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Lovecraftian Conversion Main Game Thread

 
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Nyarlathotep
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PostPosted: Thu Sep 26, 2013 11:42 pm    Post subject: Lovecraftian Conversion Main Game Thread Reply with quote

You have a long path to take, one both extended in time and riddled with troubles. If you wish to go far, there is much for you to do and perhaps even more to learn.

It is not well that there is so much you lack that you could use in your quest, you don't even know each other, your foremost potential allies, or perhaps foes, if any of you fail to work together even in circumstances like these - and that might be for the better, little can wreak sanity out of humans better than a battle between beings beyond their comprehension.

So, speak up, even if I know about you, I prefer not to reveal anything in your stead, it is your choice which secrets to keep, or at least for now it's so, while I spare you due to the dire circumstances.
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PostPosted: Fri Sep 27, 2013 3:15 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

After consulting an astrologer, a shaman, the Oracle at Delphi, and a card reader, as well as running a battery of computer simulations, it appears that we will need the following items for our quest:

a pair of sparkly navy blue high-heel shoes, size 6E
one spool of nylon fishing wire, tested to 50 kg
one fake mustache
a tuning fork for middle A, 440 Hz
three single-size boxes of Rice Krispies cereal (regular, not chocolate)
two Astigs (spring-hinged pince-nez), one yellow and one purple
a musical score for the Goldberg Variations, BWV 988
a half-dozen sausage and sauerkraut kolaches in a brown paper bag
one piece of green chalk

Also, I was warned that if the man with the limp asks us about the fish we are supposed to say "No, but our grandmother did" unless it is Tuesday, in which case we say "Yes, in the bed of the truck".

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What is the secret of Zen? Burn all your Zen books.

If you can't handle losing then you don't deserve to win.

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Hashi, if you thought you were wrong at times, evidently you were mistaken.


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Nyarlathotep
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PostPosted: Fri Sep 27, 2013 10:23 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

A curious list, reminds me of a poem I've heard elsewhere,

A brick crawls up a wall
It's wooden, just like glass
Well, let it crawl as it likes
Perhaps its nest is there
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Andrius the White
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PostPosted: Wed Oct 02, 2013 2:36 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I bring nothing except the clothes on my back, my rosary, and my Bible. Though, the Lord walks at my side, as well.
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Nyarlathotep
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PostPosted: Thu Oct 03, 2013 10:26 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Amusing - it almost appears as if you people purposefully attempt to surprise me. Well, that's a worthy challenge to take, to surprise Chaos himself.

Am I going to see more of the unusual kind? Or is someone going to have some good old tentacles - for a change now?
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PostPosted: Fri Oct 11, 2013 8:55 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

You stand upon the edge of a great forest. Branches bend and snap in the wind, your ears fill with the sussurrus of millions of leaves. To your eyes they are a mass of shadows.

You enter.

Black trunks rise around you, only vague shapes in the dark. The canopy hides the sky. Dense undergrowth pulls and catches at your feet. You press forward. There is something with you.

Brambles scratch red lines upon your legs. A low branch clutches at your hair. You begin to run, but something trips you and you fall, your face striking the dirt. Your lip bleeds. There is something with you.

You regain your feet, and walk again, slowly, pushing through the plants that claw and grasp at your form, hands held out to find your way in the dark, and to strike at the branches that reach for your eyes. You stumble into a break in the trees, an empty space, and above you the canopy opens and you see the sky. The night is full of stars, and between them the void, and you stare into the void, and it looks back at you, and it sees you and it is watching you it is watching all it sees all and it will devour all--

You wake.
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Nyarlathotep
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PostPosted: Sat Oct 12, 2013 10:28 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

How lovely of you, Eater of Dreams, to leave the Dreamlands for this. I'm delighted, and also to see a more familiar kind of face, if this can be said for your lack of one, well, that's also something I'm more used to, and the poor humans are not - all the better.
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PostPosted: Thu May 08, 2014 8:34 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

In waking, the dream sticks in your thoughts, like a splinter under the skin that you cannot stop picking at. At work, you go through the motions. Your manager notices you staring into space. You do not notice him.

At home, your partner says that you seem distant. The dream seems like such a small thing that you are ashamed to share your fear. Instead, you press lips against lips, flesh against flesh, to keep from having to speak. After, you lie awake staring at the ceiling. You do not want to dream again.

When you feel you cannot keep your eyes open any longer, you rise and go downstairs. The television cannot keep your eyes from drifting closed. The maw gapes wide in your thoughts, opening to swallow you whole-- you snap awake. You cannot let sleep come. You exercise, punishing your body to keep your mind alert. This activity carries you through to the morning.

The next day slides past in a haze, coffee and work and home again, and it feels as if no time has passed at all when night falls once more. You fuck desperately, hungrily, eager for any sensation to drown out the maw in your thoughts. As soon as your partner sleeps, you rise again.

This time you find a pen and notebook, thinking perhaps writing will keep your mind alert. You begin to write aimlessly, barely thinking about what you put down.

With the dawn's light comes a kind of clarity, a knife slicing through the fog of your thoughts. The maw can be kept at bay; you no longer need sleep. Your notebook is full, but the words you see are in no language you understand.

Your manager sends you home before the morning is over. On the way, you stop at the store and buy a stack of new notebooks. At home you write, filling page upon page with the strange writing. You do not try to make sense of the words.

The maw grows in your thoughts, but you will not be consumed.

Your partner comes home and looks at you with strange eyes, an unfamiliar face. You do not stop writing. There is an argument you do not take part in, and you do not go to bed.

In the early morning you go to the bedroom and stand over the bed, watching, waiting. You see it - there - in the moment of waking, the first opening of the eyes as sleep ends. Your partner looks up at you with fear, but now you know what hides behind that gaze.

You do not go to work, instead you pace around your home, moving restlessly. You take up the notebooks and read the words you have written, not caring what they mean. And you wait for the stranger with your partner's face to return.

You know the answer, though it pains you to think of it. You saw those eyes, moving under eyelids, eyes that closed to treacherous sleep. Empty eyes that do not belong in the face of the one you love. You saw the maw that lurked behind those eyes, but you have mastered the maw, you are one with the maw, and you know what needs to be done.

In the end, it is easier than you expected. You only wish there was less noise.
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Nyarlathotep
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PostPosted: Fri May 23, 2014 7:25 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

In the city one standing next to a heap of notebooks filled in an unknown language turns sharply, as if something familiar shouted out from the direction of the forest, beckoning like a flame to a moth, as if something is... not really close to waking up, but closer than before.
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