#I could pick up a prompt list and roll a d20 and go for it

[dingoat]

Writing Patterns Tag Game

Tagged by @cinlat ! Thank you! Wow it was fun going back on all these bits of writing hahaha, the RP has definitely been going on all this time but to get to ten actual posted pieces I had to travel quite a long way back. Definitely makes me want to actually set down more of the ideas and musings I let float around in my head. @storyknitter @queen-scribbles @mimabeann @vespertine-legacy @tehriel @swtorpadawan @greencrusader13 if any of you folk feel inclined to play along please do!

Rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

Void-touched - Five never bothered with mirrors these days.

Five Years - He was as infuriating as he’d ever been.

Prompt: Six Repressed Memories - The night before, they’d stayed up late, conspiring in the fort in whispers that were too loud, overstimulated and giddy for the day to come.

Prompt: Repressed Memory for the Best Girl - The moon was bright and her belly was full, and best of all the pain had stopped, she’d found the source and shut it down and now everything was still and peaceful.

Artificial - Libby had wanted to hike Mount Marvellous for as long as she could remember, and she was beside herself when she finally had the opportunity to book a tour and be guided up the mountainside after years of training and research.

Prompt: Kiss, as a promise - “I don’t want to go.”

Prompt: "You could have died." - The days had been leisurely and indulgent, but with time came room for doubts and misgivings to creep in, giving a sour edge to the otherwise thoroughly pleasant experience of exploring the late Darth Vesstriss’ private estate.

Prompt: Protect - “Fynta. Hey. Hey is that you?”

Epilogue II - His bright blue eyes were the last things she saw before the lake swallowed her.

Prompt: "I'm only here to establish an alibi." - “WHOOOOAAAA–!!” Three voices hollered out in chorus as the out of town competitor, a burly selonian with jagged patterns bleached into her dark fur, was sent skidding across the ring.

#tag game #writing tag game #actually pleasantly surprised by the variety in my openings #I think something I can pick up from this #is that prompts make me way more productive #and I know it's the psychology acting there #I could pick up a prompt list and roll a d20 and go for it #but it's just not the same as that initial human interaction? #that teeny tiny show of interest? #but that's probably also why #putting out prompt lists all the time makes me feel like I'm begging/being annoying #which tends to stay my hand 99% of the time #and I really should just #put out there #give as much as I hope to receive #and let the wild flow of the internet take its course #anyway #THIS WAS REAL FUN I still love all these stories so much? #ty <3

[somebodysumbuddy]

Monstertober, Day 10

Following @snejkha ‘s Monstertober prompt list.

Day 10: Ghost

d20 roll: Amulet

Thrifting with your elder neighbor, Mrs. Brown, was a weekly event. Every Saturday you walked yard sales, estate sales and second hand stores for a couple of hours until you saw her steps slowing down. After a quick little lunch you dropped her back off at home. It was a nice routine even if it was too early a start on the weekend. You never really hunted for anything, instead just trailing behind Mrs. Brown as she whittled good deals out of every day purchases.

She would sometimes pick up a piece, declare that you must absolutely have it, and purposefully charge to the owner ready to bargain the price down. You had to admit she hadn’t been proved wrong yet, everything she’d picked fit seamlessly into your apartment. It wasn’t out of character that she had insisted you needed the amulet. It was only out of character by the look of desperation on her face rather than lighthearted joy.

You recognized the difference in her demeanor and instead didn’t let her try to barging, taking it straight to the front and paying the price with no pause. The owner of the stall didn’t spare it a look, they were known to buy out old storage units and such. With no personal attachment they threw out a lower end price. You slipped the amulet into your pocket and made your way back to Mrs. Brown.

She didn’t return your tentative smile. Worried that she may be uncomfortable you suggested cutting the morning short and instead ushered her to lunch. After returning her to her apartment you quickly brought up her sons contact on your phone, he was a good friend from college who you kept in touch with. You contemplated reaching out to him, but eventually decided it was a small thing to worry him over. Instead you’d go over tomorrow and join her for an early coffee to check in on her. You mourned your loss of sleep for tomorrow as you closed your door behind you and dropping your keys in the bowl under the mirror.

It was only a cursory glance you had given the mirror, more force of habit, an involuntary decision due to its position. But it was enough for you to see the man standing behind your shoulder. Everything in you froze. Your blood ran cold as it all drained to your feet. With a deep breath you jerked your head over the left shoulder. Emptiness met you, with the adrenaline still being fired into you, you instead jerked back to your right, looking into the mirror.

The same figure appeared. Again you jerked to your left. Nothing. Another look into the mirror made you freeze.

The man was smiling, a fully grin spread across his face. You took in more details, he was a couple inches taller than your own 6’2” height, his shoulders visible over yours. He tipped his head down, causing the chin length hair that framed his face to instead cover it from view. His eyes, deep set but impossibly bright, shone through like beacons. A pale crystal blue filled them, only leaving a pinpoint pupil in its center.

Each muscle in your body was tensing and locking up. The longer you studied the apparition behind you the more you felt adrenaline fading and dead filling you instead.

“Do you want to take another stab at it? Maybe on the third one you’ll see me.” The voice didn’t come from behind you. It sounded like a whisper called by a wind you couldn’t feel.

You’re not sure how it happens, rather what actually happened but you came to on the floor in your entry way. Slowly you sit sat up, feeling the back of your head and stretching out your arms. Your whole body felt tender. As you sat on the floor and gathered your bearings a whisper wrapped around you. “I did try to catch you, I would have if I could.” You shivered, looking around you at the empty space. The voice faintly continued. “Really, another fall like that might break the amulet. Wouldn’t that fix all my problems...”

You were going crazy. You had to be. You cleared your throat, trying to open your throat up enough for you to speak and breathe. Finally, you managed to strangle out a strangled “Who are you?”

“Who am I... what am I... I’ll answer both if you break that pretty little trinket in your pocket.” You didn’t know where to focus as you heard the voice. It came from nowhere specifically, instead it swirled around you. Whatever they were they were tied to the amulet. You fished it out of your pocket, and held it protectively in your hand. It helped you gather your strength.

“I’ll go put this in the floor safe right this second if you don’t start explaining yourself.” It took a moment before the wind answered.

“Ah. Well under the circumstances, please let me introduce myself. I am Fredrick. I have been following that amulet for four lifetimes.” You set up straighter, with your back against the wall. As the conversation continued your voice gained confidence.

“You need the amulet broken to be free? Why?” Another pause met your questions.

“Yes... in a sense. I have a certain... connection to it, its more of a fondness I really.” You narrowed your eyes.

“It seems mighty suspicious that you would want to break an amulet your so fond of.” You looked around you, not catching a glimpse of the apparition. You tested your stability while you waited for a response. Standing you looked in the mirror again. Emptiness. You almost sighed in relief before the man appeared behind you again.

“Yes, well, I try to save the sob story for only the closest of friends...” You waited for him to continue, making eye contact through the mirror. “Fine. If you insist. I gave that amulet to a lover under false pretenses. Turns out my true intentions were rather obvious, they felt a deceived, got a little heated about it, next thing I know I’m cursed. In my defense, I wouldn’t have lied if I knew they were a witch.” If you focused really hard you could make out distinct features, a shadow of a beard, a slight tilt to their sharp nose.

“So you’re tied to the amulet because of a curse?” The slight smirk fell off his face, replaced by a grimace.

“Yes its somewhat like that. I’m destined to follow the amulet until my promises ring true for the holder or it’s shattered like their heart.” You could almost see his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. “They used much more ornate language, such was the norm back then. Honestly, I’ve come to the conclusion they were being extremely petty.” His smirk returned as he tried to lighten the mood.

You regarded him in the mirror. Truly you had no way of knowing if anything he said was true. You were speaking to air; this could all be a reaction to a gas leak. Impulsively you pulled the amulet out of your pocket, looking in the mirror at Fredrick once more before you dropped it on the ground. Your heel came down on it a second later. You didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with whatever this situation developed into. Best to cut it off at the bud.

You caught Fredrick’s gasp of shock in the mirror before a grin spread over his face. He spared you a breathy ‘thank you’ before he disappeared from the mirror. You shivered as if you had felt his very presence leave.

You shook yourself of the experience, immediately trying to block it all out. You blamed your commitment to denial for your extreme reaction. Two weeks later, as you turned off your television it reflected back the image of a man sitting beside you. Your voice rose three octaves as you screamed, clutching your bowl of snacks.

Once again your checked beside you, nothing, you looked back at the refection as the shock began fading.

“What are you doing here? I broke the amulet! I even threw out the pieces!”

“Yes, and I’m very grateful. Only, now I don’t know what to do with eternity. I thought I could spend some of it with you, if you don't mind the intrusion...”

#Monstertober #monstober #ghost #monsterfucker #monsterlover #prompt #prompt list #I know i broke my pinky promise im sorry i am working on it #please don't break my pinky #i will deliver.... just late....

[burr-ell]

decided to roll a couple d20s on this prompt list and write what i landed on

set in the grey hunter au by @ghostofwhitestone

12. goodnight kiss

"Quiet, Percy!" Vex whispered through her giggles as she pulled him by the hand through the gardens.

"It's hardly my fault!" Percy whispered back with a grin, ducking out of the way of a tree branch as he ran. "You got me talking about him!"

They came to a stop behind a massive topiary of an owlbear so Vex could let Percy catch his breath. "Well, I'm not the one who said he looked like an egg on stilts," she said, fighting the peals of laughter bubbling up within her.

Percy was not quite so restrained, snickering as loud as he dared. "Well, he did!"

Vex shook her head, taking a deep breath to calm herself, lips still curling irresistibly into a smile. "Come on," she said. "We're almost at your room."

"Alright, alright," Percy panted as they picked up their pace again. "Must we really move so fast?"

"We have to get back before anyone figures you're gone," said Vex in a rehearsed tone. "I keep telling you to get more exercise."

"I can hardly study my chemistry books while running."

Vex cast him an exasperated look over her shoulder and tried not to smile when she saw his cheeky little grin. "Come on," she said. She pulled out her bow and took aim at the little pressure point just below Percy's balcony. It struck true and a little door swung open, unfurling a rope ladder that swung down to the grass below.

"I still can't believe you made this," Vex said. He really was brilliant, her Percy.

Her Percy. She tried not to think about him too much like that, but she couldn't deny the giddy swoop in her stomach when she did.

He preened a little. "I've not made something quite like it before. I'm glad you gave me a reason."

Vex smirked. "Did I, now?"

"I was hardly the one who liked sneaking out, you know," he said haughtily. "I was terribly well-behaved before meeting you."

"Terribly boring, maybe," Vex scoffed good-naturedly. "Now go on to bed before someone sees!"

Percy hoisted himself up onto the ladder and paused. "May we...may I see you again tomorrow night?"

Vex shook her head, one of the hardest answers she ever had to give. Percy always looked like such a kicked puppy when she said no. "I've got patrol and special training tomorrow night, and we can't go out every night or it looks suspicious. But," she added, and she couldn't help her own smile as Percy immediately perked up, "in two nights I'm free. Is that alright?"

"It—yeah! I mean"—Percy cleared his throat, pale cheeks burning even in the shadows—"yes, it sounds wonderf—lovely, I mean."

There was a pause as they looked at each other, Vex trying to think about the smoothest next move without being obvious, before Percy blurted, "Well, goodnight!" and scampered up the ladder.

Vex watched him climb, both impressed at his dexterity and a little disappointed. She'd wanted to...well...

But why not?

There were some very good answers to that question, and Vex could think of none of them. She huffed, squared her shoulders, and clambered her way up the rope ladder quick as a cat, leaping up and landing nimbly on the dark balcony.

Percy, just inside his door and already kicking off his shoes, whipped around. "Oh, Vex!" he gasped, a hand coming to clutch at his chest. "Gods, don't do that—"

Vex strode forward and yanked Percy by the collar down to her level. "I'll try to remember next time," she said, hoping she sounded as cool as she thought she did before pressing her lips to his.

It was rather quick, only lasting a couple of seconds, but it was long enough for Vex. She pulled back, eyes blinking open slowly enough to take in the startled, but no less pleased, expression on her Percy's face.

There it was again, that feeling in her stomach. She'd have to stop thinking that...probably.

"Good—goodnight," she said, a wide grin spreading irresistibly across her face. And in a few graceful leaps (she hoped they were graceful, at least), she was back in the gardens below.

It was almost by rote, the way she shot the arrow to trigger the ladder's furling-up and closing mechanism before slipping through the gardens, keeping to the shadows and hiding in the foliage, with a hint of magic she'd learned for concealment. She crept out of the castle grounds, down through the forest to Whitestone below, and to her little house just next to the Grey Hunt manor, shushing a curious Trinket and hoisting herself up a great oak tree and through the window.

And when she collapsed onto her bed with a sigh only for the adrenaline to bubble up in smothered giggles as she buried her face in her pillow, she had never been more grateful that she and Vax didn't share a room.

#perc'ahlia #percahlia #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia #critical role #otp: it's yours (my heart and my judgment) #biting (burr writing)

[bettsfic]

hello! do you have any writing exercises you would recommend to someone who is trying to get back into the habit of writing fiction after not doing it for years? I've wanted to write for a really long time but was always held back by insecurity and fear

sure! 

1. beliefs & techniques

read kerouac’s “belief and technique for modern prose.” as you can see, it’s kinda nuts, but the gist is, it’s a list of 30 “rules” or really just vague thoughts kerouac values about writing. try writing your own list of 30 rules/thoughts/ideals you have about writing. 

this exercise is important because it begins the practice of metacognition. what will help you grow most as a writer is to write about writing. i recommend handwriting this list and sticking it in an envelope to open in a few months or a year, and see if any of your perspectives have changed.

2. the imperative (choose one, or try both!)

option 1: read jamaica kincaid’s “girl.” consider a way in which you feel you’ve been led astray, someone has failed you, or you’ve felt stifled or constrained in some way. then, try to write your own version of “girl,” by writing a list of commands you’ve been told in the form of a story. 

option 2: read lorrie moore’s “how to become a writer.” then, think of something you’re very good at, something that you’ve developed an expertise in. a la “how to become a writer,” write a story in the form of a tutorial. you could also try this as fiction, and do something like “how to get a restraining order from elon musk.” or at least, i hope that would be fictional.

both of these stories use the imperative to build a narrative. by constraining the structure into a list of commands, you’re immediately freed of a lot of creative decision-making you’d otherwise have to do if you were to write, say, third person literary past chronological order. you’re also writing about things you know. i don’t necessarily believe in the “write what you know” adage, but i do think sticking with what you know can be a good place to start.

3. make your own writing exercise toolkit

here’s how you can set up an ongoing writing exercise practice. 

first, write a list of 20 things you love. i don’t mean material things, or things you like. i mean things you care about. things you’d die for. things that, when you think about them too long, you start crying or feel like you’re going to explode. they can be concrete, like “a cup of tea on a cold afternoon and a good book” or they can be abstract, like, “courage.” the point is, they all have to be things that excite you or fulfill you. things you can think about or talk about or do for hours. number them 1 through 20.

then, do a bit of searching and find a list of stories, essays, or poems that you haven’t read before (or ones you haven’t read in a long time). they should be short. if you don’t know where to start, check out matt bell’s thread of 365 short stories he read this year. by the way, he also has a monthly writing exercise newsletter! i’m also very fond of the longreads weekly newsletter.

once a week (or however often you want to do this), pick one of the stories/essays/poems and read it. while reading, consider how it’s constructed. what voice is it written in? how does it move through time? what is the inciting incident and rising action? how does it resolve? who are the characters, and how do they grow? find something you admire about it, that you want to “take” for your own writing. maybe you want to try out the structure, like the kerouac exercise, or maybe the narration, like the kincaid/moore exercise. maybe you like the way images are described, or how the scenes fit together. or maybe there’s something you hate about it, and you want to try to do the opposite. or maybe you want to try the thing you hate, to see if you can better understand it. pick something about the piece, and think of it as a prompt, the way i’ve written the prompts above. 

then, roll a d20 (you can google “virtual d20″ and it brings up one automatically). correspond the result of the d20 with the list of the 20 things you love most. that will be what you write about. the idea is, it should be easy, since it’s something you love. 

for example, let’s say i want to read kiese laymon’s “how to slowly kill yourself and others in america,” which is one of my favorite essays. what i admire most about this essay is its structure. while i read, i would take notes about the way it’s put together, and i would summarize the basic beats and movements. i’d note that the essay focuses on four moments that have a common theme. obviously, i do not want to steal from mr. laymon. i want to learn from him, in the same way as when you eat a good meal, you might ask for the recipe. so, i’d roll my d20, and let’s say i get “courage.” i would then write an essay or short story in which i focus on four scenes or moments of courage. 

i’ll do one more example. let’s try “afterglow” by allegra hyde. i think this one is trickier because it’s a fabulist piece, but after reading it, i noticed that it’s a sort of braid with three main elements: the gatorade, the donor show, and the divorce. the gatorade is an unreal element of the story tying together the present conflict (the donor show) and the past conflict (the divorce). so maybe i’d pick 3 things off my list instead of just one, and write a story about my favorite stuffed animal coming to life, with a present conflict involving my best friend (or a character much like him), and a past conflict involving loyalty. or, i could broaden the prompt and simply take the fabulist element of turning into the thing you consume, while writing a story about loyalty. 

if you run out of your first list of 20 things, you can make another list of 20 things that make you angry, or 20 things you’re afraid of, or 20 questions you have about yourself and your life. you could even make a list of a hundred things all together, and roll a percentile die.

i hope this helps. please don’t be afraid or insecure. everyone has to start somewhere, and the best place to start is just to play around writing about things that bring you joy. 

#writing advice #Anonymous

[wanderinginksplot]

Prompt: Wolffe + Late-Night Snacks

Here it is: the only fic from this prompt list that was requested by someone other than my set of d20 dice! @asiamnow, here you go. Sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy!

You exhaled a silent, shaking breath as you stepped gingerly down the darkened corridor. This mission was delicate, high-stakes, and you weren't going to ruin it with a misstep. You refused. Call it a matter of professional pride, as well as self-preservation. 

Finally, you had passed the area containing the most danger and could walk normally again. The slightest sound outside of the barracks on the Solidarity, Plo Koon's flagship, and you would have been swamped with clone troopers.

Still, you were cautious as you continued down the dim hallway toward the mess hall. A Naboo-berry cupcake had been hidden in the kitchens since you left Coruscant, and you finally had the chance to savor it. All it would take was one nosy trooper coming off of a late shift and you would be forced to share your treat. You really didn't want to do that.

When you got to the kitchen, it was silent and empty. Perfect.

You moved quickly now, crossing the kitchen and pulling the cupcake out from its hiding spot. You were keeping an ear out for the sound of a service droid powering up, but the distinctive beeps would be difficult to miss.

Unfortunately, you were so focused on unwrapping the treat that you missed the sound of the door sliding open and closed again. It wasn’t until Commander Wolffe spoke that you realized you weren’t alone.

“I didn’t think anyone else was awake,” he said gruffly.

You whipped around, careful to keep the cupcake behind your back as you faced the stern commander with his intimidating brown-and-silver stare. It didn’t help that he was still wearing his immaculately-painted armor, and he cut an impressive figure. 

“Uh… yeah. I couldn’t sleep,” you stammered. “I thought I’d come here for a drink of water. Thought that might help.”

He raised a brow. “You’re nowhere near the water dispensers,” he explained slowly, as if you were a complete idiot. To him, it must have seemed that way.

With an awkward chuckle, you said, “Right. So what are you doing here?”

Wolffe stared at you for a long moment before dismissing your behavior as a quirk of your personality and moved away, shaking his head. You cursed inwardly. The commander had never really warmed up to you the way the other Wolfpack troopers had. He wasn’t rude - which was saying something, considering how little he cared about the feelings of others - but he didn’t go out of his way to be affectionate, either.

He walked toward the large cabinets lining one wall and tossed the answer to your question over his shoulder. “I’m hungry. Thought I’d stop in here to grab something before I go to my bunk.”

You watched, fascinated, as he dug through one of the side cabinets. He surfaced with a box of protein bars in his hands, then stripped off his gloves and dug through the box. Abruptly, he stopped moving and stared at you searchingly. Just as you were beginning to get nervous, he held one of the bars out to you. 

“Do you want one?”

It was kind of him to offer. Clearly, he had hidden the protein bars like a treat for later, just as you had done with the cupcake, and you could guess why: the bars weren’t the standard-issue unsweetened, unflavored ones favored by the GAR. Instead, they were supposed to taste like jogan fruit. They would have been confiscated in a heartbeat, though they were not remotely as unhealthy as the cupcake you were still hiding behind your back. 

You looked from the protein bar to Wolffe’s face and smiled, shaking your head just a bit. “No, but thank you for the offer. Very kind of you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully. “You might not be able to sleep because you’re hungry. This could help. Plus, when you’re in the mood for something sweet-” 

Wolffe cut himself off and you watched in mixed awe and horror as he lifted his head and sniffed. He glanced around in bewilderment, took a step in your direction, and sniffed again. 

Blast! you thought frantically, trying to silently close the container behind your back. It was no use. As soon as you had moved, Wolffe had locked his eyes on you. “What do you have?”

“Nothing,” you answered quickly. Too quickly. 

Since he was a fully trained clone commander and you were… well, you… he got around you in a matter of seconds, gently sweeping you aside with almost no effort on his part. 

"A cupcake?" Wolffe asked, narrowing his eyes at the pastry sitting innocently on the counter. 

"Yeah, it probably won't be very good," you hedged, grabbing at it.

Wolffe lightly smacked your hand away and picked up the cupcake, considering it carefully as he rotated it back and forth. “Well, if it won’t be very good, I shouldn’t let you eat it. As your friend, I agree to get rid of it for you.”

“We aren’t friends,” you told him bluntly. 

Wolffe pretended to be offended for half a second before changing the game. “In that case, I’m going to charge you an inspection fee of one bite.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You want a bite of the cupcake? What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll call some of the other troopers in to inspect it,” he replied easily.

You fought a shudder. If any of the troopers stepped into the kitchen, you would never get a single Naboo-berry from the treat. Faced with a lack of options, you crossed your arms and sullenly agreed. “Just one bite, though.”

“I would never even consider changing the terms of our deal,” Wolffe assured.

He unhinged his jaw. Well, okay, not really, but there was no other way he could have taken such a massive bite from the cupcake. When he handed you the disappointing half that still remained, you gaped up at him.

“That was the biggest bite I’ve ever seen!”

“You never specified the size of the bite I was supposed to take,” Wolffe told you when he had finally finished chewing - a process that required a full minute, a pleased groan, and much smacking of lips. “I took a fair amount.”

“It’s half-gone!” you argued, looking at the cupcake in dismay. 

“There are two of us,” he reasoned. “Besides, if you had just agreed that we’re friends, I would have taken a smaller inspection fee.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you sighed, rolling your eyes in an attempt to fight the grin that was threatening to sprout on your face. 

“And you have good taste in baked treats, kid,” he complimented, ruffling your hair before you could slap his hand away. “Goodnight.”

“I’m eating all of your protein bars!” you called childishly after him. Wolffe’s laughter was the only response you got, and you ate the remaining half of your cupcake in peace.

---

Does the Star Wars universe have cupcakes? Are there such things as Naboo-berries? Not sure, but they’re fun to write about!

#star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #fic #Commander Wolffe #reader #no description reader #gender-neutral reader #sweets #late-night snacks #cupcake #berry #i take requests #please reblog

[derkastellan]

Review: Tales from the Loop, Part 1

OrSo, we’re two sessions in playing Tales from the Loop, the role-playing game set in an alternate 1980s’ Sweden. All in all a pleasant experience so far and an easy game to get into with comparatively minor flaws. We made characters and played the first scenario out of the four-scenario/four-season mini-campaign detailed in the main book, “Summerbreak and Killer Birds”.

Getting in character

First session was mostly character building. I was hoping for a swift run because it all looked extremely straight-forward, most of the time choosing a thing or two out of lists of two or three. Attributes and skill scores are rapidly distributed and things like age and name were settled quick...

Things you pick or make up are...

a Problem: A day-to-day-life trouble that dominates your life.

a Drive: Your motivation, especially why you'd want to go on adventures.

a Pride: What makes you special and stand out. Helps occasionally.

an Anchor: A person that makes you feel safe and understood. Refuge.

NPC relationships: People in the setting you have links to.

Each class (here called Type) has its own two or three suggestions for each item “or make up on your own”. Fair enough! After all, you should be able to relate to your character and its problems, people in their life, drives, etc.

Only... Though people could relate to their Type there was still a need to scavenge the lists of the others. Most of the items are suggestive and open enough. But a master list long at least double as long as the individual items of the Types combined would have been more useful. The Type descriptions give the impression you can pick fast (and some people might) but this is the part where you can really get bogged down... 

Not that I mind, really! I’d rather flesh out the details of a kid worth playing with the person stuck with it than fiddle with lots of scores and mechanical fiddling, especially since it often means helping someone make a choice who plays a system for the first time while having only a rough idea what their scores will amount to.

Rules 

Frankly, Tales from the Loop shines strongly in this regard. Its rules chapter is full of examples, short, and elegant. Always good to have a simple resolution mechanic:

Add skill and attribute score. 

Apply any bonus for items, help, or situation.

Roll as many d6.

All dice which show sixes are successes

Most tests pass with 1 success, some need 2, nigh-impossible requires 3 successes. Success above the required minimum buys additional effects. Most effects are suggested already in the skill descriptions.

But the shiny bit, the bit I appreciate the most, is a table showing how likely you are to succeed with how many dice. I’d rather tell my players the probability of success than having them guess. I’d guess badly myself if prompted when leaving the world of d20. If you want for example to have a fifty-fifty chance of making it you need 4 dice, 80% needs 9... So, a handy table!

And coming back to character creation I can tell players how their chance of success will be given the scores they put down, making an informed decision much easier.

The rules fit on 8 pages.

Introducing the Kids

Every mystery starts with scenes updating us about the everyday lives of kids. According to the advice in the books I let the players chose their scenes and played the scenes with them:

Making dinner for the family while the alcoholic dad sits by because mom is too sick to get up.

Getting into a fight because of being taunted by someone about a boy who has a crush on her.

Finding a sack with abandoned kittens by roadside and hiding them with mom from the estranged dad.

Coming late for dinner to find mom home alone again, smoking like a chimney stack, and querying the boy about his teammates’ dads.

I was quite pleased with how it turned out but hope to stay people more away from their family situations given that the group is 12 to 14 and will be 13 to 14 in the next session. 

I feel that there is a chance wasted here to set up rival kids, friends, crushes, etc in the character creation. The NPCs suggested are adventure hooks, not a real source of character play. It’s basically left to the GM to build this part during the “Questions” phase of making the Kids. 

A first mystery

The initial mystery from the four-adventure campaign played well enough. Problems arose around some minor details and the mechanics. A few spoilers follow after the page break, but only for the first adventure contained in the book and not other parts of the mini campaign.

So, it’s about stopping a scourge of birds made more intelligent and aggressive. I loved the illustration - blue tits sitting on mummified corpses and what not - that basically had nothing to do with the adventure... which was a bit disappointing.

So, two rogue scientists implant microchips into the brains of birds, enhancing them in unexpected ways. There’s a flock of increasingly aggressive and territorial birds. And the pigeons start... to talk. It works in an 80s’ story kind of way, cool stuff.

The players follow clues and find out more about what is doing it and end up stopping the whole thing. Some of the scenes set in the book do not connect directly to other scenes or yield little the players do not already know but they work to increase the mood considerably if you let them. 

Example: By the time the kids arrive at the ornithologist, they probably already know a lot. The thing here is that many things they can easily learn here don’t add to their knowledge (= “bird don’t behave like that”, duh). You can just reinforce what they know in many ways.

All the lonely people

But beyond that, NPCs behave in contradictory ways... The ornithologist kind of locks himself in his house, trying to kill his own birds. But before that he collects lots of useful information - the so-called recluse knows that a certain expert moved out of his house in a neighboring village, for example. He is like a collector of exposition, all done neatly off-screen, and after having done what is required to him, he goes to the state the players find him, that ensures he has no further hand in the adventure.

Similarly, Gunnar’s niece Majsan cycles around the island, observing the birds (so that players trip over her) but simultaneously has to hide from spying neighbors that suspect her of squatting. She is concerned about the birds and Gunnar is her uncle but she will not accompany the players to the showdown that involves both...

Another minor gripe is that there are two mentally disturbed characters in the adventure, Gunnar and Mats. Two out of three NPCs is a bit much. 

It’s also not convincing that Gunnar gets locked into the final location. Given his remaining supplies at the end of the adventure this would either eventually amount to murder by starving him or there must be more ways to leave (opening windows, a service hatch, etc). I can believe he’s too obsessed to leave, no problem. But I think he could, right?

Don’t call it combat

Another problem I found is the mechanics for showdowns. These are essentially light-weight combat rules. Players need to score a certain amount of successes within a limited number of self-chosen scenes. (Of course these scenes can be chases, ambushes, any kind, which is great!)

The goal is usually to achieve 2 or 3 successes per kid. A very strict reading of what little is written in that tight little section says each players gets one roll (and Things from the Flood seems to corroborate that) and scene to play it out in. I must admit I did not understand the mechanic well but also found it a poor fit for the situation, so I hope to put it to better use in the 2nd showdown. I simply went with the logic of the scene and players who played on the fact that one kid was the nephew of Gunnar’s love interest.

The mechanic, however, foresees that the kids make a plan but this can be safely ignored in this showdown because the kids don’t know the layout of the ship and about the presence and state of Gunnar, etc. You need information to make a plan! The 2nd adventure seems better in this regard. This first showdown would best be framed with each scene set in response to what they learn after they’re in. Still, the setup of this showdown is likely to put the kids in an extremely favorable position, narrative-wise. It’s not unreasonable to be able to lock themselves in the ship, keep the birds out, and beat up both Gunnar and the machine, for example. What my players did, however, left them on the good side of the mad scientist and made him a recurring character that lead out of a 2nd adventure minor plot hole (or more like plot lag).

Regarding the number of successes... even when engaged in some of their key skills, players often missed rolling a single six if at all any. Given that they need 2 or 3 sixes in each showdown I read so far, some conditions apply if they players actually want to win:

Ideally they get some bonus dice through equipment.

Sadly, their iconic items were almost all horribly out of place for this finale except for a sturdy leather jacket.

Save exactly one luck till the end. (You cannot re-roll twice.)

Have as many conditions available to still check to trade for successes if you need to push for a compromise.

Have as little conditions checked yet to roll high.

In other words, pushing for the finale when being not in a good shape is a bad idea. Having a moment with another kid or even your anchor if possible is a great idea, like encouraging a scared kid or calming an upset one. Being able to push a roll and re-roll fails with Luck seems vital here. The likelihood of having to push for a compromise is still rather high for the tougher threat levels requiring 3 or 4 sixes per player.

An extended example would have been most welcome here. Neither Tales from the Loop nor Things from the Flood contain one for this key mechanic. I do not speak from experience here, but it is still mechanically simple enough to reason it out.

The good thing here is you can pick your role and play to your strengths. The Jock fends off birds, for example. You get to maximize your dice and if I prepare in any way, that should help a lot.

I was pleased, however, with playing the end in a way that did not force an Extended Trouble on this scene.

Conclusion

Tales from the Loop is fun to play. The mechanics do not get in the way. Stories are simple, the Sweden of the 80s makes a cool setting. Unless you really push for short scenes the whole “play one mystery in one session” thing probably won’t work out. Knowing my group I didn’t expect it to.

According to the rules-as-written Luck points don’t seem to re-generate, but I like rewards for cool and engaged play. Kids that go out of their way to do right by others need some reward, right? Good karma.

The terse description of Extended Trouble leaves it to the GM to hash out what the consequences of these rules are. This is something I abhor in most RPGs: They give you the rules and at best they explain them well. But they don’t explain how they play together. In The One Ring I had to figure out the fine-tuned interplay between Hope and Fellowship in order to tell them to my players. It would help if some hints were given to a winning strategy when dealing with rules. Tales from the Loop goes part of the way by at least telling you how likely you are to score any success (but omits the tables for more successes...).

In a game in many ways as simple as this one there should have been room for going this extra mile. I assume play-testers and authors gain this understanding and should try to transmit it to GMs in the least and also players at best.

Still, I’m three sessions in and I love the characters and setting. Will write more about the next session soon.

#tales from the loop #role playing #rpg #pen & paper

[somebodysumbuddy]

Monstertober, Day 6

Following @snejkha ‘s Monstober prompt list.

Day 6: kitsune, d20 roll; limb

Content warning: no gory description but mentions missing/removed limb and some blood.

You were out on a walk when you heard a cry. It was half between a baby’s cry and the yelp of a pained animal. You stopped unsure whether to go towards it or turn and make your way safely back home. Even a hurt animal was a dangerous one. It only took until another cry from the animal, this one stronger and longer. The high pitched squeal raised the hair on the back of your neck. The tail end of the let off in a panting sort of laugh and you identified it immediately. It was a fox. You still hesitated a couple of seconds before purposefully heading towards the pond, away from your intended trail.

More of the fox’s cries lead you right to where they lay, close to the muddy bank of the pond. It seemed to have dragged it’s self away from the water’s edge, its body was caked in rust colored mud. You made your way closer as carefully and quietly as you could. It didn’t wouldn’t have mattered anyhow, the creature was desperately focused on licking itself clean, only lifting their head to intermittently let loose a n ear-splitting scream. You were only two feet away, practically bent over it when you were able to make out why.

It’s head was tucked against their left shoulder as they aggressively licked at where their arm should be. Instead only a couple inches of their limb remained. They were licking at the violently fresh wound. You bit down on your tongue to keep from grasping in shock. Tears left your eyes the fox once again cried out in pain. It had to be agonizing. You didn’t know how recent this injury was but if they carried on like this they would only succeed in rubbing it raw until they bled out.

You moved around it, trying to put yourself within it’s line of sight without getting any closer. When they finally spotted you another cry left them before it turned into a growl. They tried to jump back, forgetting the lost limb. A flurry of desperate movement ignited as it tried to stand again and again jumping back every time it’s chest hit the ground.

Horrified you scurried back a couple steps, a sob caught in your throat at the sight of them repeatedly landing on the raw flesh. “Stop stop stop! Please stop I just want to help you please stop, you’re hurting yourself worse!” You wanted to scream but the pleads left you in soft tones, trying not to frighten the animal more.

A tinge of shock went through you as they froze at your words, looking up at your from their position on the ground. Their eyes flicked over your face before locking eyes with you. You remembered a passage from your school days, about how different shifters were native to different regions. Foxes were one of the groups discussed. Hope sparked in you.

“Let me help you, please, I live a couple minutes away, I promise you’ll be safe.” You spoke low and clear keeping eye contact. When they finally made to drag themselves towards you you rushed closer, bending to pick up the little animal in your arms. Their cry of pain was deafening, so close to your ear. You almost ran back to your house, holding the fox on it’s back like a baby, trying to keep from causing them more pain.

Setting them down on the kitchen table, you leaned over and unlatched a small chest already sitting on the counter. You paused a moment as you drew out a vial of opium. You didn’t know what the proportional dose would be. If you asked them to shift, if they even could shift, it could cause irreversible nerve damage. You would start small, only one drop. You approached the panting fox, holding up the vial. “This needs to go under your tongue.”

Hoping that would provide them some relief from pain you quickly got to work pulling disinfectants, herbs, salves and clean linens onto the nearby counter before setting a pot of water to boil. After washing your hands thoroughly, you turned back to the fox, noting it looked a touch calmer.

“Alright, lets begin.”

After patching them up, and giving them another drop for the pain you searched your small house until you found an appropriate sized basket. With a pillow on the bottom you draped towel over it before helping the drowsy, battered fox inside. You softly pet their head with a single finger as they drifted to sleep.

It took two weeks before you mentioned that it might be safe enough for him- he had made it every obvious he was male- to try and shift. You didn’t know what to expect but you were excited to be able to fully converse with your friend. You had made due with very specific yes(bark) or no(whine) questions, and had even gotten alarmingly good at deciphering his long winded cackle and scream filled rants, but you would be grateful to have real answers to your questions.

You recommended they lay on the bed since the shift could leave them disoriented. Following along as they hopped over to your bedroom, you gave them a quick warning before picking them up and placing them right in the middle.

He was very familiar with it, he had only slept in the basket three nights, after that he had screamed his insistence that he also wanted to sleep on the bed. They slept curled up on the opposite pillow every night, though recently you’d wake with him coiled tightly right under your chin.

Now you gave him some privacy under the guise of needing to clean up after dinner. After a handful of minutes filled with silence you made your way back to your bedroom, entering with a soft ‘hello’. A man lay on the bed, he had pulled on the shorts and shirt he’d picked out on your past trip to the market. You’d taken him in the basket and had to evade everyone’s questions about your ‘new pet’.

He sat up as you got closer. He was striking and beautiful with sharp features and a flawless complexation. Your eyes were drawn to the top of his head where two familiar ears perched. He was holding what was left of his left arm, feeling all around it before dropping his hand and sighing deeply. Then, holding your gaze he slowly smiled. You returned his smile with your own at the sight of his teeth with still clearly visible canines.

“Hi. Thank you.” His voice was deep and smooth.

“You’re welcome, I’m glad I heard you by the pond.” He nodded solemnly before his face broke out into a wide grin.

“I would like to request to be carried in a basket everywhere we go.”

“Everywhere we go?” You repeated for clarification. “How long is there going to be a ‘we’?”

“Forever long. I won’t leave your side until I repay every kindness you’ve shown me.”

#monstertober #monsterlover #monsterfucker #kitsune #monstober #I'm at my friends house with negative reception. I don't know if this will post

[wanderinginksplot]

Prompt: Tup + Teaching Reader to Fix a Mechanical Object

Another fluffy fic because I am WEAK. Also, quick reminder that I got the character and prompt pairings by rolling a pair of d20s, so please don’t roast me about Tup not having any interest in mechanics or electronics. I just write what I can think of. (Evidence can be found on my masterlist.)

Anyway, enjoy!

---

“And that is how you fix a LAATi’s main motivator drive,” Tup finished, tapping at the freshly-repaired mechanism. The ring of his gauntlet striking against the hollow metal made you wince. You didn’t know much about mechanical things and, from everything he had just shown you, neither did Tup.

“Very impressive. Do you want to get something to eat” you asked, steering him gently toward the mess hall at GAR’s headquarters. While you walked, you made a mental note to send one of the engineers to check out the motivator drive before the ship was cleared for use. “Where did you learn to do that?”

As you both stepped into the mess, Tup scrubbed a hand over his head, the movement dislodging his hair from where it had been confined in a neatly-tied bun. “Err… I mostly taught myself. You don’t get many chances to cross-train out here and I never got the chance to be in the mechanic corps. I was marked for infantry since I was decanted.”

Well, there was certainly a lot to unpack in that, but now you didn’t feel like you could order him not to fix anything in the future. “Do you want to learn about mechanical processes? It may not be how you want to spend your leave, but I could get you a shadow day or two with some of the mechanics.”

“Really?” Tup asked excitedly, piling his tray with more food than you had ever seen anyone eat in one sitting. These troopers and their enhanced metabolisms.

You shrugged a bit at his question. You oversaw most of the GAR’s administrative tasks on Coruscant, but you were still low-level enough that you knew a few of the mechanics. They liked to chat for a bit when you gave them the lists of work orders for ships that needed repairs. “Probably?”

“I would love to do that!” Tup grinned, and the conversation paused as you both took your trays to a table and sat down facing each other. 

You ate in silence for a few minutes before Tup gave a small, almost self-deprecating smile. “You might want to warn the mechanics that I mostly work on electronics. I really don’t know much about mechanical stuff, but I want to learn.”

“Electronics?” you asked, perking up a bit as you stirred at the soup you had chosen for some reason. It was always awful, but you got it every now and then to see if it had magically improved. “Do you think you could fix my comlink?” 

He seemed bewildered by your question, the blinking he did accentuating both his long lashes and the teardrop tattooed under one eye.

Your face heated a bit. “Sorry, that was a weird thing to ask. It’s just been shorting out lately and repair shops charge so much-”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Tup hurried to say. “I know a bit about comlinks from when I’ve had to fix them in the field. I’d be happy to take a look. Do you have it here?”

“It’s up in my office, actually,” you explained. "Maybe I could run up and get it?"

"I'll come with you," Tup offered, standing from the table only a moment after you did. 

"No, you should stay here and eat," you told him. “I’ll be right back.”

"I'm already done," he said, taking a bit of a piece of fruit. Startled, you glanced down at his plate. Though it had been absolutely piled with food only minutes before, it was now empty. The fruit Tup was holding was indeed the last thing left of his meal.

While you were staring at the lack of food on his tray, Tup had been eyeing your barely touched soup. “Do you want to bring that with you? I’m sure they’d have a container for it if you want…”

“Nah, it’s terrible,” you said with a laugh.

“It always is,” he agreed, smiling so widely that his eyes crinkled at the corners. It warmed your heart to see Tup happy and you were a little sad when he turned toward the administrative offices. 

You followed Tup, amused to see where you would end up, but he led the way unerringly to your office.

“How did you know where this was?” you asked. “You’ve never been here.”

“Oh, uh… Well, you know troopers,” he hedged. “We all talk, share information. Some of the guys have been here, so I know where it is.”

You frowned, trying to think of a single time when a trooper had visited the admin offices, but nothing came to mind. Too bad, because it certainly would have made your day more interesting. “When did-?”

“Now, where is that comlink?” Tup asked loudly. 

“Uh, right over here…” you said slowly, pulling open a drawer and bringing out the malfunctioning piece of equipment. “It’s just having trouble making outgoing calls.”

He hummed a bit, turning the comlink over to study it, then shrugged. “Easy enough to test. Let me put in my frequency and try to make a call…”

Tup typed in a code and his wrist comlink chimed right away. One of his eyebrows shot up and your face heated again. It wasn't as if you had made up a broken comlink in order to get Tup's frequency, but it probably looked that way to him. 

"Let's try one more time," he suggested. You nodded, grateful that he wasn't going to start teasing you - at least, not immediately.

You didn't think you had ever hoped for a comlink malfunction before, but stars, it would really be great if Tup could see the problem with his own eyes.

He typed in the number for his frequency again, hit the button to connect, and nothing happened. At least, nothing happened for a split second before his comlink beeped at him. 

Tup grinned and you braced for a teasing comment, but he had stifled the expression only a half-second later. “Well, that’s strange. Maybe it’s fixed?”

You frowned at the odd behavior. Most of the troopers never hesitated to mercilessly tease someone, and Tup was no exception. You had seen him absolutely roast Hardcase about his new relationship with an administrator aboard the Resolute only last week, so the fact that he wasn’t teasing you was a cause for concern. 

“It really is broken, though,” you insisted.

“I believe you,” Tup said quietly, without a trace of the grin he had worn only a moment before. “You have no reason to lie. But I’ll tell you what: you have my frequency now. If it keeps giving you problems, use a working comlink to call me. If I’m planetside, I’ll come take another look at it, okay?”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you,” you agreed, still on-edge. You never thought you would have wanted to be teased, but this was strange behavior.

“And…” he cleared his throat. “And if you ever want to call for another reason, even if you just want to talk, you can. I’ll pick up. I’d be glad to listen to you.”

You stared at him, knowing your eyes were bulging like those of a particularly deranged mynock. “You would?”

“Of course I would,” Tup’s blush at the admission showed even through the smooth brown of his skin. “I always like talking to you."

"I like talking to you, too," you replied, feeling a bit dizzy at the conversational turn. "You're probably my favorite person to spend time with."

"Really?" Tup asked, perking up a bit. "Then… do you want to come to 79s with me? Maybe tomorrow night?"

"79s is a dance club..?" you guessed slowly, trying to remember what little you knew about the place. You weren't really the clubbing type, but for Tup? You would gladly try to be.

"Yeah! A lot of us clones go there. Some guys won't go anywhere else," Tup explained. "Do you want to come? No pressure…"

"Of course I will!" you insisted. "Are you sure none of your friends will mind me tagging along?" 

Tup blushed a bit, rubbing at the back of his neck. "There, uh, won't be any other guys there. It'll just be you and me. Like a… a date. It is a date. I mean, will you go on a date with me?"

You had been putting so much effort into following Tup's train of thought that you stared at him for a long moment after he had finished speaking. He stared back, dark eyes intense, and you snapped back to the moment. 

"Yes!" you agreed loudly, winced, and corrected yourself to a more natural volume. "Yes. Tup, I would absolutely love to go on a date with you."

Tup looked so thrilled that you forgot to apologize for shouting in his face a moment before. "That's great! I'll come get you here- oh, I don't have a speeder. I can meet you here and we'll go together? Or I could just meet you there, or-"

"Let's meet here," you offered. 

"That seems easiest," Tup agreed gratefully. With a shy smile, he said, “Thank you for agreeing to go. I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time.”

“I would have said yes months ago,” you admitted before you could censor yourself, and felt your face grow hot.

Tup’s eyebrows shot up his forehead at that, then a wicked smile spread across his face as his eyes heated. In a voice that was a full octave lower than you were used to hearing from him, he murmured, “Sounds like we need to make up for some lost time, then.”

You nodded breathlessly. You didn’t know where that sudden wave of confidence had come from, but it was a good look on him. 

“Meet you at seven?” he asked.

“How about six,” you suggested.

He grinned and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “It’s a date.”

You watched him leave your office, an unfamiliar swagger in his step. You shook your head and smiled, cheek still warm from his lips. Six couldn’t come fast enough.

---

A/N - cocky Tup is the best Tup. 

#star wars the clone wars #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fic #i take requests #clone trooper tup #gender-neutral reader #no description reader #shy tup #then really confident tup #please reblog