Semblance of a Man

Hey gang! I'm a TTRPG dev, and I wrote Myosotis: Forget-Me-Not three years ago. https://kinasten.itch.io/myosotis Myosotis: Forget-Me-Not is a game about death, memory, and character. Specifically, you describe a character's life after their death. This character might be an OC, one made specifically for this game, or my personal favourite; characters from campaigns you never got to finish.

Myosotis is played using a deck of standard playing cards. I chose this for two reasons: 1. A deck has a natural limit/length, and 2. The notion of suits can bring quite a lot of complexity to an otherwise simple mechanic.

In Myosotis, you draw cards, and per value and suit fill out a document according to a prompt. If the suit Red (Hearts/Diamonds), it is 'remembered', meaning you can draw this card value again. If it is black, it is instead forgotten.

Forgotten cards are the last of their kind - any time you draw a forgotten card value again, discard it without filling out the prompt. This simple mechanic means that the length of a game of Forget-Me-Not can vary greatly, but you will never be filling out all four prompts.

At the end of the game, you'll be finishing off your character's death with a eulogy - a short paragraph describing who they were and what they left behind - before granting them an epitaph - a phrase or word that they'll be remembered by. If this sounds like something you'd like to try out, feel free to give it a go! At the end of the game, you'll be finishing off your character's death with a eulogy - a short paragraph describing who they were and what they left behind - before granting them an epitaph - a phrase or word that they'll be remembered by.

Evil Coffee recipe:

1 to 4 shots of espresso (the stronger the eviler)

Small to medium cup of coffee (should fill about 60% of cup after mixed with espresso)

1 tsp instant coffee

2 tsp brown sugar

1 tsp honey

1-2 tsp cocoa powder

Bit of cream (stir)

From a god's single sigh

wishing for change,

for safety,

the Solace was born.

An indigo mist,

in a cold winter morning,

The Glass Caverns - the caretakers here realized something far greater was beneath them. What had originally housed one of the world's few mega-cities had been, just like everything else, lost to the heavenly hellfire. The truth is similar, but other. A Flora, designated Teeny, seeks a place to root until the fireball above returns. Their usual rooting spot, some nutritious ground with a small stream of water nearby. But today was different. The stream is fading. Teeny finds, following the stream uphill, hurrying as to get there before it disappears. A small door, from whence the water came. Assumed to be a spring, Teeny has prior thought nothing of it. Their little alcove in the Atrium, ever-so-separate from the rest. But today, the door, unlike ever before, is open. And it leads down, designated by a sign.