Storytime with ED

[ExtropianDreamer]

Not sure if this's the right place for this particular story, since it's chiefly about me. But what the hey, I'll repost it anyway.

Expect more to follow, whenever I can be arsed.

Woah? You too? Clearly we must be Mist butterfly buddies.

Though, that brings to mind the story of my first Mist session and it's terrible, fucked-up glitchy-ness. Wanna hear it?

Actually, know what? Don't care, telling you anyway.

Anyway, it was my... third session, if I recall correctly. Just a small little thing, nice and cosy with only four players who all seemed decent enough folks. I rolled Bard of Mist, with a Witch of Rain, Knight of Space and Maid of Time to round things off. Things were going all swimmingly at first, the Witch got in just fine with the Knight and I not too far behind. And then we got to the Maid. She faffed about a little, kept messing about and putting off the entry shenanigans. I think it was only her second playthrough, so I guess she might not have wanted to plunge straight in. Except she dithered a tad too long. BAM! Died during entry. And I'm like, oh shit, better make with the corpsesmooches 'cause the Witch and the Knight had already waded into their quests and were nowhere near a portal so it was all up to little old me. It works she pops back up and we all assume that everything is gravy.

'Cept it's not. Turns out the Witch, doing her witchy thing, had prototyped a playing card. Guess which one? That's right, it was the fucking Joker. So Noir (fuck that asshole) was all up and getting his rampage on, including, as we later found out, showing his stabs to the Maid's and the Witch's Dreamselves whilst they were still napping away on that sweet purple moon of theirs. Which raises the question of how she popped back up - 'cause let me tell you, those holes them meteors made in her weren't exactly the sorta thing you survive. In the end we shrug, assume that it's more weird Sburb bullshit that'll make sense in retrospect and get on with playing the damn apocalyptic murder-game.

We eventually manage to nab Noir and Exile him before he can get his hands on the ring or do the same for the Prospitian Dreamselves, 'cause whatever bullfuckery allowed the Maid to win her way back to the land of the living, we don't want to chance it. But we end up having to anyway when our Knight takes a shortcut through an Atomyk Ebonpyre and gets dogpiled by Giclopses, eventually followed by him pulling Knight syndrome just in time to get the Witch killed as well - the two were buddy-buddy for most of the session incidentally and, I know it's wrong to speak ill of the dead but I'll say it anyway, the dude was a terrible Knight. Might have done better as a Scout of Blood or something. Anyway, he and the Witch bite it and I figure, well, looks like I'll have to see if whatever bullshit worked on the Maid works for them too. It does, they pop right back up , I add another couple of notches to my "corpses smooched" tally and we carry on, nevermind that three out of four players have miraculously pulled a third freaking life out of nowhere. It's Sburb, weird shit happens and without a Seer we'll just have to wait to figure out what's going on.

Life is great, fun times are had by all and so on until we get to the Skaian Skirmishes. The Endgame is coming up fast, and we figure we should get to the bottom of the extra lives business. So we mosey on over to the Land of Towers and Ropes and Frogs and put the question to our surviving Denizen, asking him how the fuck three of our players are still alive. His answer? "There's only one player here". Turns out I'd spent the last year and change talking to myself. Basically the entire game had just been me, and a bunch of double-Waltz'd time-clones.

Over a year. Talking to my fucking self.

Man, fuck Mist. Or maybe fuck Bards, 'cause the turning into Butterflies thing was kinda sweet. But especially fuck the Bard outfit, that thing is horrible.

Side-effect of that bullshit, Sburb now thinks that I'm all of those players permanently, thanks to Weird Mist Shit. So I've rolled some supposedly female-only titles since. The Dame outfit does not look good on me.

So yeah, there's my weird Mist shit horror story from back when I was a mewling newbie. Hope someone can learn something from that mess.

[chivalrousjackal]

*slow clap*

That is one effed up session. Wow. Makes a good story though? Oh man, remind me to keep a close eye on anyone and myself who rolls Mist.

By the way, if you're all those players, then...how do you not have weird messed up glitches with multiple titles? Is it fixable? And did you eventually get a Seer to look into why Sburb is still pegging you with your coplayers' identity?

[crystallineLullaby]

Oh hell

I...really don't know what to say to that. I wish psy-buffs could transfer over the internet because you sound like you could use some good ol' Hope therapy.

[ExtropianDreamer]

May 20, 2012 20:47:03 GMT -5 chivalrousjackal said:

By the way, if you're all those players, then...how do you not have weird messed up glitches with multiple titles? Is it fixable? And did you eventually get a Seer to look into why Sburb is still pegging you with your coplayers' identity?

There have been a couple of title glitches, but mostly it just ends up with Sburb thinking I'm the Bane of Hope four times over. Means that sometimes I have to do certain things four times. Get Knight syndrome four times, wake the Forge four times, etc.

Only really bad part is when I roll Waste or Grace. Four cataclysms is pretty fucking terrifying, even if at least one of them usually ends up helping. Happened to me three times so far.

It doesn't appear to be fixable, but this happened in my third session. I've gotten used to it. Best I've been able to tell, Sburb didn't properly acknowledge the other players as dead due to my predestined impersonation of them (I actually forgot who I was whilst I was doing it), so it figured they had to be going somewhere after the session ended. And the only thing leaving that session was me.

[tungstenTinkerer]

Yeah... [Those Lost in the Fog] is kind of a... Freakish ability to deal with. It must be freakish for the other ones involved, and it is freakish for the Mist player himself. Especially if then you go into Haze-trances and convince yourself you are that person. Then it's not only bad for you, but it's also a ridiculous lack of respect towards the dead and their friends, too.

Sadly, we can't really help it. Mist players have being... More than themselves in their nature, if that makes sense.

But seriously, this is one of the main reason I keep telling people that using [Smokes and Mirror] on [Tangled Waltz] is just inviting trouble. Having clones sounds sweet and everything, but it just... Works weird pretty much every single time. Especially if [Dord Waltz] is involved.

I'm all for copying Rain abilities but only if you know what you are doing, you are already nuts, or both.

[ExtropianDreamer]

Episode two of storytime with ED, kiddies.

Formatting of this crazy ass rant for legibility to follow later. Which is to say, when I stop laughing and ranting and hearing the Voices again even through the Strife andtheykeepscreamignandshoutingandIshouldn'thavetalkedaboutthisbutit'stoolateIcanheartheVoicesohgodsohgodsIdon'twanttohearthemIdon'twanttoremembermakeitstopbutIcan'tIdon'tanymoresoIwon'tIstoppedrunningImustalwaysfaceitsoIwillandI'vebeenrunnignandhidingallthistimebecauseitalwayshurtsandlasttimehurtevenmoreandIwasfailedagainit'sjustlikebeforeexceptnowit'sworseinsteadoffailingmyselfIfailthemandtheyalldiedsoscaredcan'tletithappenagainandohgodswhat'shappeningwhyarethevoiceshereI'mnotRainI'mHopebuttheVoicesarehereanywayoramIjustrememberingthem AND THERE ARE NO LIMITS THERE ARE NO RULES THEY ARE ALL ILLUSIONS AND DREAMS AND I WILL FORGET THEM LIKE ALL DREAMS WILL BE AND I WILL TEAR THEM DOWN AND KEEP THEM SAFE AND NOTHING SHALL HURT THEM I WILL NOT LET IT I WILL PROTECT THEM I SHALL MAKE AME-

And stopping now. Bye. Need to go calm down.

Jun 10, 2012 17:01:52 GMT -5 ExtropianDreamer said:

Speaking of jumping out of your skin...

I did that once, literally. Though it involved less jumping and more tearing it off. My Rain runs have this weird tendency towards self-mutilation, like when I rolled Seer of Rain I actually tore out my own eyes (I think I may have eaten them afterwards, I'm not sure). It's freaky as fuck to everyone else, but when I'm Rain it just feels like the sensible thing to do. It's like there's this huge mass of potential all swirling around inside me and I have to let it out and the only way to do that is to tear a hole for it so that's what I do and it's scary as fuck but then the rainbow light inside comes spilling out and oh gods I'm terrified and I'm ecstatic and I'm great and I'm glorious and I'm powerful and the Voices are just so loud and when I was a Page I was so sad and unhappy and my fears and doubts were just overwhelming and I was just like 'should I do this? What if it goes wrong?" and I never got anything done and I needed to make a break and stop pretending to be me and start actually being me you know and I kept trying and trying but I didn't know where to start and I kept on letting people down and eventually it got too much and I couldn't even pretend but then the Voices spoke to me for the first time and I got back to my feet and kept trying but eventually even that wasn't enough and I. Just. Crashed. But then she was in trouble. And she'd always been there for me. But what if I just made things worse? I was so scared I'd make things worse, even though things were as bad as they could get, so scared that I couldn't move even more than I already couldn't but the Voices were there for me (theVoiceswereme/theVoiceswereinme) and I just leapt or maybe the Voices pushed me but only metaphorically because I was still one my knees but I stood up I needed to make a clean break I couldn't keep pretend I had to actually be I couldn't keep wearing the mask so I tore it off and the mask was my face but underneath I was still wearing the mask only it wasn't a mask it was me I wasn't pretending anymore and it hurt but I was standing and then I was walking and then I was running and then I said fuck fear I just tore my own goddamn face off I'm not pretending anymore more cause you can't stop me and I didn't care about being scared anymore and I did and I saved her not that she needed it because Ruth is (was?) unstoppable and now so was I because now I didn't stop for anything and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me all just ripped and tore our way through everything because I/we weren't scared anymore because fear is useless and I tore it away when I tore off my face to let the rainbow out and I didn't stop not even bro died not everyone when it was just me and Ruth left to fight the Black Queen when she left her throne (whenwebrokeherthrone) and I couldn't die I couldn't let bro's death be in vein and I had his crowbar and I couldn't stop and we were laughing and we won and everyone else was dead but I survived and I had to make it right and I had to make it worth it so I kept carrying on butintheenditwasallfornaughttheendingdoesn'tworktheUltimateRewardisglitchedandIhateitandIhateSburbbecausenowitwasallfornothingandeveryonediedinveinnotthatitwouldhavebeenagooddeathanywayitwasallsosenselessbutbrosaidtoneverletmyselfbestoppedanymoresoNOIwon'tIwon'teverstopIcan'tletthemdowntheghost/theVoicesinmyheadwon'tletmeandIwon'tletmeandI'mranting so I should probably stop now, 'kay?

...Yeah. Sanity is left at the door for Rain runs.

Though I did keep quite a bit from my that first run, even if I've calmed down and mellowed out a tad since. I'm still not ever going to stop, no matter how hard Sburb tries to make me lay down and die.

Feeling like I might start ranting again, so I'm gonna go do something to cool off until the Voices go quiet again.

[ExtropianDreamer]

Third story. Now with less insane ranting.

Jun 22, 2012 21:57:30 GMT -5 ExtropianDreamer said:

Maaaaaan. My second was one helluva trip. Mostly because it just sort of built off my first.

My first session was all about me learning how to stop talking about the things I was going to do, and actually do them. Stop hesitating and worrying and just do it, let all the colours and mayhem I had bottled up inside and paint the world in rainbows and moonlight. Once I'd managed it though, I was still all over the place. My second session taught to me to focus that mania, how to turn it into a tool and a fuel and, if need be, a weapon. I went from being the Page of Rain to being the Knight of Dreams with a pretty seamless progression. So my role wasn't so bad. It was hard, really damn hard, but it was something I needed to learn and one I eventually came to like. Dreams is still my second-favourite aspect.

The rest of the session was total bullcrap though. My first session only had one other survivor, and loosing her was just... fuck. All that work? All those sacrifices? Even my freaking brother!? And for it all to just add up to... nothing? I just didn't see the point anymore. Suffice to say, I got hit by Knight Syndrome pretty damn hard for the first part of that session. But I had bro's crowbar, the weight of it in my hand just kept reminding me whenever I had to strife (like fuck was I going to lay down and die). I'd promised him I'd keep on going, so eventually I picked myself off the ground. Just doing nothing wasn't a trap I was going to fall into anymore. And as I kept moving I realised... however pointless it may be, these assholes I was playing with were still people. Sure, I wasn't half as close to them, but they were still people. And that meant I couldn't just do what I wanted, because their lives depended on me doing my part in the session. I had lives to protect (and life is something helluva precious) and memories to honour. So I kept going, threw myself into things and haven't stopped since. The old wounds are still there, they don't ever go away, not really, but you learn to live with them, learn to use them as just more fuel for the madness.

Everyone you loved may be dead, but that don't mean you can stop moving until you've raised a fitting tombstone for them. Way I see it, only thing that would do my bro justice is to make this game's corpse into his memorial. Just gotta survive until I get the chance to make it happen. 'Till then, I'll be damned if I'll let anymore folks die when I can do something about it.

But yeah, second sessions are the worst ones, for all the reasons you listed.

[ExtropianDreamer]

And fourth. Man, I'm on a roll. This one's a bit short by my standards though.

I seem to be painting a nice little picture of my early sessions here though.

Jun 22, 2012 22:10:09 GMT -5 ExtropianDreamer said:

I was a Muse of Sand, way back in my fourth session.

My gender was glitched (and still is) thanks to Mist bullshit in the previous session, so Sburb saw my refusal to act feminine as a problem that needed to be overcome. Yes, Sburb is a massive dick that way. I used to be reasonably androgynous when I was younger and with Sand drifting around, rendering honesty goddamn impossible... well, the rest of the session thought I was a lady, believe it or not. The Muse godhoodie did not help in the slightest.

[ExtropianDreamer]

Another Rain-tainted storyrant about my time in my first session, including a mention of my little dance with corruption.

Managed to avoid freaking out this time, though The Voices did sneak their own little comment in there at the end.

I'm going to see if I can't dig up a picture of myself from back then, give you folks a gander.

Aug 14, 2012 18:50:31 GMT -5 ExtropianDreamer said:

I was a Page of Rain, my first time round.

Like most Pages, I was pretty pathetic before the game started. Had all these ideas and dreams that I just would not start talking about, all these principles and ideals I thought were so great, I never fucking shut up about all these things I was thinking.

But you know what I did with all those awesome ideas? Jack shit. I never did anything. I thought about what I'd do, I had the fucking skills to pull it off, but while all my coplayer buddies were off at uni, getting their PHDs so they could go change the fucking world (have I mentioned that all of my original coplayers were fucking genius scientists or engineers or some shit? I might have been in fucking mensa but in that session I was the dumb one. I was the artist, the passion to their reason, the unaugmented madman to their cybernetic visionary), I just sat at my parents house, dreaming and thinking and never putting words to action and actually doing something. And it wasn't anything new. I hadn't drawn anything, hadn't made anything in years by that point.

I felt trapped. I knew what was wrong, and I knew what I had to change. I wanted to fucking change. I wanted it so bad it fucking hurt. But I'd gotten used to not doing anything, like a bad fucking habit, and deep down inside, some part of me wanted to stay that way. I might have been a failure, I might not have been doing anything, but that was okay. It was safe, familiar. I was used to the shame and the disappointment and the self-fucking-loathing every time I failed to drag myself out of the pit I'd fallen into. Didn't want to leave my comfort zone on some level, you know? I'd sit down to draw something, even the simplest, smallest of things, and I just wouldn't be able to. I literally couldn't bring myself to put pen to paper, I'd built up this huge mental block about it and I couldn't figure out a way to get past it. I was fighting against myself, really.

Stayed that way, being all depressed and useless and a failure, until about halfway through the game. I'll admit, I'd picked up a bit of corruption by that point. Us Rain aspects are fluent in Broodfester, see? So when the Others spoke, I could understand them perfectly. They knew just the right things to say, the right carrot to dangle, the right levers to pull. Offered me an easy way out, a way I could avoid having to do anything at all. Went against the things I stood for, practically anathema to the ideals I held, but I fucking listened. I was so used to failing, so used to doing nothing, that I fucking took their goddess damned offer. Hated myself every moment of it, but I was used to that too.

And then my bro went down in what I'd now know to be an Ebonpyre. We didn't know you could just snog the dreamself to stabilise it back then. We thought it had to be the corpsesmooch every time. He sounded so fucking scared, thought he was going to die - my bro was never scared. Snapped me right out of it, brought me right around from the brink of those broodfester throes. No matter how bad I got, I could always make an effort when my friends and family were right there in front of me. So I did.

Out of the six players in that session, I was the only one who could hold their own in a straight fight, even the Sylph was more of an assassin than an actual fighter (but she was fucking terrifyingly good at it). But we had a whole lot of scrying and prophesying going on, and they all said it had to be me, had to be the Page on this little quest. So I did my thing. I put one foot in front of the other and I fucking did it. I had to, for my bro. I tore off my face and let all the crazy goodness locked inside my head out, pouring out of my skull and into the world, unleashed my fucking madness and said 'fuck you' to my comfort zone. No more standing still, no more just talking, no more saying 'I'll do it later', I do it fucking NOW. And that was the start. That was the moment I made the switch from being the pathetic, useless slob I used to be, to being the bleeding-faced madgod I was meant to be, to doing and making instead of saying and thinking. That was was when I finally shut up, sat down and put my money where my mouth was (or used to be, as it so happened to be). I started there, in that instant when my fingers pierced my skin and tore it away. (I should show you folks a picture form back then. I looked fucking horrifying like that - always have been okay with being a monster godnotmonster.)

I even managed to save him, for a while.