Our winner is...

• The Great Tribunal Race! (ft. Not the Tribunal) (GM: Trip) — Info

[loudly BL Js]

congrats mango!

WOOT!!!!!!!

Congrats Trip!

often times people ask me how victory feels

i tell them it just feels normal

You have achieved a victory!

Congratulations, Trip! ^.^

I would do that infamous Evangelion clip, but that's probably a dead joke by now.

Regardless, OMEDETO!

It is quiet here...

too quiet...

[1]

Edited by foxmccloud4387 on Sep 16th 2019 at 11:06:11 AM

-Aichi screaming-

and i said hey

He's back!

naNIIIIIIIIII

i brought olives

holy fuck

Dum-dum-da-dadada-dum!

~Captain Scarlet...~

OLIVE?!

As in... the Olive Olive! Not the Olive I usually see!

well◊

that's new◊

usually it'd just blam the server from the list if it was down

DAY 15

GIVE IT UP FOR DAY 15
by which i mean plot pitches are open once more

A (clumsily-worded) Refresher on Voting:

• No voting until I say the polls are locked. They will start as open and will stay so until all pitches have been submitted.
• No announcing who you're gonna vote for publicly. All votes should be PMed/DMed to me for confidentiality's sake.
  • It should follow that you shouldn't post your vote in the discussion thread.
• Please don't vote if you're not in the RP. If you don't understand what the distinction is and need clarification, those of us who have been here awhile will be glad to answer.
• The submissions will be listed as closing after they've been locked and I've received almost all the votes. Please, if you're online (and in the RP as per the above), vote and don't hold things up. You may also change your vote during this time if you desire. If there's a tie, a revote may be called.
  • We're still going with ranked-choice voting/instant runoff/the alternative vote. TL;DR you'll be ranking your choices on the ballot in order of how much you like them rather than just picking your favorite. Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns about this method.
• The submissions will be listed as locked after all votes have been received. Voting after the submissions are locked ain't gon' do much, sadly.

Most importantly, remember: dia-bee-teez. dia-beetis.

now that the metaplot is set up metaplot connections are (hopefully) gonna flying a bit more hot and heavy, if you have any questions as a potential plot gm give me a shout and i'll be happy to answer

The streets outside the Mall◊ were teeming in the neon light. The air hung hot and hazy like the fraying edges of some sweet and fetid dream. Lengii and travellers across the stars had assembled in an undulating mass of flesh and enthusiasm, pulsing and chanting in time with the manic, euphoric synth beats crackling from a thousand speakers.

Vania◊ looked up, the light streaking her face like paint. It shone in streaks across her purple designer shades. She was wearing all of the Star-Merch, her favorite baggy shirt, her Bezalel pants, her Ammon slippers. Bezalel’s handsome, smug face winked dozens of times down her legs against a gradient plane of blue and red. Vania was an acolyte of the advert, an initiate of the inane, a mystagogue of the media, dressed to the nines in the garments of her office and at the foot of her temple. The Mall was a towering mass of glowing and angles and smooth polished black, dappled with stars, and it made her feel so lucky to be there. She looked down at the ticket in her hands and crossed her fingers. Let it be me, she thought, she hoped. By all the Dark Gods in their terrible bone-thrones, let it be me.

The stage in front of the mall, made from a dozen shimmering crystals in complex, light up in a hellish conflagration. Forming from the light and sound was the Starlight Game’s host, Bezalel◊. He was dressed in an immaculately hot-pink suit with hearts for buttons. He was smiling, his pale face perfectly complemented by a swath of dark curls. It was so perfect in every way, as if it had been sculpted from clouds and blessed with the kiss of the divine, which, of course, it had been.

Holy crap, Vania thought, what a DREAMBOAT….

The crowd went up in thunderous applause, cheering and howling in unearthly tongues. The entire city was watching, a million and one eyes turned to the city in the stars. She could hear the Pipers from the center-point, humming and thrumming their endless melody. A ten foot tall Lengii, with arms made out of knives, threw Bezalel a rose. He caught it and lifted it to his nose.

“Oh, splendid,” he said, “welcome, welcome, my stellar friends, to the most magnificent night in all of the universe, to the Starlight Game’s very own casting call!”

The crowd went up in another deafening cheer. Vania pumped her arms into the air and howled. Vanya◊, that dumb bitch, peered at her, eyelights ablaze with contempt. Vania blew a raspberry in her direction, and Vanya vanished from sight. Somewhere in the crowd the Gugs were laughing and screaming. Bezalel bowed and with a single gesture of his hands revealed a massive screen, hidden by the threads of logic that composed the world.

“We shan’t waste your time tonight,” he said, beaming, “our first facilitator shall be...!”

Vania watched, waiting for the screen to show her face. She was ready.

Tommy Catkins◊ hated the city, he thought, as a gout of flame singed his tail. The quaint plains around Ulthar, with their gently swaying tallgrass and seas of warm browns and greens, were a much better place for little kitties like he. Still, he knew, now was no time for laments. He was in cover behind a tipped picnic table, now quickly becoming reduced to kindling for the world’s worst bonfire. He could hear the Hierophant’s jibberjaber from the fountain.

“N'ghftuh'eog ahornrm hup nafl'fhtagn ghnaghm, ng nilgh'ri cahf ah bthnkor ng mgn'ghft ahor ah'mglw'nafh!”

Charming, he felt. Catkins grabbed his hat and briefly held it above the table. Within three seconds the hat was on fire. Catkins dropped it and popped up, gun in paw, knowing they’d wasted their shot. He saw the Hierophant, a small man with a baby’s face, and saw his two Mystagogues, flame-spitters empty, fumbling to fill them with fire.

“Sorry, gentlemen,” Catkins said, smirking, “but turnabout is fair play.”

He pulled the trigger.

The lounge◊ was full of empty cans of cherry cola. Atal◊ leaned back in her seat and sighed. She would not come again, not for a long time, she thought. She’d developed a pounding headache, and she was not sure if it was from the music, the stress, or the Flame Priests.

Nasht and Kaman-Thah◊ watched her intently, eyes peering from their screen-heads, each with a can of cherry cola in their hand. She looked at them and scowled.

“No,” she said, “I won’t stop. The Plant will continue operation at maximum efficiency as per my directives.”

The two Flame Priests began to vehemently shake their heads, and Kaman-Thah cranked Nasht’s voicebox. Atal stood up.

“I said no, damn you,” she put out her chest, “I am a Priest of Things, I have my rights. Starry Wisdom has brought word to us from Kadath that we our undiluted service is required in preparation for this accursed game. I shall do what I am instructed, not listen to the mewlings of two fools who would have us rot in this blasted - blasted - cosmic cul de sac! There is no future for us here! None! Can not your addled minds comprehend this truth?”

She looked around, gesturing to the sea of cans on the floor. Her voice was starting to crack.

“I order you to see reason you stupid addicts!”

Kaman-Thah stopped, deflated. He looked to Nasht to speak.

“You bring in peril,” Nasht’s synthesized voice whirred, “not only us, but the logos. Seth w—”

“Seth! Always Seth! Your god deceives you and offers naught but offal and sputum” she said, “you have rotted your minds with this cola and filled it with puerile dreams. We are done here.”

She turned and left Seventy-Steps without another word.

The Starlight Game

Second time’s the charm, huh?

The Starlight Game◊ is set in the cosmic metropolis of Leng, situated beyond the reach of the regular laws of spacetime. The party will be, though circumstance, brought to Leng and invited to participate in the mysterious Starlight Game, a magical game show hosted by the charismatic Outer God, Bezalel.

The Starlight Game is meant to extract the maximum amount of pathos from its cast for the entertainment of the baying masses in lightless abysses outside time. The party will be split into three competing teams who will participate in sadistic and often directly harmful minigames to avoid survivor-style elimination votes. Eliminated characters will be removed from the Game, but not permanently killed or anything silly like that. Players whose characters are eliminated will not be forced to sit out either, but instead will work with me, the GM, to have some special roles and experiences. If you personally are uncomfortable with the possibility of having your character voted off, you are welcome to express that up front so that other players know to not vote for your character.

The primary objective of the plot is to escape the Game intact, through exploration of Leng and the uncovery of its secrets and the secrets of the Game. There will be considerable downtime focus in this plot where much of the adventuring and content will happen. This plot is meant to be player-driven and character-centric, with much depending on the players interacting with the world around them, and tangible rewards and perks being granted to characters for exploration.

Also, Liz Abbott will (still) appear.

This plot, however, due to its character focus, requires that people only play one main character to keep things manageable.

how connected to the metaplot are you willing to make it?

very, i'd be happy to work with the metaplot gms to integrate this firmly into the overall course of the metaplot and i'm willing to finnagle a lot of it if that's what it takes

although i doubt it will come to that, since my outline is flexible