The Mods of LifeAftr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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aftr_stories2017-12-19 08:57 pm
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in aftr_stories2017-12-19 08:57 pm
Entry tags:
- ;event: storytelling,
- dear evan hansen: connor murphy,
- final fantasy xv: ardyn izunia,
- final fantasy xv: ignis scientia,
- fragile dreams: ren,
- hyper light drifter: the drifter,
- marble hornets: tim wright,
- mass effect: commander shepard,
- mushi-shi: ginko,
- original: chip abaroa,
- osomatsu-san: ichimatsu matsuno,
- pokemon sun & moon: guzma,
- pokemon sun & moon: luna,
- voltron: keith kogane,
- ✖ camp camp: max,
- ✖ captive prince: damianos,
- ✖ captive prince: laurent,
- ✖ castlevania: soma cruz,
- ✖ dangan ronpa: hinata hajime,
- ✖ disney: mickey mouse,
- ✖ ffxiv: tataru taru,
- ✖ ffxv: noctis lucis caelum,
- ✖ ffxv: prompto argentum,
- ✖ fragile dreams: crow,
- ✖ fullmetal alchemist: edward elric,
- ✖ kingdom hearts: xion,
- ✖ lady trent: isabella camherst,
- ✖ marble hornets: brian thomas,
- ✖ marvel 616: wade wilson,
- ✖ next to normal: gabe goodman,
- ✖ off: the batter,
- ✖ off: zacharie,
- ✖ okami: amaterasu,
- ✖ original: kyouko kougami,
- ✖ original: mira,
- ✖ original: yuka ichijou,
- ✖ overwatch: jesse mccree,
- ✖ pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- ✖ persona 5: akira kurusu,
- ✖ persona 5: goro akechi,
- ✖ shadowrun: gobbet,
- ✖ soul eater: maka albarn,
- ✖ tales of the abyss: asch the bloody,
- ✖ the adventure zone: lup,
- ✖ the adventure zone: taako,
- ✖ the order of the stick: roy greenhilt,
- ✖ undertale: asriel dreemurr,
- ✖ undertale: chara dreemurr,
- ✖ undertale: frisk,
- ✖ undertale: muffet,
- ✖ world of warcraft: thereth,
- ✖ yuki yuna is a hero: karin myoshi
[MU] - DECEMBER STORYTELLING / MEMORY SHARE
Something is wrong.
This may not very well be obvious, at first. The Storyteller is not present to put forth yet another diatribe, informative or apologetic, and the backdrop of guttering flame and sandy campfire is as present as ever...albeit briefly.
Those who tell their stories will start to notice something...odd taking place. Indeed, no matter how they intend to begin their tale, the land of Mu will immediately start to warp to accommodate it, or something utterly unlike it, until storytellers and listeners alike may find themselves in an exact recreation of a seemingly random memory, in the most stark and painstaking of detail. There is no altering the memory, nor is there any preventing it once it's begun to play - you will simply have to witness memories that are not your own this go around.
Furthermore, stories that take place in worlds other than LifeAftr will be, frankly, inevitable. Those memories, too, will be recreated, to be relived by the teller and lived by the listener.
It is time, once more, for you to tell a story...with a slight twist! This is, in fact, our first player plot, as provided by Dragon! The initial setting will be familiar for oldcomers, and newcomers will recognize it from the introduction they received in their dreams.
Yet for this Storytelling only, people can imagine whatever stories they wish, from both their homes and their time on LifeAftr, as long as they don't mind the fact that others will be reliving those stories in the form of an impromptu memory share.
Even those who prefer not to voice their stories aloud are not safe this time around. If the memory is recalled in essence, Mu will shift to accommodate it in full.
There is, however, a benefit to this: those who venture memories to be relived will receive both a befuddled apology from the Storyteller, who will assert that this was most definitely not meant to happen (they're the Storyteller, not the Rememberer!), as well as a tired promise that the relived memories will be worth two offerings each, as if in compensation.
Not that it counts for much, probably.
This may not very well be obvious, at first. The Storyteller is not present to put forth yet another diatribe, informative or apologetic, and the backdrop of guttering flame and sandy campfire is as present as ever...albeit briefly.
Those who tell their stories will start to notice something...odd taking place. Indeed, no matter how they intend to begin their tale, the land of Mu will immediately start to warp to accommodate it, or something utterly unlike it, until storytellers and listeners alike may find themselves in an exact recreation of a seemingly random memory, in the most stark and painstaking of detail. There is no altering the memory, nor is there any preventing it once it's begun to play - you will simply have to witness memories that are not your own this go around.
Furthermore, stories that take place in worlds other than LifeAftr will be, frankly, inevitable. Those memories, too, will be recreated, to be relived by the teller and lived by the listener.
It is time, once more, for you to tell a story...with a slight twist! This is, in fact, our first player plot, as provided by Dragon! The initial setting will be familiar for oldcomers, and newcomers will recognize it from the introduction they received in their dreams.
Yet for this Storytelling only, people can imagine whatever stories they wish, from both their homes and their time on LifeAftr, as long as they don't mind the fact that others will be reliving those stories in the form of an impromptu memory share.
Even those who prefer not to voice their stories aloud are not safe this time around. If the memory is recalled in essence, Mu will shift to accommodate it in full.
There is, however, a benefit to this: those who venture memories to be relived will receive both a befuddled apology from the Storyteller, who will assert that this was most definitely not meant to happen (they're the Storyteller, not the Rememberer!), as well as a tired promise that the relived memories will be worth two offerings each, as if in compensation.
Not that it counts for much, probably.
1A
Roy’s surprise lasted maybe a second before the anger surged up. Thog. Half-orc barbarian. Member of the Linear Guild, the ridiculous group of ‘evil opposites’ set up by Elan’s twin brother Nale. Villains of the highest order. Ruthless and cold. Thog, for all his friendly demeanor and seeming childlike innocence, had slaughtered innocents for fun and delighted in the harm and suffering of others.
“Give me the sword,” he said quite calmly, extending his hand out to the arena guard who stood near him. “Then run.”
Some people might look down on Roy for striking an unprepared foe. They might call it dishonorable or cowardice. But as he swung his weapon at Thog’s head, Roy felt no regrets whatsoever. Neither of them could take down the other even with their strongest hit. Thog was simply too strong and tough for that. So Roy aimed his first shot with care, putting little of his strength into it. With this ordinary sword, he didn’t have quite the accuracy his grandfather’s sword gave him, so instead he focused entirely on making sure he understood just how difficult a time he’d have striking Thog.
To his complete lack of surprise, the blade clonked off of Thog’s skull without so much as leaving a scratch. Damn Damage Reduction.
His speech interrupted, Thog tumbled to the ground, dropping heavily on his butt in mid-turn. He seemed not at all surprised or bothered by this sudden turn of events – to the contrary, his exclamation of “talky man!” sounded downright joyous.
“Hello, Thog.” Roy tried to put every ounce of contempt he felt, every drop of condemnation, every iota of cold fury coursing through his body, into those two arctic words. Unsurprisingly, Thog didn’t even notice.
“thog will always treasure thog’s adventure with talky-man.” Thog scooped up his axe with a smile. “it featured non-traditional panel layout.”
Roy’s sword came an inch from gutting him as he stood up – he’d never been all that good at Attacks of Opportunity, thanks to his dad interrupting his lessons, and worse, the raw anger that gave him strength was also spoiling his aim. “Do you remember the earth fairy you killed right under my nose?”
“yes.” Thog darted backwards as if Roy’s strike were no more than perfunctory. “thog remember thog had to power attack to cut through—”
“Shut up! Did you know that she was one of my girlfriend’s best friends here on this plane?” Roy ducked under Thog’s swing, noting that the half-orc had barely even tried to hit him.
“no, but thog thankful for update on talky-man’s relationship status.”
The worst part was, Thog actually meant that. Which incensed Roy all the more, as he straightened up to catch Thog’s axe with his sword. He ought to be just cutting the barbarian down, but he couldn’t help but snarl, “How about all the cops you killed in Cliffport? Do you remember them?”
Not bothering to break the pin, Thog seemed perfectly willing to continue what he probably considered to be pre-fight banter. “thog says, “fudge the police!”
Roy pressed harder against Thog’s axe, though the half-orc met his strength almost casually. “What about the dozens of citizens you killed to lure them there?”
A brief look of confusion passed over Thog’s face. “actually, thog hazy on that. did thog kill them off-panel?”
“Hazy’??” Roy yanked his sword away, every muscle of his body tightening. He’d been angry before, but now he was furious. Both his hands gripped the sword’s hilt so tightly he was practically squeezing it into their shape. “Bad news for you, then. Bad guys not remembering their evil deeds is something of a pet peeve of mine.”
Pure delight shone on Thog’s face. “really? do you walk it and groom it and feed—
“A PEEVE,” Roy roared, lunging forward, “IS NOT A TYPE OF DOG!!
“”shucks.”
He could’ve ended it right there, he wanted to end it right there. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed to his growing alarm that his friends were missing – and out of pure reflex, spoke aloud. “Wait—where did Haley and the others go?
Thog burst into laughter, hard enough that he had to let go of his axe to hold his stomach, and that just made Roy all the more frustrated. “Damn it, it's Nale, isn't it?” he said, even as he tried to take advantage of Thog’s distraction. The barbarian just dodged, though. “This is another crazy ambush scenario.”
“huh? thog not know, thog not see nale in long time. thog just thinking of funny joke thog learned from guards.” Thog almost casually swung his axe at Roy, who shifted to let the pauldrons on his ridiculous slave outfit take the blow. Why his shoulders had more coverage and protection than his crotch, he could only begin to speculate. “what's black and white and read all over?”
“A newspaper,” Roy said, keenly away of how much he’d regret answering.
“a zebrafolk who talks back! haw haw haw haw!”
A pause, exactly the length of a beat panel, fell over the battlefield, broken only by Thog’s chortling and Roy’s confusion. By now he was so angry he couldn’t get any angrier, even with a casual torture reference thrown right in.
Apparently laughing himself out, Thog abruptly hefted his axe with both hands. “'nuff comedy. thog now crush talky-man! thog unstoppable, like sink with broken drain.”
“That would be unstopperable, you idiot.”
“that, too.” Just like that, Thog was done playing around – he drove his axe into Roy’s stomach before the fighter could even get his defense up. All Roy could do was grunt as the steel cut into his skin, the huge axe’s curve nearly catching him in the face as well before his tensed muscles managed to stop it. The pain focused Roy, reminding him that however much talking might be involved in this battle, it was still a battle.
And he was the superior opponent, damn it.
“I don't care how strong you are, thug,” Roy said, planting his left foot solidly.
“thog's name is thog.”
Shifting his weight forward, Roy swung his sword forward. Thog again tried to dodge – but this time, the sword scored a long line across his face. “I didn't misspeak,” Roy said with a smirk, bringing his weapon back. “You're all brawn, no brains, while I have both.”
To Roy’s surprise, the taunt landed in a completely different way than he expected. Rather than snarling and making some stupid comment that Roy could exploit, Thog flinched back, one hand coming up to his cheek in horror. “oh no! does talky-man have prestige class that lets him add intelligence bonus to attacks?”
“Uh, no,” Roy said, wondering where he’d went wrong. “But—“
“damage rolls?”
“No.”
”armor class? saving throws?”
Did Thog even HAVE a single class feature that could provoke a saving throw out of Roy – never mind, that way likes madness. “No, but that's not the point!” Maybe a saving throw against insanity, but Roy was used to Elan. Since Thog had so helpfully recoiled, Roy took advantage of the distance beneath them to build up some steam, stomping forward with his sword swinging in a blow that he hoped would put an end to Thog’s idiotic babbling once and for all.
But Thog sidestepped, and more insultingly, didn’t even appear to have thought about it. “then how talky-man use intelligence in fight with thog?” he asked, almost plaintive.
“I don't know yet, OK?! I'll figure something out, that's sort of the whole point.”
With an uncharacteristic frown, Thog let Roy recover from his overextended charge. “thog think thog smarter than talky-man anyway.”
“Are you serious??” Roy planted one foot, finally managing to come to a halt.
“sure. thog already knows how to use best ability score in a fight.”
Maybe if he’d had his armor, or hadn’t been in midturn to face Thog once more. No way to know, when Roy barely knew what hit him. One moment he’d been twisting around – the next he was on the dirt of the arena floor, head ringing from a blow to his head that would have killed a weaker man than he.
“thog elegant in thog's simplicity.”
“On the plus side,” Roy muttered, trying to use the words to focus the spinning world and push aside the throbbing pain. “I think I have less brain cells to worry about.”
Time to take this seriously.
Roy spun and launched himself into Thog, who brought his axe up in a parry, then drove one boot towards Roy’s gut. Roy twisted out of the way, then brought his sword down in a vicious blow that nearly split Thog’s sternum. The half-orc dropped his jaw in pure shock as the blow descended, but just barely managed to squirm away – and at that, his surprise vanished, replaced by delight once again. “ thog excited to be part of ultimate fight between opposites!”
“I am so sick of hearing about "evil opposites" from you people!” Roy said, yanking his sword back to the vertical to snarl at Thog. “You're not my opposite, Thog! You're just different from me! Two things need to be almost the same except for one or two factors to be opposites!”
“uh...” One of Thog’s eyebrows crept upwards in confusion. “thog was talking about greatsword vs. greataxe.”
Maybe Roy had been wrong about being more angry. “They're not opposites either!!” he said, yanking his foot back as Thog’s axe cane inches from taking it off. “You might as well say that Nale and I are opposites: Good leader, bad leader!”
“nale is good leader, right?”
Roy wasn’t even going to dignify that with an answer. “Or Sabine!” he said, naming Nale’s succubus girlfriend as he swung his sword in an awkward backhand. “She's an evil female, I'm a good male. Opposites!
“good point, thog never thought of that.” Thog caught the blade on the haft of his axe.
“NO! IT's not a good point!” Roy had his footing now, and whether because Thog’s brain was struggling to process words or simply because Roy was the better fighter, he had the advantage as well. He didn’t care which it was. “You're nothing special, Thog! You're not my equal and opposite.” He slammed his sword down again, a swift chop tha Thog had no choice but to catch on his axe’s haft once more. “I've beaten plenty of cruel and stupid goons in my time, and I'll beat down many more when I'm done with you!” He swung again. “We have nothing in common!” Before Thog could react to the sudden change, Roy whipped his sword over his head, then brought it down so hard the force of the blow lifted his feet well clear of the ground. “NOTHING!”
Thog’s axe practically exploded, splinters scattering in all directions as the sword lopped it in half. The blade continued down into Thog’s face, shearing off one tusk as it cut a deep line into the half-orc’s cheek and chin. Disasrmed and wounded, Thog fell on his ass.
And that was that. Victory was his – Thog had no weapon, and was either stunned or too stupid. Roy let out a low, relieved exhalation, suddenly keenly away of every speck of dirt grinding against his skin and the sweat trickling down his back. “I'm glad that's over. Do the refs call it now?”
Quietly and very deliberately, Thog said, “talky-man broke thog's tusk.”
All those sensations Roy had become aware of vanished once again, as that very particular phrasing struck a cold note of icy fear in his braid. “What? What did you—“
He wasn’t sure what happened next. A fireball went off directly next to his face, quite possibly – a fireball that instead of a great roar of flames, let out a great cry of, “TALKY-MAN BROKE THOG'S TUSK! For a moment, Roy was certain he was tumbling through the air – but then a grip like iron on his foot presaged the entire world spinning, and then agony as his face smashed through the stone wall of the coliseum. His body hit the ground roughly, then a boot smashed into the top of his head. Roy could hear his skull crack.
He only had once chance. As Thog stepped off him, Roy half-leaped, half-crawled for the greatsword he’d let fall – but somehow, Thog caught him before he could reach it, driving his head into the dirt once more, then kicking the sword away. Roy mentally uttered a word he didn’t dare say as he picked himself up – then did the only thing he could do. He threw a punch at Thog, putting all his strength and determination and grit into it. Maybe he couldn’t stop a raging barbarian, but damn it, he was going to try!
His fist hit Thog’s chin dead on. Thog didn’t even register it. He threw another blow, this one into the half-orc’s stomach, but he might as well have been punching stone. No, he could punch stone more effectively than this –
Thog caught his fist. And then, Roy was airborne. On some tiny level he had to appreciate the sheer power necessary to hurl him almost the entire length of the arena and still smash him through the wall on the other side. On every other level he hurt, of course. And before he could even pull himself out, the full weight of Thog slammed into him, cracking ribs and maybe his sternum, and then he was whipping through the air again, hammered into the ground just long enough for Thog to stomp on his injured chest.
Sometimes, there was nothing you could do. Sometimes, you had to swallow your pride. He couldn’t afford to be killed here. He had to survive…. “I surrender,” Roy said, barely able to speak above a whisper.
“STOP”
With a crunch, Thog yanked a section of wall free that probably weighted ten times what he did, then brought it down onto Roy’s face.
“TALKING”
1B
Thog had made it life-or-death. Now Roy had to get serious.
His fingers closed around one of the spent crossbow bolts that the guards had left behind from putting an end to earlier matches, and before Thog could get another shot in, Roy sat up and stabbed him clean through the thigh. Then he took off at a run before Thog could wrench the bolt free of his leg, scrambling past the guards who had formed lines to stop prisoner escape as he desperately struggled to catch his breath. A faint flicker of light from far up above caught his eye, and he looked up to see precisely what he’d feared: Vaarsuvius locked in arcane combat with the Linear Guild’s wizard. “Ah, crap. It really IS a crazy ambush scenario. Belkar! BELKAR! Are you down there?”
The arena’s architects had left low windows in the slave cells that opened onto the battlefield, the better for the prisoners to watch the sport they would soon be a part of. As Roy scrambled over to the one he knew well, the familiar hateful little face of Belkar Bitterleaf looked back up at him, as if this were just another Sunday. Which, honestly, it was. “Belkar, can you bust out of here on your own?”
“Does Durkon need to bathe more?” Belkar answered, because he was incapable of even answering a simple question without being a jackass.
“Then do it. The Linear Guild is attacking, probably in the lobby or just outside the arena.” How to phrase this to make Belkar do what he wanted. ”I want you to find them and kick their asses.”
Belkar scowled. “Boooorrrring. No thanks.”
Well, when Diplomacy failed, resort to Intimidate. “Belkar!”
“Oh, right, I mean, “Yes, sir, Mr. Leader, sir!” Because I’m a good team member.” Belkar rolled his eyes. Roy had no idea what had gotten into him recently, but honestly only having to snap once at him was such an upgrade Roy didn’t want to question it. “ eet me over there, or you wanna come with?”
Roy shot a glance back over his shoulder. Thog was still trying to wrestle the bolt out of his leg, his barbarian strength and damage reduction actually working against him. As he’d known from the moment Thog had bashed him, Roy knew there was only one course of action. And it really, really didn’t sound like the course of action someone who claimed to be intelligent would take. “Neither, much to the displeasure of my internal organs.” To put it mildly. Roy had to wonder at what point Cure stopped working and one needed Regenerate to repair the majority of one’s gastrointestinal tract. “Now that I know that Nale’s lackeys are attacking, I need to stay here and put on a good show for General Elan’s Daddy until they’re all beaten. I don’t want to raise a bunch of uncomfortable questions about why we’re really here by turning a simple prize fight into a brother vs. brother team grudge match right in front of his eyes. Plus…” Admitting his error to Belkar, of all people, made his pride sting all the worse, but he couldn’t deny the truth. “I think Nale might know about the Gates. If he wants to keep this under wraps from his significantly-more-competent father, I’m inclined to agree with him for once. Now go on and—NNNH!”
Shouldn’t have looked away. Thog had paused in his snarling fury long enough to pitch another massive shard of stone at him. Right into his head, too.
“Greenhilt, don’t be a fool!” Ian Starshine said, his head popping up in the window besides Belkar’s. “That half-orc is going to kill you if you stay in there!”
“Yeah, probably.” He couldn’t even muster up the energy to be indignant about what was, after all, the simple truth. He was far, far closer to death than he cared to think about – he was pretty certain one eye was going blind, and one more shot to the head would probably crack it clean open. Let alone his ribs and chest. But… “If someone has to die for this, though, I choose me.” Though after a moment of thought, he added, “Actually, I choose him, but if that’s not an option, better me than someone else. Now get going, Belkar! I’ll draw this out as long as I can.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” Belkar hopped down, and for a moment Roy thought Ian had stepped away too – but he’d just ducked down to dig up something from some hidden spot Roy couldn’t see.
“You’ve got gumption, kid, I’ll say that much,” Ian said as he came up, offering Roy what was unmistakably a magic potion. “Here—I’ve been hiding this for just such a day.
That was, honestly, pretty impressive. It wouldn’t keep him alive in the long run, but in the short – maybe it could make the difference between life and death for his friends, and keeping the Gates out of a tyrant’s clutches. “Thanks, Ian.” The magic took effect the moment the liquid touched his tongue; Roy could practically feel his body reshape itself, bones knitting, pains fading, skull twitching back together with a pop. “This ought to keep me going for a bit longer.”
“Don’t worry about the cost,” Ian said with a grin. “You can pay me later. I offer very reasonable interest rates.”
Maybe it wasn’t really funny, but Roy couldn’t help smiling nonetheless. It sounded so much like something his daughter would say. “Heh. Guess you really are Haley’s—“
Roy was abruptly reacquainted with pain as Thog plowed into him. For a mercy, or simply because he was prepared, only his head smashed through the wall instead of his entire body this time. Practically a tickle compared to the beatdown Thog had been putting on him. And Roy was done fighting fair.
He slammed the empty potion bottle into Thog’s face, directly between the eyes.
The half-orc’s roar of frustrated pain was music to Roy’s ears, as he took advantage of Thog’s agony to break into a run. “Hey, Thog, let’s play Tag. You’re “It.”
This might not be the best idea, Roy though, as chunks of rubble shot past him, but it would certainly draw it out. He’d keep his distance, force Thog to chase him, and – a boulder clipped him right in the boot, bowling his feet out from under him. So much for that plan, he thought, as he hurriedly grabbed the boulder and used it to smash the chunk of wall out of Thog’s hands right before the half-orc could bring it down on him. Both of them had the same idea at the same time, grabbing at each other so that their hands locked together. Thog leaned into the scrum, trying to force Roy back…
But Roy was done playing. Roy was done treating this as some mindless gladiatorial match. Never mind that Thog was raging, that his natural orcish strength had been augmented even more by the bloodlust coursing through his veins. Roy was done playing. He got his foot under him, pushed himself to his feet so he could stare down the other warrior, teeth clenched and fury on both their faces, while their bodies trembled with exertion and sweat poured off of them in a flood. Roy was done playing.
One little twitch, and the balance shifted. Now Roy was the one pushing down on Thog, and through that maniacal frenzy, real alarm and shock shone through on Thog’s face. One more push. One. More. Push –
A wolf flew into the arena, and collapsed next to then, unconscious.
“TALKY MAN HURT PUPPY!!” Thog slammed Roy to the ground, his advantage gone in an instant. “THOG KILL TALKY MAN!!”
What, Roy wondered as he flung a handful of sand into Thog’s already wounded eyes, had he done to deserve this?
If there was a small mercy, it was that rather than flinging him into a wall AGAIN, Thog blindly threw Roy away with so much height that he went sailing clean into the stands. All things considered, the pain from hitting the elevated ramps was downright manageable. With a low groan, he picked himself up. Not even a moment to spare…
“Wow!” said one of the fans, half-turned in his seat to watch Roy. “This is the best fight of the season!”
“Oh, well, as long as you're enjoying it, I guess it's all worth while.” Roy caught his breath just in time to see Thog barreling down the middle of the area, pointed towards him like an arrow and without about as much impersonal, unintelligent killing power. This wasn’t a show fight. Thog wasn’t going to stop. “HEY!” he said, whirling around to address the fans. “What are you slack-jawed morons doing sitting around?? He's coming! Get out of here or you'll get hurt!”
Thog definitely wasn’t going to stop,
“Go! Run away!” Roy frantically flailed his arms at the crowd, doing his best to sound angry and scary instead of panicked. “Get everyone out of this section! I'm a big scary gladiator with permissive ideas about individual rights! BOO!” They were almost all gone by now. “Save…”
The shadow on the ramp was all the warning he got, but it was all the warning he needed. “—yourself,” he concluded, and mentally braced himself for yet another delightful round of pain.
Several hundred pounds of raging barbarian slammed into Roy from he didn’t know how high, with enough brutal force to drive the pair of them clean through the elevated ramp. Beneath it was nothing worse than a fall, thirty feet or so down to the ground floor of the coliseum, which Roy just barely managed to take on his back and shoulders instead of his face. He took Thog’s boots to his face instead, as the half-orc stomped him into the ground, then tumbled off.
For a moment, Roy could do nothing more than lie there and try to cope with how much he hurt, while three guards ran through his field of view with the tied-up wizard from the Linear Guild in tow. V had won his part of the fight – and the shadows of the arches gave him an idea.
This was going to suck.
“Hey! Thog!” Roy sprang to his feet, scrambling to one side as the half-orc turned to orient on him once more. “I hate puppies! I think they're dumb!”
With an incoherent yell, Thog launched himself forward, driving his shoulder into Roy’s gut in a mindless tackle that hurled them both into a pillar. The stone gave way beneath Roy’s back, and he could feel the tremble of tension in it as he ripped himself free, shoving away Thog’s glass-spike face as he dove past him. “I like stealing their food! And making them feel bad about themselves!”
Thog didn’t even yell this time. Was he just that mad, or was he that determined to make Roy hurt for his words? He definitely achieved the latter, as he grabbed Roy to smash him clean through the column. Had Roy’s ribs cracked again? He thought he might be bleeding internally, but he couldn’t tell. He just had to – crawl three more feet…”And I think... your broken tooth... Nnh!” Almost there… “ ...makes you look like a girl!
This one was the most brutal of the three. Thog grabbed Roy’s head and rammed it through the third column like he was trying to smash open a watermelon on the ground. Roy’s only saving grace was that his head was stronger than a watermelon. Barely.
“THOG HATE YOU, TALKY MAN! THOG HATE YOU! THOG—” The energy slowly bled out of Thog’s voice as his expression lightened, the quivering tension draining out of his muscles, and the deeper green out of his skin. “—hate——thog hate...?”
His rage had finally, finally, come to an end. Roy slowly picked himself up, pushing himself to his feet as Thog blinked in the aftermath of his berserker rampage. “what was thog saying? thog confused, where is thog—“
Roy kicked him in the gut.
“Stop talking.”
For the first time, Thog’s back slammed into a column instead. Not really hard. But hard enough, as he bounced off it to tumble to the ground, and Roy scambled to put distance between them.
As Thog sat up, one little pebble dropped from the ceiling onto his head. Roy, figuring Thog was much too stupid to realize the ramifications of that, pointed up – to the shattered ceiling, where a vast spiderweb of cracks grew larger by the second as the broken pillar slowly sheared away from its base.
The collapse sounded apocalyptic, as literal tons of stone crashed downwards towards the two fighters. Roy, prepared, jumped out of the way. Thog…
Well.
Roy’s plan had succeeded, let’s put it that way.
Gasping for breath, Roy picked himself up for what he hoped would be the last time today.
“Cross-class... skill ranks in...,” he gulped in another deep breath, then continued… “Knowledge (Architecture and Engineering)...”
He was exhausted, hurt, out of breath, and in desperate straits. But he wouldn’t be Roy Greenhilt if he couldn’t point at the pile of rubble lying atop Thog and muster up the strength to say, “THAT'S how I use my Intelligence score in combat, DUMBASS!!”
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Again, some of the context for the events was missing, leaving everything a bit confusing, but the core of this scene was more straightforward. Roy fighting some kind of person (monster?) who he had a history with. To the death, but she already knew that was part of his job as an adventurer.
No, the part that jumped out at her was the things they were saying, which she couldn't understand.
"...I'm sorry for seeing something I shouldn't have, but would it be all right if I asked some questions about your world?"
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This sounds bizarre, but it's also sort of fascinating.
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"How does it work anywhere else?"
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This is a surprisingly hard question to answer. She takes a second to gather her thoughts.
"I guess... nothing is really entirely 'random', so there isn't anything like a die roll. If I tried to throw a punch, whether or not I hit would just depend on the angle of the punch, the speed, my footing, my condition, the other person's reaction speed, the atmosphere..."
Or does it actually get random when you reach the level of subatomic particles? Her science classes hadn't gone this deep.
"...When there's enough factors, it can seem random, but the outcome is always the exact result of the actions taken and the conditions surrounding them."
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That's actually a good point. It made sense in her head, but maybe life IS just a series of dice rolls when you get down to it.
"...maybe it's not that different. If I was understanding what I saw in that memory, though, it seemed like everyone knew what dice were being rolled, and what numbers were affecting them. We don't get that kind of insight into anything."
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Does... DOES she have attack and damage modifiers? If she fought Roy, could they calculate them out?
"If I was fighting a monster, I wouldn't think about it in terms of attack bonuses or damage rolls. I'd just think, I'm fairly strong but not as strong as Kyouko, if I hit it here or there, I might be able to cause this kind of damage to that part of its body... then, if it works, then the damage might restrict what it can do to fight back, or it might not work and then I'll have to find a different way to attack."
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"What does it mean to have +2 Strength? How's it different from +1?"
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