told you later that it was a natural thing, that every kid tries to run away from home sometimes, but at the time you kinda felt like an asshole.
When you were gone, you'd made your first dead friend.
Not your first friend period - you had /friends/, and if you only had a /few/ friends, that was okay, because they were /good/ friends. But that afternoon you and Grandmother had a fight, and you said something hurtful, and she said something hurtful back, and next thing you remember you were sneaking out of your room, packing a canoe with food and hunting supplies, and preparing to Make It On Your Own.
You'd learned well from your Grandpa, but the Blind Marsh has no pity whatsoever, and you were only nine. It still took nearly four hours for you to go from 'I can do this' to 'maybe this was a bad plan' to 'sweet Gods, I'm going to die'.
The ghost girl, who had seemed so much older than you at the time - maybe fifteen when she'd died, with a curious look in her eyes and ugly bruises around her neck - came when you were sobbing in your boat, after you'd realized you were lost and alone and didn't know how to get back home.
"Hey," the ghost murmured. "I'm Nicole. Are you lost?"
"Yes," you'd told her, and she'd put a hand on your shoulder and smiled.
"Let's get you home."
So, speaking of Boar Ride, might we want to, this Interlude, go back and get it out of the Obstacle Course so we can have a Noble Undead Steed, in addition to something a bit tankier and that fills a melee role better without being too humanoid or, hopefully, having the issue that a Draug would of needing flesh every day?
Nicole helped you paddle your boat to a high, hollow tree, and while you were surprised to find a skeleton inside of it, you weren't upset or scared. You were used to the dead, even then.
"That's me," the teen said, a little wryly. "That's where I got stuck, after I died. I don't mind too much. There's worse gravestones than a whole tree."
"What happened?" you'd asked, all sympathy and concern.
"I fell in love with a handsome guy big on poetry and short on cash, then believed him when he said we could start a new life together if I brought some money to elope with."
"...I don't...oh. /Oh/."
"Yeah," Nicole said, with a little shrug. "Just scoot my bones and get comfy, and I'll get help, okay?"
"I'm scared," you'd whispered, and Nicole had taken your hand and given you a brave smile.
"Hi Scared," she'd joked. "I'm Nikkie."
She'd stayed with you until you fell asleep, and then had gone to get your Grandpa. There'd been tearful hugs and worried scolding, and you'd taken both, obediently.
"Your grandfather says you made a friend," Grandmother la Croix said, when the crying and the holding was all done. "A restless shade, who seemed friendly enough."
"...Are you gonna make me fight her?" you'd asked, in a small voice.
"No, little one. I'd like you to be her friend, if you want to be. Your grandfather will help you visit, when you've time, as long as you promise not to neglect the living for the dead. But..." your grandmother's old, bony hand had touched your shoulder, with regret. "I need you to do something for me."
"What?" You remember it, even now, all wide eyes and loyal worry.
"I need you to remember that no one wants to be a ghost, Brianna. Even the ones that think they do. One day, Nicole will need a friend to help her move on, because death is for the dead, and she is refusing the gift offered to her."
"...I promise," you'd said, softly, and that was that.
Oooh, I can see this and approve. Boar are fucking tough as hell, and those tusks /will/ fuck you up if you get in its way. Even if we ultimately don't need a steed, we can use it for tanking in melee and just to carry our shit from place to place.
Question Vox; would the various townspeople and uneducated village folk be more or less scared of our undead if they consist of animals?
At first, growing up, Nicole had been the cool older friend, the girl who'd been there and done that and always had great advice. When you started showing an interest in boys, she'd talk them with you for hours.
She tried, bless her, when you also showed an interest in girls, but eventually you and her had a long talk still written in one of your diaries under 'Nikkie doesn't girls'.
Eventually, though, you started to realize what your grandmother was talking about. You were changing, and Nicole, she stayed the same. Conversations with her got snappish sometimes, upset for reasons that seemed stupid to you. When you came to her seeking comfort after conjuring your first shadow, she'd given you such a wide-eyed look of innocent fear that you hadn't been able to admit to her that you were the one who'd killed the man.
Her banishment had marked the final line of passage between your apprenticeship and independence. She'd been grateful, in the end, but it's always a hell of a thing to lose a friend, and your grandmother respected your right to mourn.
You stare out over the water and remember the last things she'd said to you: "I'm glad I stuck around long enough to meet you."
Your lips curl into a little smile, there in the Mine. "Hi Glad," you murmur. "I'm Bri."
> It's late. Get some dinner and go to bed.
> See how Fetch is getting on.
> See how Nathan and Amy are doing.
huh, I'd forgotten about the boar.
>bat for stealth/scout
>boar for heavy-hitting
I can see it working. I like it a lot more than hands, at any rate.
The tusks won't need much modifying, but it may be prudent to make those feet into real stomping machines, maybe even getting the boar version of horseshoes
For a lot of people, undead at all is kinda Bad Juju, but there's no denying that it provokes less of a gut-level fear and horror reaction than seeing something you know used to be a person. There's a certain immediate 'no' that a lot of people feel on seeing a skeleton or zombie of a humanoid, because it hits them in the uncanny valley and strikes them as, well, a desecration. A skeletal wolf might be creepy, but it doesn't make you think "Dear gods, I'm next".
Flashback finally written. Questions, comments, critique, discussion, and feedback are, as always, welcome. I need to go the fuck to sleep, so I'll field them in seven hours or so when I wake up.
Thank you all again for reading and participating! I need to turn off the PC for awhile and pass the hell oooouuuuuut.
Would a write-in be possible? If so;
>See how Diving Shadow and Lawrence are doing.
We could ask them what the opinion of harpies in the Roost, and potentially other inhabitants of the lower Dungeon, is on necromancy.
It just doesn't seem fair for Brianna to go from Big Damn Hero to Pariah because she has a different skill set.
Oh Gods. A Vision has come to me. Of two hands riding a bird, riding another bird, riding a necromancer, riding a skeletal boar dressed in battle mail.
That would be cause for worry for a great many people. Of course, nobody but a necromancer would be able to /see/ half of the gathering, since they'd be ghosts.
Okay, I'm gonna go die of exhaustion, but I'll be working on the next doodle when I arise from my pillowy grave.
To sweet dreams of Lich fingers doing lewd things to innocent sleeping bodies. It was inevitable that I was going to sexualize our undead liege.
while that's perfectly fine for the boar, metal on something small like the chickens will weigh them down something fierce. The dumber ones might benefit, but Fetch is harder to kill when he can dodge. It's still kind of easy to damage an armor plated chicken when you have a great size and leverage advantage.
I'm HOPING it'll look like this by the time we're done with it
>You're cold, and naked, and your head hurts, and the air is freezing, and /gods what is that shuffling, sniffing sound, it's fucking massive/.
Combine that with this:
>You land on coarse, brisly fur. The beast beneath you is massive, and freezes up in surprise. You desperately turn yourself around and grab what is either massive tusks or the world's most shittily-placed scythe-like claws.
And I would say probably at least draft horse, maybe bull.
I will note it is five in the morning and the last time I looked up armor it was lorica segmentata; I was, however, under the impression that there was armor similar to but distinct from brigandine in that it used less metal and placed it differently, which that was a decent descriptor of?
> "Hi Scared," she'd joked. "I'm Nikkie."
> "Hi Glad," you murmur. "I'm Bri."
May both of you die beneath the hammers of Hell.
> See how Fetch is getting on.
No need to bother Nate and Ames just yet, and Lawrence is likely still occupied with the miners. Seems to be a bit early for dinner and bed as well. We didn't do much today, all things considered.
"Studded Leather" isn't really studded leather. The studs are there to hold the metal plates together, the leather is just an outer covering. Leather is WEAKENED by studs, and armor that is primarily leather is a single piece or connected using more suitable methods.
I was tossing and turning to the tune of my neighbor's car fixings (SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU ASSHOLE), when I had a thought.
Bri and Amy have both had moments where they just needed to be held and have a good cry. And I am man enough to admit that releasing from fluids from your eyeholes is cathartic. And that Nathan's mother is probably going to be an enemy somewhere down the line.
Things are going to get VERY sad for Nate.
OK. Thoughts shared, now back to bed. Thank God for earplugs.
I know that feeling. Fortunately I wasn't trying to sleep so I just turned on Kamelot and put the volume up, but WHO THE FUCK RUNS A DRILL AT SIX IN THE MORNING IN A GODDAMN APARTMENT.
I was ROTC for a bit in college. One of my friends mentioned that thour group would wake her up as we passed by the apartments she was in when we were singing cadence during PT at 5/6 in the morning.
The kicker? She only ever heard 'You Can't Ride In My Little Red Wagon'. I was the one who belted that particular one out. Whoops.
six is okay, considering they've probably been up since 4 or some other godawful time.
I on the other hand, need to contend with a roommate's alarm set to 6, set for NO other reason than "just in case" EVERY. DAY. AND IT DOESN'T EVEN WAKE HIM UP.
While I'm thinking about it, you asked for thoughts on Amy a while back. Topic necromancy, ho!
Amy seems very simple in practice. She does what she wants, and if she has problems, she gets rid of them. This can involve violence, since The Roost desensitized her to the act itself, or just forgetting about it. The wonderful thing about the scatterbrained mind - stop paying attention for a bit, and you'll find a lot of the smaller stuff irons itself out.
Dunno what Amy was like when she was on her own after The Roost but before the Vintner. My guess would be wandering. Never really formed attachments that could tie her down since she wouldn't have worked hard at forming them. That'd require focus.
Her situation with the Vintner and her subsequent rescue after some years MADE her want to stick with us. Loyalty and debt stuck her around long enough to form an actual, grounded attachment to us and eventually Nathan. Which presents a unique problem for Amy. Unique in that she HAS one that can't be solved by flying away or killing things. She has to deal with us not being nearly as open and carefree as her, try to think about whether we'd approve of what she's doing before she does it, stuff like that.
She ultimately *wants* to be with us. It's just far more work than she's used to, and it'll take her a while to acclimate herself with how we act/think so she can go back to her usual self.
>Oh Gods. A Vision has come to me. Of two hands riding a bird, riding another bird, riding a necromancer, riding a skeletal boar dressed in battle mail.
See guys, this is what happens if you let /tg/ play with necromancy.
Yeah, let's see if we can put Amy into words. She's definitely harder to pin down than Bri, in part because we've spent less time in her head.
I'll start with the obvious. She's impulsive, excitable, and generally energetic. She speaks her mind, and doesn't always get why other people are more reserved. She has a vicious streak a mile wide, but (these days, at least) it only comes out against people who are already her enemies.
She's also surprisingly caring, given her upbringing. She's not necessarily good at understanding people, but she feels for them nonetheless.
As much as she's frank about most things, she's not big on showing weakness. We've seen her at her worst, but we /know/ how much the loss of her wings hurt her, and she's brought it up, what, once? Of course, that might have as much to do with not wanting to make us feel bad for saving her life, but I suspect there's something of an instinctual "don't let them see me bleed" mindset going on also.
End of the day, I think Amy's pretty frank about who she is. And I think maybe that's because she's never been more than about a foot away from dying at any point in her life, and she's never really dealt with the long term unless it also makes her (or someone else) happy /now/.
Also, and I've been thinking this for a while and really just need to get it off my chest, she's like if someone took Aerie's general character concept from Baldur's Gate and decided to make her awesome instead of meek and kind of whiny.
I didn't say impossible, just hard.
It'd be really difficult, though.
More someone used the the wrong link for their quest.
Great, we have a troll.
I'd say complain to LL, but like fuck he'll do anything.
If he started unfucking troll-archived quests, he'd never have time for anything else.
The last "real" False Dendrite Quest is #142.
This guy is misarchiving quest episodes before they're even made with proper tagging and everything.
Email the guy that runs suptg.
As others said, try to get in touch with the archives administrator.
In the meantime, you may include direct archived thread link http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/44726134/ in the archival description of #31 as "here's where #30 went" as well as the opening post.
Can't misarchive a thread before it's made - needs a number.
He may drop something else as fake DLQ 31 but that's only a little confusing for our side.
Just gotta keep an eye out for his presence around the sage time and drop the next one into archive immediately upon opening.
Alright, I finally have coffee and painkillers (now stepped down to the stuff that doesn't make me high as fuck). Votes called, writing.
I am having some difficulty finding the appropriate email address for the archive administrator.
You light another cigarette, pondering what to do. Not in the general sense, but because you have to go to bed /sometime/, but you still need to eat your last meal of the day, maybe wind down a little, and actually finish, you know, /relaxing/.
Relaxing. That thing you're bad at. Admittedly it doesn't help that the Store feels less like a town and more like a war camp right now, but godsdamn. You need a lesson in chilling the fuck out.
You consider checking up on Nathan and Amy, but discard the idea after you examine it for a minute. It'd be a bit of a thing to tell Nathan to spend some quality time with her, only to interrupt them. Best case is you're being rude; worst case is either he, or she, or both, feel like you don't trust the one with the other. So you stand, slowly, and stretch for a minute, before reaching out with your mind.
<Yes, my queen> the familiar responds, instantly.
<Care to show off your results thus far?>
You're fairly certain the loud bird noise over your telepathic bond is excitement. You chuckle and head for the barn, and this time when the Miners give you a wide berth, you shrug and play with your cane.
Fuck it. Today's been a good fuckin' day.
Inside the Barn you find Diving Shadow, Larry, and Lark leaning against various fixtures with fascinated expressions on their faces. Fetch stands near the center of the room, with Vim and Vigor standing at dutiful attention on the tips of her fingers.
"My lady!" Fetch greets, after you shut the door behind yourself. "My squires are eager to serve. Witness!"
What follows is a show of hand-based acrobatics with a barnyard soundtrack; Vim and Vigor move in response to Fetch's clucked orders. They skitter, scurry, and vanish with remarkable speed - you see them work together to reach high places, pick up objects, and "attack" Lark with an almost insect-like leaping motion.
Fetch clucks, and the two hands scurry to your feet and stand up at attention.
"Good boys," you tell them, and they pause to touch fingers in what you're pretty sure is a high-one. Fetch stands proudly, and you motion him over so you can stroke his feathered neck.
"I have done well?" the knight asks.
"Very well. You've been indispensible, Fetch."
"It is my glory to serve," Fetch says humbly.
> Talk to Diving Shadow and Larry
> Talk to Lark
> Offer to cook for everyone, since Amy & Nate are gone still
> Just do your own thing
>Brianna is the ringleader.
>Amy is on the high-wire.
>Nathan is our strongman.
>Fetch is the daredevil.
>Vim and Vigor are a little clown show.
We ARE the circus. The only thing we're missing is our theoretical undead pig balancing on a ball to the command of our plucky knight.
All of our other minions have personality, flair, and are good for something outside of combat. The chickens are..well, chickens. We could lose them and I wouldn't really give a damn, other than it making things more difficult for Fetch.
The only minions we've had so have been the chickens.
So the only minion that 'has personality and flair' has been Fetch.
I'm aware we had the ferret, but that lasted all of like three threads.
what we need to do is get more chickens for fetch to command an army. Imagine the cuccos from zelda when you piss them off but as skeletons and flesh rotting talons and spins. Our enemies shall learn to fear our skeletal cocks!
You rub Fetch's tiny bone helmet. "I'm gonna take some time to relax. Mind standing watch?"
"My pleasure," Fetch agrees. He calls for the rest of your minions and they slip outside.
"Remarkably trusting," Lark comments.
"He's a familiar," Larry says. "He couldn't betray Brianna."
"And even if he could," you add, "he won't. Lark, can I get a favor from you?"
"Mm?" the elf asks.
"That special customer we talked about? She's out of cigarettes, and would like more. Probably a lot more. I can pay -"
Lark holds his hand up and shakes his head. "She doesn't pay me a clipped coin. I'll go pack some now."
When Lark slips out of the room, you give Amy's parents a grin. "Finally. Privacy."
"That's not ominious," the sorcerer opines.
"Nah, nothing bad. Just wanted to hear how you're doing, and...I dunno, get to know you. Meet the parents, you know?"
Diving Shadow chuckles. "Let's do this where there's chairs."
Chairs turn out to be a good idea, though you can't get over Diving Shadow being perched on the back of hers, talons gripping the wood. She holds hands, quietly, with her husband.
Cold rations get passed around, because no one can be assed to cook.
"I /am/ grateful," Diving Shadow says quietly. "You rescued us both. It would have been very easy to write me off as a traitor to the Mine."
"That's not what I do," you answer, with a shrug. "Are the two of you doing okay?"
"She'll never admit it, but my wife needs to rest," Larry cuts in, before Diving Shadow can answer. "She injured her wing in the battle and needs to give it time. She can help -"
Larry stops when you hold your hand up. "Not what I asked," you tell him. "How are you feeling? How have you been, in your head?"
The two of them exchange a look, and Larry is the first one to look back to you. "Well, all things considered. I won't pretend that my captivity was pleasant, but...I survived the Roost, Bri. I have endured worse before."
"You won't again," you promise, softly. "I'm going to make it right." You dig out your pipe and pack it; when you look back up, lighter poised to ignite the tobacco, both of Amy's parents are giving you a curious look.
"I thought the boy was supposed to be the Hero," Diving Shadow opines.
> What's that supposed to mean?
> I've got a job to do.
> Don't change the subjec.
Seconding. That's totally a Bri thing to say.
>He is. I'm the practical one who stops him from killing himself.
Also, MOAR AHT! Now in technicolor.
Okay, I'm not writing. My head is full of fuck here and I can't focus. I have to leave for work in less than an hour and I don't wanna do what I did last time and try to force something sub-par out.
So...I guess it's Q&A time!
Why do I keep forgetting my questions before QA time?
More serious, how Important are names in this world? As in, how literal is the idea of "names hold power"?
Oh yeah, another one was:
What do you think the languages of the world sound like? I remember you mentioned the main language spoken has four synonyms for disemboweled.
A question for everyone: What do you think the characters sound like? Asking either descriptive or 'sounds like person'.
We're not acting like a Hero. Yes, we do the right thing, but why we do it is a bit different: While a Hero will fight for Good because it is his nature, not taking care of what happens to him in the process, we do it because it is something that has to be done and because we have the means to help. It's a rational decision, not one because of an honor code. (It's also that, but not as the primary motivation)
Moar boar needs bigger tusks. Huge, comically inflated killer-tusks. But I like it.
I think you said you wanted to see me illustrate the scene where Lora asked Brianna what she'd be willing to sacrifice to save Bridgette? I'll do that next then.
These are the other ones I plan to do at some point;
>Nesting Doll of Adorables
Fetch cuddles with Amy, while Brianna strokes Amy's hair, while Nathan kisses Bri's head.
Lora, Seraphim of the Death Choir, Bound But Not Broken.
>Feathery Fedora of Fearlessness
Amy wearing Sir Fetch as a hat, in all of his regal and dignified fluffiness.
>It's A Rough Profession
Nathan and Amy hold Brianna while she cries after talking with her mom.
>Son of Sorrow
Nathan brandishing Verve, with left side of his face appearing as a normal human, and the right featuring his true appearance as a Woundseeker with his shadow reared up behind him.
>Shush Now, Pretty Bird
Brianna and Nathan comfort Amy after some very bad dreams.
Fetch playing matchmaker with our intrepid young heroes.
>The Masochism Tango
Best Bird and Nathan going at it, with Amy being very rough and dominating and Nathan loving every second of it.
>Stand Thine Ground
Nathan staring down the Wraithsteel Serpent.
Lora levitating behind Brianna, with a hand upon her shoulder and her weeping blade raised into the air.
>Who's A Good Girl?
Isoldt tied up and gagged on top of Harry's anvil.
>Big Damn Heroes
The party strikes a group pose over Lora's broken chains.
The moment he started getting fan art and random strangers on the internets telling him they want to jump his delicious Lich bones. Unf.
>What do you think the languages of the world sound like? I remember you mentioned the main language spoken has four synonyms for disemboweled.
This was a joke about English ("disembowel" "gut" "bisect" "eviscerate").
Names have importance and meaning, but are not in themselves magical...usually.
This is highly unlikely. They're too spread.
All of those sound wonderful.
Can we modify bodies before raising them to prevent the "soul shock" you said might occur?
Can we have a physical she'll for our Shadow to move, like say an empty suit of armour?
Can we make undead plague mosquitos or undead wasps? Or a bee swarm? Is that a terrible idea?
Exenterate is a medical term, so it has not the exact same meaning. It's usually reserved for when (almost) the whole of the intestines have to be removed, sometimes with womb and ovaries, usually because of advanced stage cancer.
Well, bisect just means "cut in half", it does not have the additional "take the inside stuff out" meaning. Like you have to bisect an apple with the first cut before you quarter it with the second.
A weapon you can't control belongs to your enemy.
A physical shell for Kat is possible, though it would need an internal light source.
Expand on what you are after with the raising bodies?
Different person, but: We know we can't hotswap Fetch to some other body, because he's got the mind of a chicken (no offense to him). If we'd started by, I dunno, gundamming a load of chickens together into a megachicken-raptor-thing, would that be ok for his conciousness? Or is the constructed mind based off of constituent parts rather than the aggregate?
It miiiiight work out, but you'd be in touchy territory and such a move, ethically, should be discussed with Fetch.
Also potential size problems with the Dungeon not having space for him in all cases there.
Alright folks, I have to go to work. I'll see everyone in roughly six hours and change, at which point I will attempt once again to update. My apologies for my brain being full of spiders here; I dunno what happened.
Q&A remains open while I'm gone, and as always discussion, feedback, and criticism is both welcome and appreciated.
Thank you all for reading and participating!
The problem here is that some people are assuming that our constructs have the same level of consciousness, intelligence and self-awareness that Sir Fetch has. He is a familiar, born from a piece of Brianna's /soul/, and is thus unique. The other chickens and the hands likely only have the intelligence of a dog, not enough to hold a conversation, but enough to understand certain orders.
Now, undead based on humans and other sentient creatures are probably different, but the only skeletons we've seen were that Necromancer's minions and The Caretaker, who are about as far apart as a newt and a dragon.
Mostly true, but we know Kat is both intelligent and (unstably) emotional, with the potential to get more so if we improve her. We also had the option to make our chickens more intelligent, but I'm not sure we ever found out how smart they could get (obviously they'd be _less_ than Fetch, but I don't think it's clear _how much less_).
One thing we should be thinking about before we get too deep into minion-theorycrafting is how we want to power them. Throwing away years of Bri's life is dumb when we could spend an afternoon fishing to get something to sacrifice in our (copious /s) downtime.
>The Masochism Tango
Best Bird and Nathan going at it, with Amy being very rough and dominating and Nathan loving every second of it.
I was very confused when I got to the second half of this sentence and realised it wasn't Fetch and Nathan duelling.
I've been wondering, if fetch was smashed into pieces or just in general defeated. Could we bring him back with a ritual or would we need a new familiar? I mean there ain't a chicken on gods green earth who could replace our knight but I just want to know if we should be Careful with what we throw him at.
It's all in how he's used. He's defeated /two/ demons so far, and is very cunning in battle. While it would not be wise to send him into battle against, say, a dragon, he can handle plenty of foes.
Also, bump for the love of storytime.
I imagine the familiar would be different if we tried again. Do familiars embody some deeply-held aspect of our self? I seem to remember you mentioning Fetch was shaped by child Bri's fascination with stories of knights and Heroes.
Yup. Fetch is our friend, and he's not expendable, but he's also our comrade in arms, our little knight, and we would do him a disservice to keep him from honorable battle in the name of protecting him. Just, you know, no dragons. At least not unsupported.
Familiars reflect some aspect of their creators but it's hard to tell what in advance. So much can change based on form, attitude, circumstance, the magic used, and the master themselves.
You can't see it but I'm blushing. I'm glad to have a new reader!
Three hours and change to call. I'm toying with taking a break tomorrow; my recovery is taking more out of me than I thought. I'll stay in touch.
Just want to say that you are awesome at this, binge read the entire archive in 2 days and have loved every second of it.
The scene of the necromancers execution actually made me tear up a bit. The way you write has me more engaged than every book I've read from "professionals" for the past year. Once again, you're awesome at what you do Lich Master Vox. Hope the recovery goes well!
Ok Vox, good new and bad news. Good news? MOAR AHT! Now with color vision and mood music!
Bad news? I tried a sort of comic panel style for the poker scene, but it looked like shit (at least to my eyes; I'm my own worst critic, so I might be wrong). I'll try again later and hopefully it'll come out better.
"He /is/," you say, stressing the word. "I'm the practical one that keeps him alive. And, you know, the necromancer. I'm disqualified from the Hero role."
"Not from where I'm sitting," the harpy says, with a little grin.
"Do I look like I'm going to rescue any damsels...okay but what about - wait, I did that too..." you look at their classically parental amusement and huff. "Just because I've done some of the job requirements doesn't mean I'm a Hero. I have a brain in my head, for starters."
"Sure," Larry agrees. "That's how you get Heroes that live long enough to start families."
"I am not a Hero!"
"You are literally served by a true and faithful knight of courtly bearing and gentle manner," Diving Shadow points out.
"You sound like Amy when she fucking chewed me out," you complain.
"Chewed you out for being a Hero?" Larry asks.
"I AM NOT A HERO!"
Diving Shadow looks at the frustration on your face and leans forward, something curious in her eyes. "Why not?"
> Necromancers aren't Heroes. That's how it is.
> Heroes don't do what I do. What I have to do.
> Remain silent
She can interact with physical things. She's often put our hat on for us, grabbed someones legs, and just recently tore out the throat of the departed necromancer. She doesn't really need a physical body.
And besides she's kinda the embodiment of the emotions of the kat ladys 'death'. Giving her a body wouldn't necessarily be a wise course of action.
They life cost probably wouldn't be much, but I'm honestly not sure how much use we'd get out of small insects like that. They'd probably pick up that necrovenom that Fetch and the other chickens have, but they're tiny and fragile. Plus we're unlikely to find anything like that outside of Cornucopia or the Mire.
Now, some big ol' classic dungeon Cave Spiders, I can see us using. But then, Vim and Vigor. All they'd need is an upgrade of poison claws and bone tail, and boom! Skeleton scorpions.
I know they are just teasing us, but
>> Heroes don't do what I do. What I have to do.
I'd like to stress the rational aspect again, a bit like >>44743486 did. We do the right thing, but out of a rationale of humanity and decency, not only because it is Good and Just.
Fund it. Although it would clash with the white gloves. And have a hugely different effect on people who see them.
I'm fucking dying anon. Send the ambulence. Call the morgue. Summon my lawyers and bear witness to my mirth-filled ravings as I move into the light.
Alternately, harvest tails or stingers from things that actually have them, enhance the traces of death still left in there.
I mean, make-your-own-stinger works too but if you could get a hold of some giant bees or a snake's fang or something...
>Heroes don't do what I do. What I have to do.
Unfortunately, there's some pretty dark and morbid things in necromancy that neither they nor Nate and Amy have seen. Simply the idea of raising a skeleton made Nate upset; wait till we have to pry information from someone, or use some of the more advanced necromantic rituals that require a significant amount of living flesh.
I was wondering whether their was any way to sort of temper Kat's behavior, make her more like Bri. It would go a long way towards making her easier to manage.
OR, we could just, y'know, get a new shadow. I know the demoness was cool and the first, but if it causes too much trouble, there's always the option to ditch the damn thing.
I like idea of taking some snake fangs and spines, then attaching them at the wrist. That way, the little buggers could have prehensile tails tipped with stingers. Plus, if Bri ever gets her greatcoat, she could hide her hands in her pockets while Vim and Vigor operate as a second set of hands.
>Sword in left hand
If the reference wasn't intentional, OH BOY OH BOY
>>at the left of Our Lady and a little above, we saw an Angel with a flaming sword in his left hand; flashing, it gave out flames that looked as though they would set the world on fire; but they died out in contact with the splendour that Our Lady radiated towards him from her right hand: pointing to the earth with his right hand, the Angel cried out in a loud voice: 'Penance, Penance, Penance!'.
Given what Lora's said ("You'll be able to learn who I am soon enough... Please remember that I didn't ask to be made, I'm a victim of fate" from thread 22 aka 16 Tons edition) and the apparent conviction of the Master that they're doing the right thing, it could be that Lora is prophesized to end all life everywhere, and the Master's trying to stop her.
I'm pretty sure I'm wrong, but Jesus Christ if it turns out I'm on to something here it would tickle me fucking fuchsia.
Alright folks, I need to create some food and eat it. This'll keep me away from the PC (and thus updates) while I work, so I'ma extend the vote.
I'll still have my phone, so I can participate in discussion. Thank you for your patience.
Just remember the La Croix mantra anon.
"Life is for the living, death is for the dead."
Lora didn't choose to be made, or why. Just because the gods decreed that the mortal world would have an expiration date doesn't mean she's evil or that we should stop her from doing her job. Every ending is also a beginning.
There's also the possibility that, rather than reap mortal kind, she's meant to reap the Gods themselves. I wouldn't be surprised at all that the divine would have to engineer their own destruction.
she's going to off herself when we free her isn't she, or get ridiculous amounts of revenge for her unwanted life? the whole heritor thing, and what Silence was talking about? we'll be stuck tending the dungeon, and the gods will finally reap what they had sown.
I'm thinking more like
The bottom of the dungeon is where the new world will be created. Life outside the Dungeon will end, and only then will a new one start.
The Master is trying to take the reigns for that construction, very similar to the Poet's research into Divine Language, and why she was brought in in the first place.
Speaking of Lora shadowruns, I've skipped like a week of threads and just got done binging them and a couple threads back there were theories for Lora being Lucifer analogue which I agreed with.
We've had enough hints that her real name carries some negativity; and given the tendencies of in-character known mythology to be not really in touch with actual things (like the whole demons thing)
> "Heroes don't do what I do. What I have to do. Besides, necromancers aren't Heroes. That's how it is. Nobody wants their children to be told 'That girl with the shadow that likes to kill people, and the skeletons, she's a Hero. Look to her for what you should be like', and being a Hero is at least as much about how people see you as it is what you do; when I save people, they look at me like I'm a snake who just bit the highwayman who'd had a sword to their throat - sure, I saved their life, but they should break my back before they're next. Heroes get looked at like they're halfway to being gods, put on a pedestal as a statue, not buried in a box of mirrors."
Mmm. Night shifts are so much fun, aren't they? I mean, it's not like I needed a life or have friends or relatives.
Y'know, I was wondering something; would Bri be able to spend some time crafting some more talismans for our intrepid heroes? Maybe something that can let them see ghosts like Bri can, or maybe a means of communicating telepathically?
"You taken a look at me lately?" you ask the harpy, holding her gaze. "Do you think they bury Heroes in mirror-lined boxes? You think Heroes have to stop and ask themselves, 'am I heading down a road that ends in undead armies'?"
You gesture with your cigarette, pointing with it in accusation. "I do shit Nathan can't and shouldn't have to. The rough, bloody, needful shit that shouldn't have to be done but does anyway, because sometimes that's life, and that's death. Fuck, I killed a man in agony so I could turn him into an undead crocodile, and it doesn't matter that he asked for it." You put the cigarette back between your lips and take a long drag. "That shit haunts you. It sticks with you, the way their skin twitches. The little sounds of pain. You put your knife through a murderer's jaw and up into their brain, and you steal their death to make a servant for yourself. That sound fucking heroic?"
You stand, in the dead silence that follows. "Glad you're doing well. Lots to do tomorrow."
They don't raise an objection when you leave the room. You sit up on your cot, chain smoking, feeling unreasonably angry.
They had no right to call you that.
The door creaks open, admitting Nathan and Amy. They look solemn but, you think, not bad - the sort of serious that follows a deep talk that ended well. When they see you, Amy's face colors with concern.
> "Don't even start."
> "Welcome back."
> "...Can we push the cots together?"
> "...Can we push the cots together?"
No sex, just the comfort of physical contact. Nothing worse than being called a hero when you know just how far short of that you fall - and just how hard heroes make it for those the leave behind. Call me a hero when I'm dead, or better yet not at all.
Source: I'm a Paramedic and only douchebags call themselves heroes.
>"...Can we push the cots together?"
Cuddlepile. Brianna is in need of hugs and affection.
She almost sounds convinced that only another necromancer could truly understand who she is and why she does what she does. Sad, but in her experience, probably true.
Man, I met a guy the other night who lost a kid barely into his twenties, then he had to tell the girlfriend and parents. Shit's fucked, and you guys are fucking troopers for carrying on.
...Well shit. My condolances if they're appropriate, my friend. Don't really know what to say in the context except that I strive to treat the things I handle in the quest with respect. Lemme know if I fall short of that, will ya?
I'm gonna leave the vote and discussion open overnight. I need sleep and I'm finally wound down enough from work to get some. Questions, comments, discussion, feedback, and criticisms are both welcome and appreciated; you folks help me improve.
Thank you all for reading and participating!
Are the Elder Evils/Lovecraftian abominations a thing in your magical realm? I don't know how effective necromancy would be against Cthulhu.
Condolences accepted but unnecessary. It sucks in it's own ways, walking is about 30% more energy consuming and moving uphill or over uneven terrain sucks ass without an ankle or any give to the bottom of my foot respectively, however I get all the best parking and a whole new world of foot based humor has opened to me. Silver linings and such.
I dunno about Elder Evils, but I get the feeling we might see pic related later.
>"...Hey Nate, promise me you'll take care of yourself, and I'll promise to do the same. That when it comes to Hard Choices, we won't burn ourselves out until there's nothing left."
>sword and knife-fighting lessons
we had knife fighting? Or do you just mean the weakpoints that you would normally aim for using similarly small weapons like the bone quills?
Had some contact with LL about the archive and he'll fix it up eventually, might take a while since there are also random threads that have been archived as quests.
I would recommend archiving new threads as soon as they go up because I'm pretty sure titles aren't unique and can be used again.
Will have to wait and see if it is necessary.
This. Combination of this, random research when topics became relevant previously in my life, getting corrected at various points by friends in the medical field and a personal history full of hilarious injuries. And by 'hilarious' I mean 'eight people jumping you at once will make you feel in touch with what used to be your body'.
Glad to hear it's evidently going well, though.
Votes called. Writing shortly.
Can't hurt to ask.
Understood, my friend.
Lovecraftian horror relies on a lot of ideas that are no longer relevant to our modern culture. On top of that, I...kinda don't wanna touch it?
There's ancient things, down here in the dark, but they're not Elder Gods, just...elder. Forces of nature more than entities, whose actions have no malice because malice would imply an ability to care.
The thing with the lovecraftian is that in order for the horror to thrive, fhe audience has to hold a fertain amount of romanticism and passion in order to actually be horrified by the absolute apathy in which Being Greater Than Us peruse the cosmos, ignorant and uncaring at best of our actions and existence. The total opposite of the Judeo-Christian All-Loving God in that they do not hate us, we simply barely register to them on a level of sentience or importance. We are as ants are to us, ahich means on some level they might possess a bizarre, passing fondness for those they rip from their homes and put into locations that do not make sense to us for their amusement.
Bloodborne has done it best in that the Gods DO care, it's just that their love is so Other that it is usually horrifying to us.
This has been a tangent from an anon waiting for his customers to die, thank you.
You wave tiredly, with your cigarette between your fingers. You go to put on your brave face...and stop.
Today's your day off, isn't it?
"I need to go do a thing real quick. I won't leave the barn," you add. "But...if everyone's okay with it, can we push the cots together tonight? I. Had a rough conversation, and then I'm gonna have another one over night."
Amy looks at Nathan, and Nathan nods. "Of course. Good idea, by the way. Amy and I talked for awhile."
"Good. You need to talk more, Hero."
"Lay off Nate," Amy chides, jokingly. "He's cute when he doesn't know how to express himself."
"He's always cute," you correct, standing with a little smile on the corner of your lips. "I'll be right back."
"What're you doing anyway?" Nathan asks, puzzled; he lets Amy help him, probably because it makes her feel better more than anything.
"I owe Lora some smokes," you explain, slipping into Lark's work room. The elf looks up, sees your curious expression, and points quietly to a package on the table. You give him a hug - he stiffens in surprise - and grab the cigarettes and matches before heading back into the main room to get ready for bed.
Note to self: get long bath and wash all clothes after this shit. Everyone's gonna be fucking ripe by the time you're done.
Coats are shrugged off, and folks crawl into their cots, not quite snuggled but pleasantly close. Almost on unspoken signal, the three of you rest your hands together, touching lightly.
"Busy day tomorrow," you say with a sigh.
"Yeah," Amy agrees. "...Is it okay to ask what was bothering you?"
"Only if you're okay with not getting an answer."
"/Bri/," Nate chides.
> Change the subject
If you can't be honest with them, who can you be honest with?
That said, I really liked Bri's little blow-up over being a Hero. She was raised on fairy-tales, on Knights and Princesses, on Heroes.
And she's a Necromancer.
She does what's right and what's needed, but it isn't often very pretty. She made a choice to be the person that does what's Needful, just as much as she decided to do what's Right. She killed and buried a man, tears in her eyes as she ordered her shadow to slay him. She saved a group of miners in battle, and terrified the shit out of them in the process. More than a few of the man are probably scared of her, and want to run her out of town.
I bet after the Baron's dead, she's going to have another good cry/breakdown over the miners and men she lead to their deaths. Amy and Nate got involved before, but now she's having relative strangers die for her.
And for someone who aims to do what's Right, that's gotta hurt.
... On a different topic, I'm considering more stuff for Sierra.
Hey Vox, what're the boundaries on resurrection, and how does the La Croix family usually approach that? Bri brought Nathan back from the dead, along with a few other people, but what's the standard approach to problem of 'I have discovered someone dead in the last couple of minutes. Should I or should I not bring them back to life'?
The general rule the la Croix try to follow is "If I didn't see it die, don't try to bring it back to true life." There's tolerances - in theory you've got up to a minute to bring someone back - but slipping beyond them is terrible, awful idea. Best-case scenario you've made a ghost (a ghost that is fucking pissed at you); more often you end up with a half-mad zombie that is also pissed at you.
So the rule that the la Croix and honestly most necromancers with a sense of self-preservation follow is if you didn't see it die and start the count then and there, you don't raise it. If you can get to their side and preserve the corpse you can bump your time up long enough to complete the ritual, but once they drop you're on the clock and when that minute hand swings like a scythe you let the dead lay where they fell.
I also appreciate the feedback!
Yes, the dichotomy of being a Hero and being the one who, like Bri, does what's needful, reminds me very much of the very end of Buffy the Vampire Slayer's fifth season, where Giles does what's needful, but not heroic.
I always liked that part.
You sigh and squeeze Nathan's hand. "I'm sorry. It's. Hard to talk about without sounding like I'm being a stupid asshole."
"...Sometimes that's because you're actually being a little stupid," Amy suggests.
"Shush," Nate says softly. "Let Bri talk."
"..." you sigh. "Amy's parents were saying I was a Hero. And they didn't know when to back the fuck off on it. And don't even start, Ames, I don't even have to look to know you're opening your mouth to object." You turn your head. "I know the difference between what I do and a Hero. I try to do the right thing and I don't think I'm a bad person, necessarily, but there's shit I've done and will do that's not right. Needed? Sure. The right thing for the situation? Gods, I hope so. But right? I'm gonna order men to their deaths tomorrow. You wanna tell me that's right?"
Amy frowns, worriedly. "...It's not wrong," she says at last, feeling her way through it.
"That doesn't make it right," you tell her, shaking your head. "And for a girl that used to dream of riding her white horse to the defense of the weak, that's a difference it's hard to feel good about. And that just sounds pathetic now that I say it out loud."
Nate pinches your ear. "You quit that."
You wince and give him an irate look. "Fuck is that for?"
"You. Doing that thing where you hate yourself for no good reason. Honestly I'm starting to feel a bit insulted. The way you talk sometimes, Bri, it's like you think the two of us are morons for having an interest in you, or for liking you and being your friend."
You pause, mouth slightly open in surprise.
"Self-awareness," Nate chides. "Rare trait in a Hero, I'm told. I /do/ listen when you tell me things, Brianna. Maybe you should too."
"...I didn't mean it like that."
"I know you didn't. But if you're worried about zombie armies, maybe start off with appreciating yourself a little more."
Behind you, Amy makes a little chirping sound and snuggles into your back. You're pretty sure she's balancing on the edge of the cot and going to fall off the moment she falls asleep.
It's still nice.
"Go ahead and say it," Nathan murmurs. "I know you're dying to close the conversation out."
"What is it you think I'm gonna say?" you ask, a little amused.
Amy's head pops up behind you; you see her and Nate make eye contact, and the Hero flashes her a little grin. "Nevermind. G'night, Bri. Try to think about, y'know, stuff?"
"Later," you promise. "We've got people to kill tomorrow."
"Knew it," Nathan mutters smugly; you and Amy groan.
Eventually, you drift off to sleep, and find Lora waiting for you. She seems collected, though that lasts all of four seconds when she notices the package you have for her.
When you hand her the cigarettes, Lora lights up with a deep sigh of relief.
"Thank you," she breathes, smoke trailing from her breath. "That. Is. So much better."
The angel's dark eyes flick down to you. "Did you want to talk before you summon your ghost?"
> Sure (pick a topic)
> No, let's get this over with
>> No, let's get this over with
This is gonna be hard enough. Maybe if we don't talk too much beforehand, there'll be a little time afterward to either try to apologize to Lora, or have a calmer chat with her to ratchet down the stress levels.
You take out your pipe and pack it while you think, and you've reached your decision by the time you light the bowl. "No, let's get this over with. You need to do anything?"
"Yeah," Lora admits with a sigh. She stubs out her cigarette, stands, and straightens her robes. She draws her blade and sets it, tip-down, against the floor; her wings relax, forming a cloak behind her back. "How do I look?"
"...Did you seriously just ask me that?"
"Just /answer me/," the angel says, exasperated.
"Like an angel. Regal, welcoming. As death ought," you tell her.
"Good. Good. Summon your ghost, heritor."
"Aunt Carol," you say clearly, and the ghost forms at your side in an instant, her eyes on you. She looks and sees Lora, and you feel a faint twinge of satisfaction at the expression of fear and awe that grips the specter's face.
"I don't normally do audiences," Lora says imperiously. "Speak, ghost."
Aunt Carol straightens her back and clears her throat. "I need your help. I am imprisoned within my own corpse and thirst for release."
"Release to where?" Lora asks, arching an eyebrow.
> HOLD THE FUCK UP
> Remain silent
Wait, is this "I am tired of being an angry, restless spirit of revenge and want to go home to my sister?" Or is this "I am tired of existence and crave the ultimate act of self-destruction?"
Because if it's the latter, I say;
>HOLD THE FUCK UP.
Brianna would definitely not approve of that, especially considering they are family and how much Aunt Carol meant.
... This is a relevant point. I'm used to oblivion being used to describe death, but I'm not sure if in this case it refers to the veil beyond life, or just absolute non-existence.
... Aaand Vox spoke.
>HOLD THE FUCK UP.
Yeah, Aunt Carol maybe made some mistakes. She's had a miserable last couple of years too, and spent a long time stewing on the fact that she terrorized people for essentially no good reason.
But /fuck/. She's /family/. Our mom's sister, one of our teachers, and so much more. Let her pass on, sure. But just dropping her immortal soul into the blender is just...
I didn't know dead people had a brink to be pulled away from, but this is definitely a brink.
> HOLD THE FUCK UP
I'm about as pro-right-to-die as anyone you'll find, but I worry this is less "things aren't going to get better and I just want to hurry this up so it's less painful" and more "I don't want to face my sister after what I did." And to be honest, that logic is so bad (in a realistic way, don't get me wrong) it's worth checking to make sure Aunt Lora is thinking entirely straight.
I'm amazed people didn't realize right awsy when a skilled necromancer didn't use 'beyond the veil'.
I think that Bryn would make sure about her choice, but after that let her choose her own fate, regardless of how she feels about it.
It appears you have confused a couple names.
>Angel of Death: Lora
>Miserable specter asking for true oblivion: Auntie Carol
But yes, you are right. We should talk to her and learn what her motivations are. After all, if its because she doesn't want to face her sister or the spirits of those she killed/raised into undeath, she has all of eternity to earn their forgiveness.
It /is/ Aunt Carol's choice whether she wants to continue existing, but I think we should put everything on the table first before even considering giving her the okay.
We still aren't even sure if Lora will give it to her. She only agreed to hear her request, not grant it. So, Lora could always decide to force Carol to face the dead (literally) and her own guilt, rather than give her the (relatively) easy out.
I wonder if the classic "evil" Necromancer's suffer any particular punishment in the afterlife? If true, it would at least partially explain Aunt Carol not wanting to pass on. Though, considering how Brianna treated the necromancer recently, the true dead are /probably/ good at letting go of old grudges.
True, but the previous point remains. I would rather see Aunt Carol go through Purgatory and earn the forgiveness of those she wronged rather than see her utterly destroyed.
I know that life is for the living, and death is for the dead, but if the afterlife is anything like pic related, I can't fucking wait.
> name confusion
You know, I actually knew that. 100%, without a shadow of a doubt, if you'd asked me to say which was which I'd've given the right answer. My fingers, on the other hand, will apparently just write what-the-hell-ever, brain be damned. Teach me not to proofread, I guess.
"Hey!" you interject hotly. "That's not what you asked me about, Carol, you can't just -"
"I can do whatever I want, whelp," your Aunt snaps. "I wanted to be released from my prison. I never said how. This isn't your business."
"The fuck it's not," you snap. "Where the fuck do you get off? You did some bad shit but nothing that deserves -"
"Who said anything about /deserves/," Carol interrupts. "Do you think I want to face eternity alone? I forswore the family name. I'm not a la Croix any more. I gave up everything for my revenge and I didn't even get /that/. I have nothing."
The specter takes in a deep, shuddering breath. "This is between me and the angel. You stay out of it."
> This isn't what Mom would want
> Lora, back me up here
Is there any way for us to actually contact mom, or would that literally just make Lora go "Ugh, get a fucking room mortals."
>This isn't what Mom would want.
Because I still vehemently refuse to see Aunt Carol destroy herself. And as for the family name? We should let the ancestors decide that one.
Alright folks, I'm not gonna have time for another update before work. The vote and discussion will be left open until midnight EST or so, when I get home.
As always, discussion, questions, comments, and critique are welcome and appreciated.
Thank you all for reading and participating!
>>> Like hell you're not. You're /my/ family, whatever you think you've forsworn. Or do you think just any ghost could've answered my call?
Maybe we can't win everything. But we have to at least /try/.
>Like hell you're not. You're /my/ family, whatever you think you've forsworn. Or do you think just any ghost could've answered my call?
Just to make it more obvious which is going to win.
>"This is between me and the angel. You stay out of it."
>>Show her her hat. "I'm already in it."
Because even if she says the la Croix name isn't hers, it's proof at least Bri is still her family.
Christ, I just watched The Book of Life, and it is so relevant to what goes on in this quest it's not even funny.
I think, when I get back from work, I'm gonna doodle Brianna as La Muerte.
You might have for sworn the La Croix, but nobody ever said we had for sworn you. Do I have to call up Mom to talk you out of this shit?
Because I really don't want to. Every time she goes away it's like losing her again.
Not entirely sure what all she could say. She was bound by oaths to put her best effort forward against us, despite very clearly not wanting that at all.
More than likely these aren't just your standard 'I Promise' kind of oaths either, given the magic thrown around. It's entirely possible that she can't do anything against them, despite having lost her Chain and being bound in turn by Lora.
Speaking of which, what the hell is going on with all these Titles? I mean, sure. Some are basically just a nickname, but Silence /knew/ we were the Heritor. And we don't even have the best grasp on that kind of thing. Sure, you could argue that she's fae and they're weird like that. But every single one of the Chain Holders has a Title. Some more sensible than others.
... I find myself worried by the Pallbearer for some reason.
Setting that aside, the Master's plans are still very opaque to us. There's been the suggestion that he's trying to stop the end of the world by taking control of the one who's supposed to be reaping it, but I don't quite buy it.
There's also the oddity that he bee-lined to the Sanctum and set up shop there. All the other Chain Holders are road blocks, just there to buy him time. The dungeon can basically produce infinite resources. It's essentially a country underground that, thanks to Lora, is impossible to deplete of natural resources. So, he's not after material wealth, and probably isn't looking to play at being the ruler of the Dungeon either, given how each level was handed off to an underling.
So, whatever he's after, it has to be esoteric in nature.
Becoming a god seems a good guess, but it feels too simple and straightforward. Add to that, unless Lora's sitting on something else we don't know about down there, I doubt that's possible. So, my money's on that it's something made impossible by the gods, something that he wants nobody to have an inkling about. He's doing it in the deepest part of the land where no god's eyes may turn, where he has already bent the powers of an angel, probably a fairly powerful one at that, to do his bidding. He bypassed the god-slaying spear, so it's not that either.
Ah, we just need more data.
> not being more worried about the traitors army
I mean, judging by how they operate so far I'm expecting it to be pretty horrible. Bri was aight though so maybe she is justified? Wish she didn't have that magical geas against helping us.
> "Like hell you're not. You're /my/ family, whatever you think you've forsworn. Or do you think just any ghost could've answered my call? There's a reason I'm still wearing your hat, /Aunt/ Carol."
> Follow up with hatbapping, to drive the point home.
My god so many votes to count.
I need to get some food before I go into a literal coma. If someone would be kind enough to tally the votes I'd be unendingly grateful. If not, I'll tally them and hopefully get a new thread started here shortly.
Though we do still have a few posts left to kill this one.
Should be everything, at least MARKED votes.
>This isn't what Mom would want.
> Like hell you're not. You're /my/ family, whatever you think you've forsworn. Or do you think just any ghost could've answered my call?
VOTES TALLIED. WINNER:
> "Like hell you're not. You're /my/ family, whatever you think you've forsworn. Or do you think just any ghost could've answered my call?", followed by showing the hat/bapping her with it.
May be effectively the same as
>This isn't what Mom would want.
which was second place.
My vote count, which SHOULD have everything, for reference:
>This isn't what Mom would want.
>>44755507 (STRUCK FOR VOTE CHANGE)
>>44755509 Also, show her the hat and 'I'm already in it',.
> Like hell you're not. You're /my/ family, whatever you think you've forsworn. Or do you think just any ghost could've answered my call?
>>44756369 (Additional vote for "Show damn hat".)
>>44763383 (Add a hatbap.)
> You might have forsworn the La Croix, but nobody ever said we had forsworn you. Do I have to call up Mom to talk you out of this shit? Because I really don't want to. Every time she goes away it's like losing her again.
I have no idea how to categorize this so I'm just gonna stick it here:
Ahaha I don't expect him to do exactly that lone long vote. But I like to write it out how I imagine it. Maybe the author uses it verbatim, maybe they use it as inspiration, maybe they don't use it at all. But it's not like it costs anything to write out.
I just can't see anyone wanting to blame her for her failings in life after she's dead. Taking precautions against a necromancer yes, but there's no point punishing them just for the sake of punishment.
And everything about her just makes her sound so lonely after Briannas mother died, it hurts my heart and I feel that's probably why she wants oblivion. Better than loneliness, better than forcing her family to have to keep her bound and suffering.
Better to just be gone so they don't have the guilt any more, because forgiveness is totally out of the question right?