#dorkone

[dangans-n-dorkons]

The original “Way of the Long Death” subclass was created way back in 2015 with the Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide, so I decided to give it a bit of a facelift before playing it in a campaign. I asked some friends (and my DM) for their input to try and make it similar to the recent Tasha's monk subclasses strength-wise, and I think it turned out really well so I thought I'd share it since I haven't really seen any other attempts to improve this particular subclass!

(obligatory disclaimer about balance and the questionability thereof here)

#dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #dnd homebrew #d&d homebrew #dungeons and dragons homebrew #Dorkon Content #dnd monk #dnd homebrew subclass #character creation #monk #monk subclass #way of long death monk #cool #anyways. i haven't playtested it past level like 5 so use at your own discretion #the character i used this for was also multiclassed with rogue. just in case that's pertinent! #i loved the flavor of the way of long death but it was much less useful than way of mercy or the way of the open hand so i tried to fix it #also! my first attempt at using that homebrewery website! i usually just use csp to manually make everything but it actually wasn't too bad

[dorksidefiker]

The begging bowl

So, this month has been hitting me kind of hard in unexpected ways, and now, because my Comcast bill hit at a bad time, my account is overdrawn.  Not, thankfully, by much, but...

If anyone out there could kick a few bucks my way, to keep things from getting worse by way of overdraft fees, I would be eternally grateful.

paypal.me/DorkOne

[hicnaomiest]

Why do the dogs (the two critters in the bottom part of the painting) on Marc Chagall's panting Dorkons List (1961) from an illustrated version of the ancient novel Chloe and Daphnis look like capybaras?

#art #ancient greek #ancient civilizations #ancient history #marc chagall

[lotus0kid]

OUaT: Finding Fate

((For the 2020 Rumbelle Secret Santa, using @dorkone's prompt "castle flirting vs. storybrooke flirting”. Hope you like it!))

Regina racks up enemies like it’s the latest fashion.  At least she doesn’t task Rumpelstiltskin with conjuring her wardrobe as well as resolving her current vendetta.  Someday he’ll enjoy making her understand that she was never more than a means to an end for him.  Until then, he sits at his wheel and ponders how to make things difficult for a certain mermaid.

He nearly jumps off his stool when the doors to the hall fly open and a voice that has no business sounding so cheerful within the gloom of the Dark Castle rings out, “I did it!” Belle strides straight for him, a broad smile on her face and a silver platter balanced on her palm.  “I knew I’d get it eventually.  I wasn’t sifting the flour enough.  Thank the gods I figured it out- this batch is the last of the almond stuff!”

As she circles around to stand at his side Rumpelstiltskin catches the scent of something baked and… minty?  He stops the wheel and inquires, “What strange act have you committed in the kitchens now?”

Belle rolls her eyes at him, “If you wanted a cook you should’ve dealt for one.  But you got me, and I’ve just made a breakthrough in my culinary practice.  Here, try one.”

The platter swings toward him, revealing a number of bite-sized macarons tinted an alarming green shade.  The smell isn’t actually bad, now that he’s a had a minute to get used to it, but he curls a lip anyway.  “No thank you, dearie.  I have no need for… whatever this is.”

“‘Whatever this is’ is a delicacy from my village.  We made them every midwinter.  I thought I’d never get to have them again, but with a little experimentation and perseverance, you can hardly even taste the difference!”

Rumpelstiltskin blinks up at her, then returns his attention to the wheel.  “Right, well, congratulations then.”

Belle lets out a soft snort of indignation before saying, “Won’t you try one?  Here, I’ll go first.”  She picks up one of her creations and pops the whole thing in her mouth.  The instant her pink lips close on it her eyes slip shut and she moans in pleasure.

Rumpelstiltskin locks his gaze on the wood grain of his wheel, the only thing that might save him from the in all ways unwelcome heat rushing through his body.  This is made more difficult when something green bobs into the lower right corner of his vision.

“O-pen u-up…” Belle sing-songs as he resists the urge to lean into the fresh, bright scent of the treat. When did I summon mint oil to the cupboard?  “You know food tastes better when it’s shared, just try one.”

In this second, he snatches for his seer’s sight in hopes of some guidance, receiving silence in response. His own imagination offers the possibility of slapping her hand away- perhaps throw her totally off balance and send the lovely tray of treats clattering to the floor.  The thought of the cold glare she would cast on his back sends a chill through him.  Perhaps not. So, he could go the other way. Do as told, and open up, let her set the macaron on his tongue.  He could even close his lips quickly enough to catch her fingertips, and taste her skin along with the delicate crunch and zing of mint.  

Rumpelstiltskin shakes his head to clear these imaginings- one far too cold, the other far too hot. Belle’s hand retreats.  “All right, never mind then,” she begins, but he reaches out and cups his palm under hers, taking the macaron with his other hand and bringing it to his mouth.

He grinds through it with brisk efficiency.  “A triumph, dearie,” he announces after swallowing, “Well done.”

She smiles, nods.  “Thank you.  It’s good to know I can feed you something.  I don’t care what you say about being sustained by magic, it’s just not healthy to not eat.”

The briefest accidental glance in Belle’s direction reveals a look of warm concern beaming down on him and in that instant a thick, heavy sob swells up in Rumpelstiltskin’s chest, tightens his throat, and makes his eyes burn.  She’s right.  He lets the magic feed him, and it feeds on him in turn.  Sometimes he must call up a gallery of memories of Bae in order to keep the darkness from consuming him.  Once or twice, he’s had trouble recalling the exact shape of his son’s face, which causes frigid fear to blast through him.

Remembering that fear, joined with the horrific likelihood that he might start blubbering in front of Belle, drives him to his feet, and he utters pardons a second before whisking himself off to his tower.

Belle is of course the problem, he decides while pacing stolidly and aimlessly and sighing away the ache in his chest.  He swore an oath to love no one as long as Bae is lost to him.  But she’s here, and she is…  That’s not to say he actually…  It’s his old spinner’s heart, the foolish thing.  It still hasn’t learned- the people he loves, they leave.  He needs to show it what comes of entertaining silly little hopes.  He must look ahead, and see how Belle will free herself from him.  He’ll be calm then.

This is easier said than done.  As proven moments ago in the hall, the seer’s sight is finnicky at best, coming and going as it pleases.  And when he can grab hold of it, it sometimes rattles through more possibilities than Rumpelstiltskin’s mostly human mind can comprehend.  But perhaps he can channel it, focus it in one direction.  Indeed, his focus is clear- it’s Belle’s future he seeks.

He shuts his eyes and extends his awareness to find her walking back to the kitchens, and so takes the opportunity to transport himself into her room and pluck a strand of hair from her pillow.  This he carries back to his tower, then flicks through a dense tome of spells on a desk until he comes to a powerful divination spell.  With his eyes screwed shut as he mutters the words that will drag his seer’s sight to heel, he does not notice a hair from his own head come loose and drift down to join Belle’s in his palm.  But as unremarkable days of caretaker duties unspool within his mind, a mysterious golden haze drifts through, and he feels time speed up to a blur.

He tries to haul back on imaginary reins- he has no interest in zooming all the way to Belle’s eventual death.  Slowly his awareness settles on one point in the future.

The first surprise is that he isn’t a ghostly spectator in this random moment to come.  He feels himself present in the space.  Looking down, he finds himself wearing, not his usual silk and leather, but rather loose-fitting wool trousers matched with a jacket and a shirt fastened by a simple row of buttons.  His only silk is a thin strip tied around his neck, discretely folded under the shirt collar.

His second surprise are his hands.  They appear as those of an ordinary man, a state which is anything but ordinary.  His right wraps comfortably around a gold-handled cane- in this peculiar vision he’s aware of his maimed ankle as a distant stiffness.  His left hand holds the bow and neck of a violin.  He doesn’t have much time to study the instrument before the sounds of an opening door and a ringing bell come from beyond a curtain hanging in the doorway of the room he occupies, which appears to be the storage space of a small shop of curiosities.

After a moment, the curtain is pulled back to admit his third and biggest surprise- Belle, carrying what appears to be a sack made of paper and wearing a skirt far shorter than anything Rumpelstiltskin’s ever seen on a woman of her station.  She doesn’t seem at all bothered by this, smiling wide as her eyes fall to the violin.  “Unearth something interesting?” she asks before setting down the sack on a small table nearby.  “You might want to wait until after lunch to tell me about it.  Ruby said Madame Mayor was snapping at everyone when she got coffee this morning, so we may not have long to eat.”

None of that makes sense to Rumpelstiltskin- or, at least, the Rumpelstiltskin of the present.  The Rumpelstiltskin to come replies with ease while his past counterpart observes from within, “If she requires another lesson in patience, I’m happy to provide it.  Come have a look at this.”

She comes to stand before him as he holds out the violin.  Its body is decorated with wood inlays depicting two people in profile with their arms outstretched.  Magic curls away from their hands, meeting at the strings.  “Lovely.  And powerful, I suppose?” she inquires with a raised brow.

“Versatile, more than anything.  Play a certain tune, achieve a certain magical effect, assuming you play well. Shall I?”  Rumpelstiltskin lets the cane fall against his hip and transfers the bow to his right hand, setting it on the strings but pausing there with his gaze on Belle.

She nibbles at her lower lip, but soon says with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, “Why not?”

“Very well,” Rumpelstiltskin says with a grin of his own.  He closes his eyes and searches the enchantments laid upon the violin, and finds something that might actually be familiar.  An old tune his Aunt Iph used to play for Aunt Im.  The melody slowly emerges as he draws the bow along the strings. 

It’s not long before he hears a soft gasp and then a bright giggle.  Belle’s hands fall on his shoulders and he opens his eyes to take her in as she floats about an arm’s length off the floor.  Light shining through a nearby window gleams every part of her it touches.  He maintains the tempo and volume of the song, which keeps her from drifting any higher. After a moment’s uncertainty, she lifts her hands, swaying and bobbing slightly to the beat, turning a slow circle in the air.  Rumpelstiltskin can’t say when he’s seen anything more beautiful, and his heart melts with love.

When she faces him again her hands return to his shoulders.  Beaming down on him, she murmurs, “That’s the tragedy of musicians- they don’t get to dance.”

Her brow furrows slightly and her hold on him tightens, and he actually feels the magic he’s emitting flow through her back into him, settling in his feet as a lightness that almost tickles.  Then he’s rising, rising up to meet her.  Belle’s arms slide around his neck as the distance continues to close between them.  Her lips brush his and in that instant there’s a blinding flash of gold light behind his eyes and the vision snaps out of existence and Rumpelstiltskin drops hard against the desk, knocking the tome of spells into a mess of fluttering pages on the floor.

He grips the edge of the desk, feet and lips still tingling, trying to understand what just happened. Because it can’t be the future, what he saw.  It’s not possible.  Him and Belle, together, really quite unmistakably in love.  True love.  No, it cannot be.  Anyway, in that world it didn’t seem instantly apparent where Bae was, and therefore it was no world Rumpelstiltskin wants to live in.  Not at all.

He crouches down to pick up and turn the tome over and check for damage.  The spell on the page it falls open to is something to do with happy dreams.  Ah, clearly he misread earlier and cast this instead of a divination spell.  Of course.  He should try again.  Ensure he’s on the right page, and figure out what fate of Belle’s will take her away.

He definitely means to.  It’s just that a half-finished project catches his attention, and he forgets all about it.  And when it crosses his mind again, the hint of an old tune he only just remembered wanders through his mind, and he decides he doesn’t need to know.  Not yet.

#dorkone #rumbelle secret santa #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #once upon a time #fanfiction

[picorihero]

brand new flavorful codename for every puppet under GaLAME and DORKon’s control:

ＧＲＯＳＳ

#v; challenger approaching #▲; gossip stones ( dash commentary ) #world of light spoilers #( tbh i only use this tag because of dorkon ) #( and that's why they're the true evil ;( )

[dhxrkon]

∅ yoits the dad

“ALL of the Hocotatians annoy me. Them and their pitiful little rodents they call Pikmin are just abominations waiting to be stepped on…”

“… Or, controlled by the likes of me. Alone they have their minions perform menial tasks with very little payoff, but summon the swarm of locusts on your own will, and suddenly you have an effective army on your hands.”

“Perhaps Olimar will be useful to me, if not providing me with sustainable cannon fodder for the future.”

#lazuroleplaypersonal #/|\ drowned in black (ic) #/|\ mortal questions (ask) #dorkon that's not very nice

[peacehopeandrats]

Rumbelle Secret Santa!

Happy winter, @dorkone​! I was your Secret Santa this year.

Hopefully my stumbling through the history of Rumbelle is a gift worthy of the end of this year and will see you into the new one with warmth and happiness.

I realized a little too late I didn’t really ask about fluff or angst, so hopefully this hits just the right amount of what you were looking for.

I’ll include the visuals I used based off of your text prompts below as well.

The Oldest Door

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Original Characters Additional Tags: The Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time), The Enchanted Forest (Once Upon a Time), Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Angst, Season/Series 02

Summary: Belle has been taken to the Dark Castle as Rumplestiltskin's maid but the Dark One has plans for her beyond simple servitude, all revolving around texts hidden behind the castle's most mysterious door. Older than all the rest and out of place, it is the only door Belle is not allowed to use. As the winter passes both the rules and Rumple's plans begin to change. Can the promises made at the door's threshold survive in a land without magic or will they be forever changed with the curse that approaches?

The prompt was: ribbon, book, older, blue, forbidden 

The visuals I chose to further inspire me were all based on the words above and are here:

#Rumbelle Secret Santa #RSS 2021 #rumbelle

[rumbellesecretsanta]

2020 RSS Gift Masterlist

A smidge late, but here’s a list of all the gifts from last year’s RSS.  Just in time to get people in the mood for this year’s event!

If I missed anyone’s gift, please send me an Ask with a link and I’ll add it to the list.

avatoh - A Christmas Kiss

beastlycheese - Belle and the Mystery Box

boushh2187 - The Festival

dorkone - An Inkling

eirian-houpe - Seven Tastes

Joylee56 - At Least It’s Not Made from Curtains

killingkueen - There’s Snow Place Like Home*

lotus0kid - OUaT: Finding Fate

Magicalgiven - The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

Moonlight91 - Inverted Circumstances

Mrs-Stiltskin - Beyond the Red Door

notalwayslate - What Must Be Done

silwenworld - A Leap of Faith

spottytonguedog - Day 24

TheStraggleTag - Three Appointments and a Wedding

#Rumbelle Secret Santa

[dorkone]

Summary: Through an unexpected addition in their afternoon tea, Belle and Rumplestiltskin are reminded of a forgotten exchange from their past.

Notes: for @boushh2187​​! I had so much fun being your santa! Admittedly, I was a little nervous when first reading your prompt “Walk through fire for you” but as you soon will find out, I made great use of it and honestly, I think I got a little carried away and I am glad for it. This is really special because this is my first time ever writing fanfiction and I truly hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!

#boushh2187 #rumbelle secret santa #rumbelle rss #rumbelle #belle french #belle gold #gideon gold #rumplestiltskin #mr. gold #my fic #ouat #once upon a time

[rebelcourtesan]

Thicker than Water Sneak Peek Ch. 13

Has not been edited nor put through Grammarly.  

“Something’s wrong,” Marty muttered, talons tapping the back of his phone as he awaited a response.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Shard told him with a lit cigarette between his teeth.  

“She hasn’t texted back . . .”

“In give fuckin’ minutes.  She’s probably on the john or busy with somethin’.  Give her time.”

“I need to go in there.”

“How?  They aren’t going to let a chump like you in there,” Shard retorted, tapping ashes out the window.  “Just be cool.”

“She’s in there with the Von Eldritchs.”

“Right and she’s with Angel Dust, the celebrated porn star.  They’re probably just brushing elbows and tryin’ to chat ‘em up.  Nothin’ to worry about.”

The car was parked in an alley, just a street down where they could see the front of the Midnight Song glowing like a beacon in the night.  He should be in there with Liz.  She didn’t know all the dangers Hell could pose for her and if she’s mingling with the Von Eldritchs . . .

“I can go invisible and . . .”

“You’re not going to do shit,” Shard replied with a dangerous edge in his voice.  “A place like that has wards to keep out any magic or unwanted guests that go through the front door.  And if ya do make it in there, what then?  You gonna offend the Von Edritchs, one of the top noble families in Hell because they talked to your daughter?  Give her away her disguise and paint a big fuckin’ target on her back?”

Marty wanted to argue, hell, he wanted to deck Shard for saying things that made too much sense.  Taking a deep swig from his flask, he checked his phone for a response and his worry deepened when none came.

***

She returned to consciousness in phases.  First she could feel the cold floor beneath her, then hear a voice calling her name, then smell a sweet candied musk.

“Hey, hey, Liz, baby, ya gotta snap outta it,” the voice was telling her.  

Who was that?  She recognized the voice, but not the name attached to it.  Whoever it was, spoke as if they knew her.  And why did her feet ache?

“Hey, wake up!”  

A slap across her face made her eyes water, but she was able to focus on the source of the voice.  A pink face with large heterochromia eyes hovered above hers and she was able to pluck a name from memory.  “Angel Dust?”

“Yeah, doll, yeah, that’s me.  Are ya alright?”

“I will be . . .I just need a few minutes.”  Her head was pounding and she was very tired.  “How long . . .how long did it last?”

“Too fuckin’ long.  Jesus, maybe a minute?”

“That’s good . . .”

“What the fuck happened, Liz?  You blacked out and began twitching.”

Sighing, she tried to sit up and her head swam.  Nope, wasn’t quite ready for that yet.  “I have epilepsy.”

“Shit . . .” Angel Dust breathed.  “Does Marty . . .”

“No, he doesn’t know and you don’t tell him,” Liz shook her head and regretted it as nausea almost made her gag.  God, she hadn’t taken her anti-seizure medication since the night the imps attacked her.  That was two days ago so the medicine must have left her system by now, especially since its been in overdrive with all the stress of everything that's happened since she’s been in Hell.  “I’ll tell him . . .but not right now.”

“What if you . . .ya know . . . black out again?”

“I shouldn’t black out again for a few more days,” Liz promised.  “At least, I don’t think I will.  Jesus, my head hurts.”

“I got some vicodin,” Angel Dust offered, snapping open his purse.  “It’s great for hangovers.”  

“You have vicodin?  In Hell?”  

“Oh yeah, you get all the drugs down here, doll.”

Hope rose in her heart.  “What about gabapentin?  Or phenytoin?”

“Never heard of those, but I ain’t  never looked for ‘em neither,” Angel Dust shrugged.  “If they’re prescription drugs or narcotics, then someone is selling it somewhere in Hell.”

She felt a heavy weight lift off her shoulders at the possibility of controlling her seizures down here.  It was a good feeling that her nausea ebbed away and she was able to sit up, but with some help from Angel Dust.  After a drink of water from the sink to swallow the vicodin.  She kicked off the stilettos as her legs were still wobbling and her sense of balance completely back yet.  

While she recovered, Angel Dust began smoking a cigarette that gave off an oddly crimson line of smoke from the lit tip.  It didn’t have that noxious smell of burning nicotine, but a sweet musk that send a pearl of desire through her lower belly.  It must be a positive sign that the throes of the seizure was leaving her.  

She checked her phone and saw over a dozen messages from Marty.  “Shit, Dad, just calm down.”

“What?”  Angel Dust asked, lowering his cigarette which continued to fill the air with its fragrance.  

“My Dad is worrying about why I haven’t replied to each and everyone of his texts,” she muttered as she sent a reply assuring him that everything was alright.  I’m fine.  Angel and I went to the restroom.  

Marty’s response was so quick, she believed he had been staring at the phone awaiting her reply.  Did you get away from the Von Eldritchs?

She texted: For right now.

Marty texted:  Stay away from them!

“Angel, can you tell me who those guys were?”  She was tired of being warned without being given clear information of why.  “I take it from how you handled them that they’re important somebodies that you don’t want to cross.”

“Got it in one, doll,” Angel Dust said, dropping the cigarette into the toilet.  “The Von Eldritch Family is nobility and close to the royal family.  So much so that prick Seviathan used to date the princess.”

“Really?  That’s the one that said something about Hell being purer earlier.”  She opened her purse and checked her makeup.  It was a bit smeared around the mouth, but easily remedied.

“Oh, don’t listen t’ that bullshit,” Angel Dust said, rolling his eyes and fluffy out his hair and chest puff in the mirror next to her.  “If it wasn’t for us Sinners, then Hell would be nothing more than fire and brimstone.  Where do ya think the nightclubs, television, porn, and smartphones they enjoy so much come from?  Oh, please, whenever the hellborn nobles got somethin’ to bitch about, it’s always about the Sinners and how we’re muckin’ up the purity of Hell.”

“So what do we do?  They’re looking for Rathel too.”  

“Dunno.  If it was anyone else, I’d say get to work on Dorkon.  That’s one who has loose lips,” Angel Dust said, checking his makeup.  “He may be a little shit, but he’s the Von Eldritch’s little shit.  They don’t exactly like others t’ make fun of their clowns, ya know what I mean?”  

“Damn,” Liz sighed.  “So we can either cut our losses and sneak out of here or take a risk and use them to find Rathel.”

“It’s your call, doll,” Angel Dust shrugged all four shoulders.  

***

“Would you relax?  You did all that panickin’ and they were just on the john like I said,” Shard groaned. 

“Shut up, Shard,” Marty snapped, thumbing a text message to Liz.  “I’m calling this whole thing off.”

“What the fuck, man!?  They got a lead on Rathel!”  Shard grabbed the phone from Marty’s grasp.  

“I don’t want her anywhere near the Von Eldritch.  I want her out of there now.”

“Jesus Christ, she said it herself they’re fine.  What are you going to tell Tony Shark?  Telling him that Rathel is connected to the Val Eldritch will not be enough and you know it.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

Marty didn’t know how to explain the sudden weight in his stomach that told him something was wrong, that something had happened to her inside.  He hated this feeling of helplessness or this restraint that kept him from running inside and taking her out of there, even if it was over his shoulder.

With his attention on the Midnight Song’s gibbous glow, he failed to notice the street darkening as shadows crawled along the walls and pavement.  A cane tapped the asphalt while tap-shoes clicked along while a low musical hum carried an old tune as the figure continued along the street, a pinstripe coat swayed with each step, catching a silent wind.  

Oblivious to the sudden change in atmosphere and the figure strolling past the car, Shard was yelling at Marty.  “Are you out of your fuckin’ mind, Marty!?  Tony is going to bite your goddamn head off if you don’t pay your dues.”

“And I will!  But not at Liz’s expense!”

“She’s the reason why you’re in this mess!”  Shard hissed, baring his teeth in barely contained fury.  

“Give me back the phone, Shard,” Marty growled, tail lashing his legs and floorboard.  

“No,” Shard’s eyes were narrowed into yellow slits.  

Marty’s eyes began to narrow, then suddenly went wide.  “Shard . . .”

“What?”  

“What’s going on over there?”  Marty was pointing at something up the street behind Shard.  

“You've been watchin’ too many cartoons,” Shard retorted sardonically.  “If you think I’m just gonna turn around so you can punch me in the back of the head and get your phone back.”

“Goddammit, Shard, look at the club!  Look at the moon!”

It wasn’t much as the ferocity in Marty’s voice, but the fear in them that made Shard turn around.  The Midnight Song’s neon sign of the moon was blood red and people the people lined outside were fleeing for their lives in all directions.

A couple were charging down the street towards them.  Shard rolled down the window and stuck his head out.  “Hey!  What’s going on?  Why ya runnin’?”

A female demon with yellow fur stopped, but her boyfriend, a demonic horse, almost dragged her along in his haste to get away.  She managed to shout before being towed along, “The Radio Demon just went into the Midnight Song!”

“Oh shit,” Shard breathed.  “Marty . . .”

But Marty wasn’t there.  He was already sprinting up the street towards the Midnight Song, going invisible as he went.

#hazbin hotel #thicker than water

[dangans-n-dorkons]

Hi! Due to your tags I just found you randomly in the probablybadrpgideas ”Christmas is coming roll initiative” post. And I’m reaally curious now, can you tell more about the oneshot? And also really cool blog you got here otherwose too

thanks so much for the question and interest in my blog!

I'll be running a christmas-themed oneshot in a version of "The Black Hack" known as "The Mecha Hack". It's a rules-light system that's quick to pickup and easy to play. The Mecha Hack specifically has rule sets for mech-suit combat.

The bare bones plot pitch is that my players will be sent on a top-secret mission in the middle of a blizzard to prevent an unknown aircraft from becoming a threat on Christmas eve. After they reach a specific set of coordinates to intercept the bogey it'll be revealed when the clock strikes midnight that their foe is none other than Santa Claus himself. Santa has a transforming sleigh that turns into his own personal Mech, and eight drone-like robot companions that are easily mistaken for flying deer, except instead of legs they have guns :) Anyway, Santa shows up, they fight, and before the night is over he mysteriously vanishes and leaves presents for the squad, and everyone else on the planet.

#Ask the DM #Dorkon Content #not dnd

[dorksidefiker]

Tumblr has decided I can’t link my Kofi in my header anymore

So, if you’re feeling generous: https://ko-fi.com/dorkone

About Me: I’m a multi-fandom writer, I live in Seattle, I have an ever growing collection of Transformers merch, and I love werewolves.  I try to keep things on this blog relatively low key and happy. She/Her.

[killiarious]

Remember Dorkone!Emma trying to convince Hook that they should be together cuz Rumbelle loved each other Lol lol lol I forgot

#captain swan

[themightyrumbeller]

Look at this! February 25 Anniversary of a DorkOne waiting for a kiss of the help!

Tweet de @robertcarlyle_: https://twitter.com/robertcarlyle_/status/306235771310968833?s=09

#rumbelle #belle french #rumplestiltskin #robert carlyle #emilie de ravin

[gxleem-blog]

galeem more like galame

HOW DO I HATE YOU? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS...THY TENTACLES ART LIMP AND SOGGYTHY EYE A PUTRID PURPLETHY BODY A MASS OF FILTHAND THY BRAIN IS SMALLER THAN SQUIRTLE’S,SHUT UP, DORKON!

#☀ I AM THE SUN; LIGHT ETERNAL // answered #oh my god #dhxrkon

[cosmicxmuses]

@picorihero

Link applauds u because he also found the joke funny.

{☆}” I’m glad you found it funny too! Dorkon is just so easy to make fun of yah know!”

#vers:world of light #picorihero #{Gryll}