goddam i'm on fire, coulda used one of these on that weirding roll tho
(dice: 5, 4, 1, 1, 1)
escalating to Physical: 5, 5, 4, 5
women are not to be trusted = 5 TAKE THE BLOW: It's never the one you think it is--why's it you, you crazy woman, thinks Esau, right before the demon falls upon him, biting and beating. He keeps his arms between her and his face, between those clawing fingers and his eyes, but that don't stop her from ripping his skin open something fierce, big red weals going down his forearms and neck, bright red pushing forth from fresh wounds.
Little Faith, possessed of much evil and violence in her frail body, drives the comparatively-towering Esau back, back against the wall, as the mysterious wind wracks Pete's humble house. (dice: 5, 5, 1)
RAISE:
Grabbing her wrists, Esau spits right into the Faith-demon's face:
"They that dwell in the wilderness shall bow before Him; and His enemies shall lick the dust!" Oddly appropriate, but he ain't reflecting on that. He's exorcising. He turns his face up to heaven.
"Lord, drive the demons from Your child! Drive the legion at Your blow, scatter them in Your holy name!" (dice: 5, 5)
(dice: 4, 4, 1, 1)
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
edited November 2009
Well, that's easy - Faith doesn't have any applicable traits or items left (unless I call on the wind hurrrrrr), so I guess she has to Give!
GIVE:
Those cat eyes roll right back in Faith's head, her voice now an ear-splitting cacophany of those hundred-odd voices screaming in different pitch and tenor, her hair flapping wild and untamed in that otherworldly wind. The Tree of Life's branches have found their next push of strength, and they converge on that black heart of demonic power that's throbbing in Faith, covering it with a white light and yes she is a child of the Mountain yes she is embraced by His love for all the girls and boys and children on the earth yes Esau finds her skin hot to the touch yes His name is called she and her soul will be purged by the word of the King of Life yes her heart is beating so fast yes she says yes
The wind dies, everything goes collapsing to the ground; Faith lands with a thud. Her hair is lifeless and glossy black, spread unmoving across the hard wood floor of Pete's house. Her eyes are white and look up with an empty, inky blackness; then they close.
Faith's breathing is slow, but weak. The trauma of the fighting, the possession and the exorcism has sapped her of all her strength, and now her life is slowly ebbing away under the weight of living. But, the demon is gone.
Welp, Faith has to make some ugly Fallout choices!
Long-term #1: New 1d4 trait, "I've been possessed by a demon"
Long-term #2: Subtract 1d8 from her relationship with a demon
Experience: Create a relationship with Brother Esau at 1d6.
But! She rolled a 12! Uh oh! Can she See her Fallout total with three or less Body dice?
oh fudge, I don't get any fallout... i kinda wanted a demon asskicker trait or something! oh well, gotta save a couple lives now
Esau falls to his knees, ears ringing, adrenaline rushing. Praise be to the King of Life--the demon is driven out. Then reality intrudes, and he's kneeling there with two dying women.
He opens his mouth to yell again, Pete, Pete, get in here, but his chest is seized up, tight like a fist, and his throat is stuck closed and he has to shove the words out: "<Pete! Quick, I need your help!">
okay, but seriously, i'm without internet steadily until tomorrow afternoon. so if, before then, anyone needs to do anything with Prudence, assume she is weak and hurt and easy to move and do things with, once (if!) healed. she needs a little time because her head hurts again. she'll mutter and wave people off, and rest to herself wherever she can find decent privacy. she is a rag doll for your moves, gentlemen!
and now this:
She dreams. She dreams of shifting blackness, big black plates that rumble and grope each other like earthquakes, black screens that hide other black screens, and all she knows is that they are moving, not where or why. She is on her side, but propping her upper-half up with one arm, lazy relaxation by a fishing stream from her childhood, obscured by the inky landscape. She knows where she is but can't find it: these are apparitions, monsters, surrounding her - masses demanding her skin.
Sister Prudence of the Watchdogs turns her head and spits. The wet blob lingers in the air, inches from her face - and then suddenly she's looking at the stream melting into view, all those fish and those cat-tails, the lizards, the soft warm grass under the pine tree where she and Daddy carved their names into, the purest love she's ever known, what her father gave her, feeding her and taking care of her and teaching her. When them mountain folk came around in their odd garb and their strange tongues, it was Daddy what came out of the house screaming, Savages! Brown-skins! Git! and chased the passersby off with Ol' Trusty
-when he told her you can never trust a Mountain man no never they worship animals and devil gods and they will steal you away and do bad things like they do the Faithful women will touch you and hurt you-
and now that stream has beat off the black shades, the flat panels of ghosts, the wailing banshees surrounding her, and now she is safe. She is 17, she is now, and there is Daddy before he died, Ol' Trusty leaned up against the tree, his fishing rod in the water. He gives Prudence a big grin and ruffles her hair, and she laughs and curls into him, watching him coax the ripples of still water with his feet. They fish for hours, saying nothing, big leaden speech balloons over both their heads. Daddy catches a fish and reels it in, and it's a big' un!
Now they're back home and daddy's cooking it, but they're also still at the stream: nothing's changed but they're standing, and her mind has super-imposed one landscape onto a next so that water and grass jut at odd angles from the structure, that rickity old house, but can't be touched. They say their prayers. Prudence wears her best dress, her only nice dress. They eat, and even as they eat, Daddy's trying to piece her coat together. But Daddy, she said without speaking, you ain't made my coat, it was them other family had made it. But this version was much better: this coat shimmered, it was long and flowing, and it protected her from all harm.
"I love you, baby girl. Can't say I'm much too happy 'bout you runnin' to go play sherriff like this. But I'm damn proud, Prudence." Tears are hugging his eyes, refusing to budge. "I am damn proud of you."
And just like that, they're hugging again, by that old pine tree, their names etched above them. They both cry, Daddy misses her because she's off where he can't protect her, and Prudence misses him because he died alone, in the shack, without anyone to say good-bye to him, and God dammit, that's no way for a good man like him to pass. Oh lordy, he's going to think I don't care, that I don't love him - she looks up into his face and tries to say it, tries to tell him she does, that she misses him, that she was away, but she can't speak. Daddy just cries, soft little spattering tears, and he runs his fingers through her hair... and pulls them back to reveal blood, big sticky strands of blood, glue-like and stringy, looping from his fingers to her hair... and he yells, Prudence! Baby girl! Oh God, no! and Prudence knows that's why he's unhappy, and he's afraid she'll die - and so is she - but she can't speak to tell him it'll all be okay, but oh Lord he needs to hear it, please, he needs to hear it, someone tell him before: no. He's gone. Dead, sick.
Prudence falls back to the floor, same position she is in now, awake, and bleeds and bleeds, screaming, feeling her scalp being tortured, being ripped off and torn apart, screaming and begging, calling for Daddy, pleading and crying and screaming for the inky blackness, now returning, those dark ghostly shades, those plates, now returning, she's screaming for them to stay back, no, don't do this, don't kill me, they're coming, don't kill me don't kill me, Daddy, Daddy! help... don't kill me, please, to this haunting black nothing, don't kill me, don't kill me...
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
edited November 2009
Actually, Jim, you took three dice to See Faith's direct attack on you - that'll be 3d8 Fallout, which you should roll now, before we move onto the healing conflicts.
Pete, he's been curled up in his bedroom, terrfied at what's going on outside. He snuck a peek, before, he saw what Faith looked like - a demon, possessed because she's a sinner. He looks at his own hands, thinks, Am I safe from this curse? Am I going to be the next one to go?
Then he hears Esau and freezes in thought for a moment, until he realises that the wind is going; just the muted white noise of that heavy rain falling down onto Memphisto. He bites his lip and, though he may regret it, rises to his feet to go help out his Mountain Dog friend.
When he enters the room, he sees those two bodies, sees Esau's bleeding face.
Says, "<I'm here,>" and that's all he needs to.
Pete will only be givin' you a +1 to Acuity, since Acuity is his weakest stat.
shoot butts, I guess that means I have to roll my Body dice don't I? body 4d6 gives me a 6, 5, and 2 to see it with in three dice, so I guess those scratches ain't too bad
long-term fallout: new trait - I stood alone against a demon 1d4
"<Good. Gonna need some bandages or rags, some water.>" Prudence is coughing out quiet words, thick with fear, but unintelligible, the words of the dying. Faith's just layin' there, not a peep. <"Sister Watchdog's hurt real bad, and she ain'in in no shape to be gettin' knocked around like that.>
"<Sister Faith'll have to wait.>"
(dice: 6, 6, 5, 5, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 1) RAISE:
He kneels by Prudence, puts a hand on her clammy forehead. She's probably gonna need to be sewn shut--a cut like that don't just knit up in a day. <Papa please don't hit me I'm sorry, and now he's at the spring, splashing icecold water into that stinging cut>
He moves to the other room for blankets, and then he comes and rolls Prudence out flat before he throws a blanket over her and Faith each. Back on his knees, by her side: "Sister. Sister, wake up, now, come on." (dice: 6, 5)
(dice: 6, 5, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 1)
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
edited November 2009
Slow down there, Petey! You gotta take TWO long-term fallout, since you rolled a 12!
Choose another one, and I'll get this conflict a-goin'. 9d10 of opposing dice, comin' straight for you.
SEE:
The blanket covers up that weak and bloodied Prudence alright, but it’s only a simple blanket, cold from the shivering unholy wind that had been shaking and rattling the bones of the Watchdogs only moments earlier. What little good might have done isn’t noticeable, not by either Esau or Prudence. His voice, too, goes unheard – or unnoticed – by the bleeding Sister Watchdog. (dice: 8,3)
RAISE:
Deep down inside Prudence, though, the demons have started to make their comeback. That frail little Faith had done her task so well, it was almost perfect; she’d just been unable to make that finishing blow. But they were satisfied enough, and now? They were coming to finish the job that they started back on that dusty hillside.
Their cold machinations wrap around Prudence’s heart and squeeze, causing her head-wound to suddenly burst with a vicious torrent of blood. (dice: 10,6)
Mountain Man = 4, 2 TAKE THE BLOW:
Prudence's blood sprays across Esau's face, mixing with his own dripping from the claw marks Faith gave him. He bites his tongue. Just... it's just like cleaning a deer. When you mess it up. Ain't nothing to it, just blood. Just cleaning a deer, out in the Mountains.
He fumbles for a cloth to staunch the flow, but his hands are slow to respond; he drops it. (dice: 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 1)
temp trait: Pete Stars 1d6 = 6 RAISE:
"<Pete, hold this down.>" At Esau's command, Pete presses the cloth against Prudence's head--it starts to soak through with blood almost immediately, but it's better than nothing. Esau sets to preparing a makeshift bandage to hold the wound shut, all the while talking, praying, "Lord, preserve your Dog, watch over her in this dark time, deliver her from evil, wake up Prudence." (dice: 6, 5)
(dice: 6, 4, 2) (fallout: 6d4)
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
edited November 2009
come on you dirty fucker
you can pull this off
(dice: 10,8,4,4,3)
SEE:
The rag soaks up some blood, but that soaking through doesn't help stabilise the wound at all - the head blood's just seeping out around the edges, pouring down and baptising Prudence with her own life force. The wound ain't going to be stopped with some kind words and a little rag, not if the demons have anything to do with it. Their black intentions are coming to fruition, alright, but it just needs a little push... (dice: 8,3)
RAISE:
Black tendrils flood Prudence's mind, overwhelming her with pain and visions of that world beyond this one, that eternal life-in-death in which the sinners will go; there is fire and brimstone and the eyes of the damned weep with blood, wandering the desolate infernal fires blindly, never to touch or think or do anything but regret their life and curse the day they were born.
Prudence starts to scream as her body spasms and begins to succumb to the hurt. (dice: 10,4)
i can't, unless you let me weasel up another die from somewhere. can I roll like 1d6 for the bandages and shit?
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
edited November 2009
Alright you got two options here, either you can write an insanely good post and roll another trait, or you can roll 1d4 to use something that isn't a bandage as a bandage.
everytime i get on, you are not there. but that is probably because i get on at like, noon my time, and that's what, two something in the morning for you?
jim get an invite to wave somehow magically. you're missing out on not much happening yet!
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
little busy right now, but i officially declare my intention to save Prudence by rollin a dee-fore
I have a 1 in 4 chance of dooming Prudence with this action
bandaid (1d4=4) heyyy there we go invisiblecastle!! high five!!!!!
TAKE THE BLOW (teetotaller, makeshift bandage)
Those screams, they're worse than the chorus of demons that were just singin' their evil song. They cut to his heart, the sound of suffering, as Prudence sobs and hollers and coughs daddy, daddy. What kind of man is he, standing strong against a demon but freezing here as a fellow Dog needs his aid? Maybe if Pete had a bottle of somethin' around, somethin' hard, it would be better. Splash it on the wound, get a little into her to dull the pain and slow the blood. But the King of Life don't smile on alcohol, and neither does Esau. A Faithful man oughtn't have it around anyway.
He's been lost in thought, drifting. It's only Pete's actions that keep the cloth against her wound as Esau falters; Prudence is still crying out and kicking, but the actions are weak, faltering, fading. (dice: 6, 4, 4)
RAISE (women are not to be trusted):
Damn these ladies. Faith gone crazy, consorting with demons (was it a possession? or sorcery?) And Prudence getting herself in above her head, tussling with half the people in town, and look where it got her. Whole lotta trouble, and now he's gotta bail her out again.
A few minutes of assiduous work and a little creativity, and there's a makeshift bandage (really a strip of shirt) finally wrapped round Prudence's head, holding a big wad of cloth against the wound. She's covered in tears and snot; she ain't talking no more; but the flow of blood is staunched. Pete and Esau get her propped up a little and make sure the blanket is around her warm. (dice: 3, 2)
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
edited November 2009
GIVE:
For whatever reason, the screaming stops, and so too the bleeding from her head wound; whether she has run out of blood, out of any kind of energy, that remains unknown for the moment. But there is hope, there, a soft glow returning to Prudence's features, signaling that something, somewhere, has gone right. Propped up and warm, whatever forces were assailling her have slunk back, away and into the dark from whence they came.
Once again, Prudence has been saved from the brink of death; but the price of victory is costly, and Esau? Didn't seem like his actions did much to save the girl at all.
Meanwhile, Faith's fading out nearby, and it'll only be a matter of time before she, too, is under pain of death.
Alright, well, I think it is safe to say that Esau took a hell of a beating in that fight, what with not being able to See once.
oh do you mean the montesgur rules
i read through those, yeah, i am digging the game
i hope i get to play the pregnant chick
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
edited November 2009
Well, if you're in, we just need two more people to join on up, and I'll make everything in ye olde Wave. I think it'll work a lot better there than on a forum, since it's going to run more like a screenplay than a forum one-after-the-other narrative - especially when the whole "IMMEDIATE INTERRUPT" thing comes into play.
i wanna play the harlot, but that is just me and my extended wish fulfillment talkin'
I am thinking about maybe running carry: a game about war on the forums as a PbP, what do you think (this would be easier to do if you were ever on wave, cough cough)
it is crunch time at work, what with black friday coming up and then christmas. so my schedule is even choppier, now! but i'll be good for it come game time. just need a few days to get back into a good sleepin' groove (hence why you haven't seen me much lately)
"...me too, Sister." He turns his eyes up from Faith, and they're so tired and heavy, hung with worry and rimmed with red. "Me too. But we gotta job to do."
Just keep on plodding onward. Bend your back from dawn to dusk, and then the next day again, and again, and again. That's the way you get on in the world.
Opening dice: 2d6 Faith's body + 3d6 Esau's Acuity + 1d6 relationship with Pete Stars + 2d6 raised a Mountain man= 8d6 : (6, 6, 3, 3, 3, 2, 2, 1)
(dice: 6, 6, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 2, 1) RAISE:
No matter how grave it looks.
Esau bends over Faith, puts a hand on her chill brow. That demon had wounded her something fierce, when it had been driven out kicking and screaming; maybe the wound weren't visible, but that didn't make it any better.
"<Sister, it's over,>" he says, in the tongue they share. "<The demon is gone, it is fled into the Darkness, as went our ancestors. Awake.>" (dice: 6, 6)
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
TAKING THE BLOW:
That sound, the language of the Mountain People, it comes to Faith through the dark endless excess; once lost in that ocean of black, she hears a voice calling to her, guiding her out of that place. She knows that tongue far better than any other, the only language she can understand; English means nothing to her, not even when it comes from the man claiming to her husband.
Faith opens her eyes and looks at Esau, feels the warmth of his touch and sees the blood smeared across his face. Accidentally, like a martyr, Esau had come to this town, and here he was, helping them all.
She knew he'd save her from this. (dice: 4,3,3,2)
RAISE:
But demons that dwell deep in the heart of men, they do not care for such mortal fancies; not when a soul that they have tainted and claimed is on the line. They may be gone from her body, but they did not leave without a good fight. The scouring branches of the Tree of Life have dug deep into her flesh and bone, and though they cleared her soul, they did not heal the wounds they made.
Blood, red and thick, starts coming out from the side of Faith's little smile.
Then she starts coughing, choking on that iron-tasting liquid that's flooding up her lungs and making her breathing funny, incapable of continuing for much longer. (dice: 6,5)
lookin a little bumpy, faith, but i've got some dice left in me
(dice: 5, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 2, 1, 1)
TAKE THE BLOW:
That hacking, wet cough seemed out of place from such a little frame as Faith's. It was the sick-cough of a smoker, lungs filled with the demonic influence of tobacco, dripping with phlegm and blood and sin. Well, Esau knows how to deal with that--he gets Pete under one of her arms, and himself under the other, and they drag Faith up, propping whatever soft oddities they can gather under her shoulders, to get her up and let the body do its work in expelling filth.
But the coughing continues, little drops of blood spattering down Faith's front. The root of her wound is deeper than that of the vice of tobacco. The scars of a holy struggle have been imprinted deep inside her. (dice: 3, 3, 3, 2)
RAISE:
There isn't much he can do but hold a cloth to her mouth and wait for the coughing to stop, even if just for a bit. Her lungs'll get all the blood out eventually, and it's up to the Lord to decide if they'll fill back up. Esau begins to mouth a prayer, but his eye lands on Prudence. Beaten half to death and her head opened up wide, maybe not even conscious right now (she had spoken to him, but had she been aware of it?), suffering the sins of these townspeople.
The Lord would forgive them all, in His time, if they repented and fought against His foes at the End of Days. But would Faith repent? Or is she one of those who would fight against him?
"<Faith.>" His tone is deadly serious--but then again, so are the circumstances. "<This is real important, Sister, so you have to tell me the truth. All I need is a shake or a nod: did you allow the demons into you?>" (dice: 5, 4)
(dice: 2, 1, 1) (fallout: 4d4)
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
edited November 2009
(dice: 8,6,4,3,2,1)
TAKING THE BLOW:
The coughing, hacking and biting at the ears of those around, stops for a brief moment. Faith breathes for just a moment, in and out, tears starting to come from her eyes from the painful struggle. She pushes that blood-soaked cloth away from her mouth and looks up at Esau, right in his eyes so he can see the hopeless sincerity left in them.
"<No,>" she says. (dice: 4,3,2)
RAISE:
The coughing starts again for a brief moment, Faith doubling over as her muscles spasm and contract. She falls back as far as she can go, and the coughing stops again. Her head droops down, slack and without energy left. But there's no relief there, no movement that comes from the Mountain Woman but the blood dripping from her mouth, down and onto the floor.
Her body's gone limp, and she isn't breathing anymore. (dice: 8,6)
doggies I am going home for thanksgiving where there ain't no internet to speak of, so see you saturday night or so! I don't know what you do there in Oz, so have fun shooting kangaroos or whatever
christ okay maybe I can do this, i just need two more dice
narration forthcoming but here's my dice anyway
TAKE THE BLOW:
Esau sets to work trying to revive Faith--he compresses her chest, begs a quick prayer, and then presses his mouth to hers and tries to breathe life back into her. It's to no avail. Her skin is growing clammy, ashen. She's not breathing... but her heart is still going, for however much longer, faint and laboring.
"<Pete! Come here... I need you to--yes, hands there--and now you push, every three seconds or so, try to make her breathe.>" He dashes to his saddlebags, where they lay at the door (and a fine thing it was that he'd brought them in, before the storm) and paws through his things. A spoon, and knife, a tin cup. The Book of Life--he knows the words, this is not what he needs right now. But here it is: that little jar, wrapped gently in a cloth, filled with the holy consecrated earth. He uncaps it with shaking hand and returns to Faith's side.
"<Faith, if you can hear me... well, whatever happens, it'll be all right in the end.>" He moistens his finger and dips it into the jar, and with it draws the sign of the Tree of Life on Faith's waxy forehead.
He intones a prayer for her soul. Faith is dying, and he knows it. He will try to make what remains of her life as good as possible, to give her hope in the life Eternal. He will pray to the King for her. (dice: 6, 4, 2, 1, 1)
RAISE:
But his mouth locks up, his throat closes. He can barely stammer the words that he should know by heart, the words he knows he knows by heart. To Pete, he must be a sight. Where there had been been only yesterday a man of stature, who had cowed him into faith in the Lord's love, there was just a little boy, kneeling at a dying woman's side. Pete couldn't know that Esau's mother had died like this, or that Esau had knelt like this at her bedside night after night, but he could see that there was no power left in him.
Esau reaches for that Book of Life from his bag, which he had not thought he needed just moments before. It's a heavy book, and its weight comforts him. A symbol of divinity, here in his hands. With a thick voice, he reads the first passage of the last rites of a dying Faithful.
He interrupts himself with an aborted sniffle. "Lord," he begs, small and insignificant. "Please. Don't let your child die. It ain't her time. It weren't her fault. "
He turns his face and his palms up to heaven, a gesture of prostration. "Please, Lord, let Faith live." (dice: 3, 1)
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simonwolfi can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered Userregular
edited December 2009
GIVE:
Faith, she's been coming down this path a long time. Sinking into the darkness, does she see a light in that infinite void? Does it burn red and orange with the false promises of demons, or is it white and blinding, tearing away this mortal coil and leaving nothing but your soul for His glory? Faith, she doesn't care, she's just slowly dipping way down and down, and down and down, and down and deeper into a place that's thick like molasses, slowly creeping up all around her, thinking that it'll drown her...
Well, what is this?
The light's fading out, something's pushing her back up into the heavy and moist air of the world below Him, the world he made and created inequal. She thinks, begs, asks, why is this happening, isn't it my time? Isn't my soul, my body too damaged to be left upon this earth?
Whispering voices from the world, telling her all she needs to know - it isn't her time. It isn't her fault.
She's going to live.
Eyes flickering, she breathes once more. It's heavy and laboured, swelling into her empty lungs with a struggle each time. But it's breathing enough, and Esau? Well, some might say his prayers have just been answered.
Alright! Conflicts over! Esau, you've got some Fallout to roll.
Otherwise, let's get this back on track! The Dogs have got a town to save, and the Elders are saying it'll be all wrapped up by Christmas.
if it's all right with you simon, I'll go with losing my 1d4 trait 'imposing demeanor' and gaining a 1d6 trait 'lifesaver'
Esau stares as Faith works to breathe. A woman, on the brink of death just seconds ago, returned to life by the virtue of prayer and her own innocence.
God is good, he thinks. Praise be.
Wiping a tear from his eye: "<Pete, uh, wait til she's done coughing, then get her, uh, sat up again...>" He pauses for a moment, unsure, and then smiles slightly. Signalling his thanks to Pete for helping him endure these trials, for undergoing them himself.
He goes over to Prudence. "Sister, how you doing?"
"Quite a show," she says groggily. "You're a blessin' to the Faith, Brother."
She's been falling alseep for seconds at a time, reviving - but she caught all the best parts - and her head is once again pounding. But moreso out of fear, she refuses, she won't, she won't go back to how yesterday was. All that pain, that vulnerability.
Hah, and for sure, she ain't going to sleep anytime soon.
"Oh lord, Esau. What do we do?" Her voice drifts as she asks. She wants to leave this town and never come back. Surely nowhere else can be as sinful as Memphisto.
"I dunno, Sister." Wrangle up the townsfolk? Tell em we've got incontrovertible proof of sorcery in this town, decry those who would deny it, allow those guilty to confess their sins? And then, if against all odds someone stepped forth and said it was I... then what? After all the trouble he'd gone to to preserve the lives of the townsfolk, after such a religious experience, could he still let Prudence shoot someone down for sorcery? The image of a body laying in the fresh mud blood a-pooling beneath flickers through his mind, and he shudders a little. Have to cross that bridge when we come to it.
Esau fights the urge to slump down next to Prudence--he ought to help Pete with Faith, since Prudence seems all right for now. The desire for camaraderie and commiseration must wait, though. He pats her on the shoulder and goes back to Pete's side.
Posts
women are not to be trusted = 5
goddam i'm on fire, coulda used one of these on that weirding roll tho
(dice: 5, 4, 1, 1, 1)
escalating to Physical: 5, 5, 4, 5
women are not to be trusted = 5
TAKE THE BLOW:
It's never the one you think it is--why's it you, you crazy woman, thinks Esau, right before the demon falls upon him, biting and beating. He keeps his arms between her and his face, between those clawing fingers and his eyes, but that don't stop her from ripping his skin open something fierce, big red weals going down his forearms and neck, bright red pushing forth from fresh wounds.
Little Faith, possessed of much evil and violence in her frail body, drives the comparatively-towering Esau back, back against the wall, as the mysterious wind wracks Pete's humble house.
(dice: 5, 5, 1)
RAISE:
Grabbing her wrists, Esau spits right into the Faith-demon's face:
"They that dwell in the wilderness shall bow before Him; and His enemies shall lick the dust!" Oddly appropriate, but he ain't reflecting on that. He's exorcising. He turns his face up to heaven.
"Lord, drive the demons from Your child! Drive the legion at Your blow, scatter them in Your holy name!"
(dice: 5, 5)
(dice: 4, 4, 1, 1)
GIVE:
Those cat eyes roll right back in Faith's head, her voice now an ear-splitting cacophany of those hundred-odd voices screaming in different pitch and tenor, her hair flapping wild and untamed in that otherworldly wind. The Tree of Life's branches have found their next push of strength, and they converge on that black heart of demonic power that's throbbing in Faith, covering it with a white light and yes she is a child of the Mountain yes she is embraced by His love for all the girls and boys and children on the earth yes Esau finds her skin hot to the touch yes His name is called she and her soul will be purged by the word of the King of Life yes her heart is beating so fast yes she says yes
The wind dies, everything goes collapsing to the ground; Faith lands with a thud. Her hair is lifeless and glossy black, spread unmoving across the hard wood floor of Pete's house. Her eyes are white and look up with an empty, inky blackness; then they close.
Faith's breathing is slow, but weak. The trauma of the fighting, the possession and the exorcism has sapped her of all her strength, and now her life is slowly ebbing away under the weight of living. But, the demon is gone.
It is done.
Welp, Faith has to make some ugly Fallout choices!
Long-term #1: New 1d4 trait, "I've been possessed by a demon"
Long-term #2: Subtract 1d8 from her relationship with a demon
Experience: Create a relationship with Brother Esau at 1d6.
But! She rolled a 12! Uh oh! Can she See her Fallout total with three or less Body dice?
Body test! (2d6=11)
NOPE!
That means Faith, like Prudence, is in need of urgent medical attention! Esau, it's all on you!
oh fudge, I don't get any fallout... i kinda wanted a demon asskicker trait or something! oh well, gotta save a couple lives now
Esau falls to his knees, ears ringing, adrenaline rushing. Praise be to the King of Life--the demon is driven out. Then reality intrudes, and he's kneeling there with two dying women.
He opens his mouth to yell again, Pete, Pete, get in here, but his chest is seized up, tight like a fist, and his throat is stuck closed and he has to shove the words out: "<Pete! Quick, I need your help!">
esau can only save one of us in time
and also sister faith is his one true love
okay, but seriously, i'm without internet steadily until tomorrow afternoon. so if, before then, anyone needs to do anything with Prudence, assume she is weak and hurt and easy to move and do things with, once (if!) healed. she needs a little time because her head hurts again. she'll mutter and wave people off, and rest to herself wherever she can find decent privacy. she is a rag doll for your moves, gentlemen!
and now this:
She dreams. She dreams of shifting blackness, big black plates that rumble and grope each other like earthquakes, black screens that hide other black screens, and all she knows is that they are moving, not where or why. She is on her side, but propping her upper-half up with one arm, lazy relaxation by a fishing stream from her childhood, obscured by the inky landscape. She knows where she is but can't find it: these are apparitions, monsters, surrounding her - masses demanding her skin.
Sister Prudence of the Watchdogs turns her head and spits. The wet blob lingers in the air, inches from her face - and then suddenly she's looking at the stream melting into view, all those fish and those cat-tails, the lizards, the soft warm grass under the pine tree where she and Daddy carved their names into, the purest love she's ever known, what her father gave her, feeding her and taking care of her and teaching her. When them mountain folk came around in their odd garb and their strange tongues, it was Daddy what came out of the house screaming, Savages! Brown-skins! Git! and chased the passersby off with Ol' Trusty
-when he told her you can never trust a Mountain man no never they worship animals and devil gods and they will steal you away and do bad things like they do the Faithful women will touch you and hurt you-
and now that stream has beat off the black shades, the flat panels of ghosts, the wailing banshees surrounding her, and now she is safe. She is 17, she is now, and there is Daddy before he died, Ol' Trusty leaned up against the tree, his fishing rod in the water. He gives Prudence a big grin and ruffles her hair, and she laughs and curls into him, watching him coax the ripples of still water with his feet. They fish for hours, saying nothing, big leaden speech balloons over both their heads. Daddy catches a fish and reels it in, and it's a big' un!
Now they're back home and daddy's cooking it, but they're also still at the stream: nothing's changed but they're standing, and her mind has super-imposed one landscape onto a next so that water and grass jut at odd angles from the structure, that rickity old house, but can't be touched. They say their prayers. Prudence wears her best dress, her only nice dress. They eat, and even as they eat, Daddy's trying to piece her coat together. But Daddy, she said without speaking, you ain't made my coat, it was them other family had made it. But this version was much better: this coat shimmered, it was long and flowing, and it protected her from all harm.
"I love you, baby girl. Can't say I'm much too happy 'bout you runnin' to go play sherriff like this. But I'm damn proud, Prudence." Tears are hugging his eyes, refusing to budge. "I am damn proud of you."
And just like that, they're hugging again, by that old pine tree, their names etched above them. They both cry, Daddy misses her because she's off where he can't protect her, and Prudence misses him because he died alone, in the shack, without anyone to say good-bye to him, and God dammit, that's no way for a good man like him to pass. Oh lordy, he's going to think I don't care, that I don't love him - she looks up into his face and tries to say it, tries to tell him she does, that she misses him, that she was away, but she can't speak. Daddy just cries, soft little spattering tears, and he runs his fingers through her hair... and pulls them back to reveal blood, big sticky strands of blood, glue-like and stringy, looping from his fingers to her hair... and he yells, Prudence! Baby girl! Oh God, no! and Prudence knows that's why he's unhappy, and he's afraid she'll die - and so is she - but she can't speak to tell him it'll all be okay, but oh Lord he needs to hear it, please, he needs to hear it, someone tell him before: no. He's gone. Dead, sick.
Prudence falls back to the floor, same position she is in now, awake, and bleeds and bleeds, screaming, feeling her scalp being tortured, being ripped off and torn apart, screaming and begging, calling for Daddy, pleading and crying and screaming for the inky blackness, now returning, those dark ghostly shades, those plates, now returning, she's screaming for them to stay back, no, don't do this, don't kill me, they're coming, don't kill me don't kill me, Daddy, Daddy! help... don't kill me, please, to this haunting black nothing, don't kill me, don't kill me...
Pete, he's been curled up in his bedroom, terrfied at what's going on outside. He snuck a peek, before, he saw what Faith looked like - a demon, possessed because she's a sinner. He looks at his own hands, thinks, Am I safe from this curse? Am I going to be the next one to go?
Then he hears Esau and freezes in thought for a moment, until he realises that the wind is going; just the muted white noise of that heavy rain falling down onto Memphisto. He bites his lip and, though he may regret it, rises to his feet to go help out his Mountain Dog friend.
When he enters the room, he sees those two bodies, sees Esau's bleeding face.
Says, "<I'm here,>" and that's all he needs to.
shoot butts, I guess that means I have to roll my Body dice don't I? body 4d6 gives me a 6, 5, and 2 to see it with in three dice, so I guess those scratches ain't too bad
long-term fallout: new trait - I stood alone against a demon 1d4
I'm comin', Pru!
my acuity + Pete's, Prudence's body, my relationships with Prudence and Pete, and daddy roughed me up: 1, 3, 6, 6, 5, 1, 5, 2, 3, 3, 4
"<Good. Gonna need some bandages or rags, some water.>" Prudence is coughing out quiet words, thick with fear, but unintelligible, the words of the dying. Faith's just layin' there, not a peep. <"Sister Watchdog's hurt real bad, and she ain'in in no shape to be gettin' knocked around like that.>
"<Sister Faith'll have to wait.>"
(dice: 6, 6, 5, 5, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 1)
RAISE:
He kneels by Prudence, puts a hand on her clammy forehead. She's probably gonna need to be sewn shut--a cut like that don't just knit up in a day. <Papa please don't hit me I'm sorry, and now he's at the spring, splashing icecold water into that stinging cut>
He moves to the other room for blankets, and then he comes and rolls Prudence out flat before he throws a blanket over her and Faith each. Back on his knees, by her side: "Sister. Sister, wake up, now, come on."
(dice: 6, 5)
(dice: 6, 5, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 1)
Choose another one, and I'll get this conflict a-goin'. 9d10 of opposing dice, comin' straight for you.
1d4 relationship with Faith
also goodness but that is a lot of dice
Post incomin' shortly, once I do some actual office work
you beat me down and then we'll talk about losing traits and stats, otherwise i'm just gonna flip you the bird and peel out on my motorcycle
in retrospect, I don't think you can peel out on a motorcycle?
(dice: 10,10,8,8,6,4,4,3,3)
SEE:
The blanket covers up that weak and bloodied Prudence alright, but it’s only a simple blanket, cold from the shivering unholy wind that had been shaking and rattling the bones of the Watchdogs only moments earlier. What little good might have done isn’t noticeable, not by either Esau or Prudence. His voice, too, goes unheard – or unnoticed – by the bleeding Sister Watchdog.
(dice: 8,3)
RAISE:
Deep down inside Prudence, though, the demons have started to make their comeback. That frail little Faith had done her task so well, it was almost perfect; she’d just been unable to make that finishing blow. But they were satisfied enough, and now? They were coming to finish the job that they started back on that dusty hillside.
Their cold machinations wrap around Prudence’s heart and squeeze, causing her head-wound to suddenly burst with a vicious torrent of blood.
(dice: 10,6)
no
bad
(dice: 6, 6, 5, 4, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 2, 1)
Mountain Man = 4, 2
TAKE THE BLOW:
Prudence's blood sprays across Esau's face, mixing with his own dripping from the claw marks Faith gave him. He bites his tongue. Just... it's just like cleaning a deer. When you mess it up. Ain't nothing to it, just blood. Just cleaning a deer, out in the Mountains.
He fumbles for a cloth to staunch the flow, but his hands are slow to respond; he drops it.
(dice: 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 1)
temp trait: Pete Stars 1d6 = 6
RAISE:
"<Pete, hold this down.>" At Esau's command, Pete presses the cloth against Prudence's head--it starts to soak through with blood almost immediately, but it's better than nothing. Esau sets to preparing a makeshift bandage to hold the wound shut, all the while talking, praying, "Lord, preserve your Dog, watch over her in this dark time, deliver her from evil, wake up Prudence."
(dice: 6, 5)
(dice: 6, 4, 2) (fallout: 6d4)
you can pull this off
(dice: 10,8,4,4,3)
SEE:
The rag soaks up some blood, but that soaking through doesn't help stabilise the wound at all - the head blood's just seeping out around the edges, pouring down and baptising Prudence with her own life force. The wound ain't going to be stopped with some kind words and a little rag, not if the demons have anything to do with it. Their black intentions are coming to fruition, alright, but it just needs a little push...
(dice: 8,3)
RAISE:
Black tendrils flood Prudence's mind, overwhelming her with pain and visions of that world beyond this one, that eternal life-in-death in which the sinners will go; there is fire and brimstone and the eyes of the damned weep with blood, wandering the desolate infernal fires blindly, never to touch or think or do anything but regret their life and curse the day they were born.
Prudence starts to scream as her body spasms and begins to succumb to the hurt.
(dice: 10,4)
women are not to be trusted = 2
i can't, unless you let me weasel up another die from somewhere. can I roll like 1d6 for the bandages and shit?
pick yer poison
also are you going to be on Wave later, I left you a present there
jim get an invite to wave somehow magically. you're missing out on not much happening yet!
come on you whore, daddy needs his keithicine
little busy right now, but i officially declare my intention to save Prudence by rollin a dee-fore
I have a 1 in 4 chance of dooming Prudence with this action
bandaid (1d4=4) heyyy there we go invisiblecastle!! high five!!!!!
TAKE THE BLOW (teetotaller, makeshift bandage)
Those screams, they're worse than the chorus of demons that were just singin' their evil song. They cut to his heart, the sound of suffering, as Prudence sobs and hollers and coughs daddy, daddy. What kind of man is he, standing strong against a demon but freezing here as a fellow Dog needs his aid? Maybe if Pete had a bottle of somethin' around, somethin' hard, it would be better. Splash it on the wound, get a little into her to dull the pain and slow the blood. But the King of Life don't smile on alcohol, and neither does Esau. A Faithful man oughtn't have it around anyway.
He's been lost in thought, drifting. It's only Pete's actions that keep the cloth against her wound as Esau falters; Prudence is still crying out and kicking, but the actions are weak, faltering, fading.
(dice: 6, 4, 4)
RAISE (women are not to be trusted):
Damn these ladies. Faith gone crazy, consorting with demons (was it a possession? or sorcery?) And Prudence getting herself in above her head, tussling with half the people in town, and look where it got her. Whole lotta trouble, and now he's gotta bail her out again.
A few minutes of assiduous work and a little creativity, and there's a makeshift bandage (really a strip of shirt) finally wrapped round Prudence's head, holding a big wad of cloth against the wound. She's covered in tears and snot; she ain't talking no more; but the flow of blood is staunched. Pete and Esau get her propped up a little and make sure the blanket is around her warm.
(dice: 3, 2)
For whatever reason, the screaming stops, and so too the bleeding from her head wound; whether she has run out of blood, out of any kind of energy, that remains unknown for the moment. But there is hope, there, a soft glow returning to Prudence's features, signaling that something, somewhere, has gone right. Propped up and warm, whatever forces were assailling her have slunk back, away and into the dark from whence they came.
Once again, Prudence has been saved from the brink of death; but the price of victory is costly, and Esau? Didn't seem like his actions did much to save the girl at all.
Meanwhile, Faith's fading out nearby, and it'll only be a matter of time before she, too, is under pain of death.
Roll that fallout, bucko!
ffallout (9d4=22) 8 + 1
experience: +1d to relationship with Prudence
long term: -1d from Will, since he faltered quite a bit
where is my present
i was lied to
also what are you talking about, I left the present there, you're drunk
i read through those, yeah, i am digging the game
i hope i get to play the pregnant chick
i wanna play the harlot, but that is just me and my extended wish fulfillment talkin'
I am thinking about maybe running carry: a game about war on the forums as a PbP, what do you think (this would be easier to do if you were ever on wave, cough cough)
and post coming up later
Just keep on plodding onward. Bend your back from dawn to dusk, and then the next day again, and again, and again. That's the way you get on in the world.
oh yeah, relationship with faith = 4
(dice: 6, 6, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2, 2, 1)
RAISE:
No matter how grave it looks.
Esau bends over Faith, puts a hand on her chill brow. That demon had wounded her something fierce, when it had been driven out kicking and screaming; maybe the wound weren't visible, but that didn't make it any better.
"<Sister, it's over,>" he says, in the tongue they share. "<The demon is gone, it is fled into the Darkness, as went our ancestors. Awake.>"
(dice: 6, 6)
(dice: 8,6,6,5,4,4,3,3,3,2,2,1)
TAKING THE BLOW:
That sound, the language of the Mountain People, it comes to Faith through the dark endless excess; once lost in that ocean of black, she hears a voice calling to her, guiding her out of that place. She knows that tongue far better than any other, the only language she can understand; English means nothing to her, not even when it comes from the man claiming to her husband.
Faith opens her eyes and looks at Esau, feels the warmth of his touch and sees the blood smeared across his face. Accidentally, like a martyr, Esau had come to this town, and here he was, helping them all.
She knew he'd save her from this.
(dice: 4,3,3,2)
RAISE:
But demons that dwell deep in the heart of men, they do not care for such mortal fancies; not when a soul that they have tainted and claimed is on the line. They may be gone from her body, but they did not leave without a good fight. The scouring branches of the Tree of Life have dug deep into her flesh and bone, and though they cleared her soul, they did not heal the wounds they made.
Blood, red and thick, starts coming out from the side of Faith's little smile.
Then she starts coughing, choking on that iron-tasting liquid that's flooding up her lungs and making her breathing funny, incapable of continuing for much longer.
(dice: 6,5)
preacher of love 1d6 = 1
lookin a little bumpy, faith, but i've got some dice left in me
TAKE THE BLOW:
That hacking, wet cough seemed out of place from such a little frame as Faith's. It was the sick-cough of a smoker, lungs filled with the demonic influence of tobacco, dripping with phlegm and blood and sin. Well, Esau knows how to deal with that--he gets Pete under one of her arms, and himself under the other, and they drag Faith up, propping whatever soft oddities they can gather under her shoulders, to get her up and let the body do its work in expelling filth.
But the coughing continues, little drops of blood spattering down Faith's front. The root of her wound is deeper than that of the vice of tobacco. The scars of a holy struggle have been imprinted deep inside her.
(dice: 3, 3, 3, 2)
RAISE:
There isn't much he can do but hold a cloth to her mouth and wait for the coughing to stop, even if just for a bit. Her lungs'll get all the blood out eventually, and it's up to the Lord to decide if they'll fill back up. Esau begins to mouth a prayer, but his eye lands on Prudence. Beaten half to death and her head opened up wide, maybe not even conscious right now (she had spoken to him, but had she been aware of it?), suffering the sins of these townspeople.
The Lord would forgive them all, in His time, if they repented and fought against His foes at the End of Days. But would Faith repent? Or is she one of those who would fight against him?
"<Faith.>" His tone is deadly serious--but then again, so are the circumstances. "<This is real important, Sister, so you have to tell me the truth. All I need is a shake or a nod: did you allow the demons into you?>"
(dice: 5, 4)
(dice: 2, 1, 1) (fallout: 4d4)
TAKING THE BLOW:
The coughing, hacking and biting at the ears of those around, stops for a brief moment. Faith breathes for just a moment, in and out, tears starting to come from her eyes from the painful struggle. She pushes that blood-soaked cloth away from her mouth and looks up at Esau, right in his eyes so he can see the hopeless sincerity left in them.
"<No,>" she says.
(dice: 4,3,2)
RAISE:
The coughing starts again for a brief moment, Faith doubling over as her muscles spasm and contract. She falls back as far as she can go, and the coughing stops again. Her head droops down, slack and without energy left. But there's no relief there, no movement that comes from the Mountain Woman but the blood dripping from her mouth, down and onto the floor.
Her body's gone limp, and she isn't breathing anymore.
(dice: 8,6)
christ okay maybe I can do this, i just need two more dice
narration forthcoming but here's my dice anyway
TAKE THE BLOW:
Esau sets to work trying to revive Faith--he compresses her chest, begs a quick prayer, and then presses his mouth to hers and tries to breathe life back into her. It's to no avail. Her skin is growing clammy, ashen. She's not breathing... but her heart is still going, for however much longer, faint and laboring.
"<Pete! Come here... I need you to--yes, hands there--and now you push, every three seconds or so, try to make her breathe.>" He dashes to his saddlebags, where they lay at the door (and a fine thing it was that he'd brought them in, before the storm) and paws through his things. A spoon, and knife, a tin cup. The Book of Life--he knows the words, this is not what he needs right now. But here it is: that little jar, wrapped gently in a cloth, filled with the holy consecrated earth. He uncaps it with shaking hand and returns to Faith's side.
"<Faith, if you can hear me... well, whatever happens, it'll be all right in the end.>" He moistens his finger and dips it into the jar, and with it draws the sign of the Tree of Life on Faith's waxy forehead.
He intones a prayer for her soul. Faith is dying, and he knows it. He will try to make what remains of her life as good as possible, to give her hope in the life Eternal. He will pray to the King for her.
(dice: 6, 4, 2, 1, 1)
(dice: -) (fallout: 9d4)
RAISE:
But his mouth locks up, his throat closes. He can barely stammer the words that he should know by heart, the words he knows he knows by heart. To Pete, he must be a sight. Where there had been been only yesterday a man of stature, who had cowed him into faith in the Lord's love, there was just a little boy, kneeling at a dying woman's side. Pete couldn't know that Esau's mother had died like this, or that Esau had knelt like this at her bedside night after night, but he could see that there was no power left in him.
Esau reaches for that Book of Life from his bag, which he had not thought he needed just moments before. It's a heavy book, and its weight comforts him. A symbol of divinity, here in his hands. With a thick voice, he reads the first passage of the last rites of a dying Faithful.
He interrupts himself with an aborted sniffle. "Lord," he begs, small and insignificant. "Please. Don't let your child die. It ain't her time. It weren't her fault. "
He turns his face and his palms up to heaven, a gesture of prostration. "Please, Lord, let Faith live."
(dice: 3, 1)
Faith, she's been coming down this path a long time. Sinking into the darkness, does she see a light in that infinite void? Does it burn red and orange with the false promises of demons, or is it white and blinding, tearing away this mortal coil and leaving nothing but your soul for His glory? Faith, she doesn't care, she's just slowly dipping way down and down, and down and down, and down and deeper into a place that's thick like molasses, slowly creeping up all around her, thinking that it'll drown her...
Well, what is this?
The light's fading out, something's pushing her back up into the heavy and moist air of the world below Him, the world he made and created inequal. She thinks, begs, asks, why is this happening, isn't it my time? Isn't my soul, my body too damaged to be left upon this earth?
Whispering voices from the world, telling her all she needs to know - it isn't her time. It isn't her fault.
She's going to live.
Eyes flickering, she breathes once more. It's heavy and laboured, swelling into her empty lungs with a struggle each time. But it's breathing enough, and Esau? Well, some might say his prayers have just been answered.
Otherwise, let's get this back on track! The Dogs have got a town to save, and the Elders are saying it'll be all wrapped up by Christmas.
if it's all right with you simon, I'll go with losing my 1d4 trait 'imposing demeanor' and gaining a 1d6 trait 'lifesaver'
Esau stares as Faith works to breathe. A woman, on the brink of death just seconds ago, returned to life by the virtue of prayer and her own innocence.
God is good, he thinks. Praise be.
Wiping a tear from his eye: "<Pete, uh, wait til she's done coughing, then get her, uh, sat up again...>" He pauses for a moment, unsure, and then smiles slightly. Signalling his thanks to Pete for helping him endure these trials, for undergoing them himself.
He goes over to Prudence. "Sister, how you doing?"
She's been falling alseep for seconds at a time, reviving - but she caught all the best parts - and her head is once again pounding. But moreso out of fear, she refuses, she won't, she won't go back to how yesterday was. All that pain, that vulnerability.
Hah, and for sure, she ain't going to sleep anytime soon.
"Oh lord, Esau. What do we do?" Her voice drifts as she asks. She wants to leave this town and never come back. Surely nowhere else can be as sinful as Memphisto.
Esau fights the urge to slump down next to Prudence--he ought to help Pete with Faith, since Prudence seems all right for now. The desire for camaraderie and commiseration must wait, though. He pats her on the shoulder and goes back to Pete's side.