blood bowl but for cricket, is that a thing?
It'll still have explicit rules for when to take a break for tea right?

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@noxumbre
blood bowl but for cricket, is that a thing?
It'll still have explicit rules for when to take a break for tea right?

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Allegations of traumadumping in the indie tabletop RPG design space are always fun because at least half the time, the game about people being forced to kill each other with hammers is genuinely just a diverting thought experiment, while the author's actual traumadump game is the one with, like, fluffy bunnies and shit.
Do you have something to say about Costume Fairy Adventures?
No, Saulot is not the progenitor of the Baali.
That's just Tremere propaganda, and the Tremere are motivated to lie both by political expedience and the many infernalists among their ranks. So, the nature of the baali is inherently tied to the nature of the demon-things they worship/serve/placate, the Children, right?
So to understand them, we need to understand the nature of the Children. So what are they?
They dwell outside or below reality, in the darkness, but can be pulled through to the real world. WoD cosmology then. We can ignore sideways (that's werewolf/changeling territory), and up (mage shit), and concentrate on down. On spiritual descent, into the lower realms.
So, if we go spiritually down, we first pass through the underworld (of wraith). Here, we see reality unravel more and more, becoming chaotic and indistinct. Far enough down, the boundry of self/not-self breaks down between inhabitants, resulting in the hive-mind shared by spectres and the dissolution of self that is harrowings in the labyrinth.
Then down further. The well of oblivion, the obliteration of self entirely. Down further. Plumetting through oblivion, the rift in the bottom of reality, and out into... what? the empty void, the dark outside creation. The Abyss.
This is the abyss of the lasombra abyss mystics, and the abyss that demons are consigned to. This is the outer dark where the Children dwell. This is the un-space that the neverborn - the oldest spectres that were never living, never of creation - spawn from. This is where demons writhe in the darkness, where there is no time or space or self or other, only formless endless chaos.
The Children are Demons are the Neverborn are all the same entities.
Creation is existance, definition, distinction - the light seperated from the shadow. To be outside creation is to lose the distinction of self and other. To defy creation is to seek to tear down that boundary, so that all is a single primordial whole, as it was before God seperated the heavens from the abyssal waters.
We see this in the hive-minded aspects of the baali, their affinity for swarming vermin, their propensity for plague and decay. Even their path is called The Road Of The Hive, and encourages them to let go of their ego and immerse themselves in the will of their greater hive.
That's what a Baali Well Of Sacrifice is, a space where reality is so torn that the victims within merge into a single potent psychic force that can be harnessed.
This is why the branch of the baali that successfully contacted one of their masters and harnessed its power - the Nergali - are much more aligned to disease and entropy than their less far-gone rivals in the Molochim.
This is why, unique among vampires, the Baali can re-embrace to assimilate other clans into their own number.
The nature of the primordial infernal abyss is to form hive-minds that propagate, infect, and assimilated into themselves. See the baali. See the spectral hive-mind. See the abyss-things. This is what the lasombra gaze into, and why a branch of their clan, the angelis ater, joined the baali after they saw too much and were assimilated.
You see the shape of things forming, yes?
Now, we turn our attention to the other hive-mind that vampires know of: the Assaku. Part path, part sentient discipline, part hive-mind, part disease. An infected vampire becomes taken over by the Assaku, integrated into it, becoming simply one pinion on the wing of the Assaku, and the Assaku that we see is not the full organism; that is some spiritual thing that originates outside reality. The Assaku is a demonic taint, an unholy hive-mind. The Assaku spreads via a discipline.
Which discipline? We see more clearly, yes?
Which discipline is seen as infectious, to the extent that the clan who wield it have a splinter bloodline who reject it outright for its impurity? The shape grows clearer, yes?
Which clan practice a sorcery that communes very literally with a slumbering earthbound demon? With a branch of that sorcery devoted to those wells-of-sacrifice where reality is torn apart and the hive seeps in? The shape comes into focus, does it not?
Which clan took in the molochim baali and protected them, and which clan sponsored their integration into the true black hand? Which clan practice demonic magic? Which clan discovered how to form the hive-pack of the vaudlerie? Which clan fuse their slaves together into shuddering war-things, a chorus of minds all blurred into one flesh? You see what I also see now, don't you?
Which clan founder - like the nergali - dug up a sleeping buried demon-thing, and formed a pact with it, becoming unclean? Which clan founder seeks to integrate all life into itself? Which clan founder traffics with demons? Which clan founder was, even in life, a sinner so great that many considered it inhuman? Which clan founder's blood taints all its descendents so that it might absorb them into its burgeoning mass as it grows, fungus-like, in the dark beneath the earth?
Which antediluvian created vicissitude, the discipline that is the vanguard of the Assaku-hive?
Which clan are called fiends?
You see it, yes? The Baali were created by the Tzimisce Eldest. There is no other explanation.
wasn't kuldonic sorcery also used in making the blood brothers?
everyone should have a balanced diet of both good music and music that fucking sucks. it's healthy. get over it.
Sisters can perform miracles sometimes. What's a little nurgle rot to some drunken faith?

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Violet Core Approaches
So. My close friend and collaborator Sarah Carapace has been working on Violet Core - a ttrpg about dykey mecha pilots in space - for the past few years, and that work is approaching its fruition. It's about to get kickstarted pretty soon, and I got a preview copy of the game ahead of that. So, preview/review I shall.
Disclaimers: I'm close friends with Sarah, was involved in some of the early playtests, and might end up doing a stretch goal for the game. So, I am of course wildly biased in Sarah's favour. Still, even if I wasn't, I figure this'd be my jam.
TL,DR: This game is really really good, back the kickstarter. For more details, read on.
So. Mechanics for this game I'm working on.
Start with a roughly OSR-shaped set of expectations. Classes, levels, XP-for-treasure, hit dice, etc. That gives you a good skeleton for what's here. There's some key differences.
when changing your Nature to undead upon dying, does the text hold preference for rolling what Nature you come back as or is it meant as player's choice/most fitting the source of death?
wearing protection (industrial exosuit) to fuck my girlfriend (secret military project murder robot who went rogue)
(it won't be enough (i should have invested in some proper power armour))
CONNIE PANZARINO at a pride march in Boston circa 1990
the cyborg & the crip by Alison Kafer
[id for first image: a fat pale dyke in a (i think) sip-and-puff powered wheelchair, covered in blankets, out on the street. they're wearing a dark green paper crown and glasses, and sporting closely shaved dark hair and a big grin. several tubes disappear behind their chair in an elegant tangle. above them is a big sign on neon green paper that reads: Trached Dykes Eat Pussy Without Comin Up For Air! the text is followed by a pink triangle with the disabled symbol (person in wheelchair) in its center. they are accompanied by another pale dyke with very blonde hair. /end id.]
there are no words for how often i think about this tweet

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you came back wrong and i am racked with guilt because i cannot bear to see you like this and i should have let you rest. i loved you so much that i defied death itself but i do not think either of us are happy
this is what microwaving leftover pizza feels like
stop it i was trying to be gothic
Hannibal invites Gordon Ramsay for dinner; it does not go well. Based on
This is the best gif set ever, I’m done.
I really want Gordon Ramsay to be a guest star on Hannibal.
“What the fuck am I eating?”
Every day I mourn not being in the Hannibal fandom in 2013
Toxic yuri must be evenly balanced. Both lesbians/bisexuals involved must be equally deranged in different ways. No sunshine cinnamon roll meets grumpy ice queen bullshit in this house. Power dynamics might be uneven but not one-sided throughout. We are sicko4sicko only in this house.
If anything, calling something "cringe" is an admission of weakness on the part of the speaker. Like, buddy, if that makes you cringe, just wait 'til I get going!
few things as attractive as an autistic girl who's annoying as fuck
this is for real btw. text me all hours, overshare, be messy, cringe, infodump about anything, *especially* stuff i don't have any stake in. my urge to love every molecule that comprises you grows with each notification.

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my homunculus just wasted like $60 in ink printing out all these fucking soyjack edits of me. how about 'that feel when i dont feed you for a week' you little asshole
Again on Lesbian Vampires
Imagine being in a vampire club, your friends dragged you there and left you behind. You don't really know what to do with yourself and go to the bar to order yourself a drink.
At the bar, a beautiful woman approaches you. She has long black hair, pale skin like the moon, and piercing blue eyes that seem to want to devour your soul...
"Are you all alone here, pretty thing?" she purred. You sighed. "My friends are somewhere here, I assume. I lost them." She came closer to you and sat down next to you. "So you are a little lost lamb? Let me guide you, little lamb. I will bring you somewhere safe." Her voice was entrancing, and you were feeling brave. So you took her hand and followed her.
She brought you to a room, private and silent, pulling you on to a Sofa, sitting you on her lap. "May I?" She asked as she leaned forward to kiss your neck. You nodded, feeling all hot and aroused. She kissed your neck, nibbled on your skin and then pulled you down. She kissed you hard and needy, her lips devourd you, her tongue plundered your mouth. You melted into putty in her hands.
Just mere moments later her fangs were in you neck, she drank your blood. You moaned and leanded into her, her arms wrapped around you, holding you still. Her hands wandered, igniting a fite between your legs. Whimpers left your lips, there was a smile forming on hers.
When she was sated she let go of you, wiping your neck clean and kissing you again. "Such a good little lamb, shall I take you home and make you my pet?" She asked you with a chuckle and when you nodded...
Well you made her day...night, then. You didn't expect for her to lift you up and bring you to a dark car thriugh the back enterance....