Just a bit too much me~

These are what I would consider to be the most basic, bare-bones questions of character creation.

What would completely break your character?

What was the best thing in your character’s life?

What was the worst thing in your character’s life?

What seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character?

Does your character work so that they can support their hobbies or use their hobbies as a way of filling up the time they aren’t working?

What is your character reluctant to tell people?

How does your character feel about sex?

How many friends does your character have?

How many friends does your character want?

What would your character make a scene in public about?

What would your character give their life for?

What are your character’s major flaws?

What does your character pretend or try to care about?

How does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they actually project?

What is your character afraid of?

What is something most people in your setting do that your character things is dumb?

Modders:

I wish I could still watch the twilight with my best friend if she were still here. My dog passed away 2 years ago and I still miss her everyday. 

anyway i go in to see paul one week in the summer of 2016, and i’m doing my usual bullshit which consists of me talking shit about myself, and paul is staring at me, and then he cuts me off and says that he’s got a new tool for helping people recognize when they’re using negative language, and gets up and goes over to his desk

and i’m like alright hit me with that sweet sweet self-help article my man, because i’m a linguistic learner and whenever paul’s like here i have a tool for you to use it’s pretty much always an article or a book or something

paul opens a drawer, takes something out, and turns back around. i stare.

i say, paul.

is that a nerf gun.

yeah, says paul.

i say, are you gonna shoot me with a nerf gun in this professional setting.

he happily informs me that that’s really up to me, isn’t it. and sits back down. and gestures, like, go ahead, what were you saying?

and i squint suspiciously and start back up about how i’m having too much anxiety to leave the house to run errands, like it was a miracle to even get here, like i’ve forgone getting groceries for the past week and that’s so stupid, what a stupid issue, i’m an idiot, how could i–

a foam dart hits me in the leg.

i go, hey! because my therapist just shot me in the leg. paul blinks at me placidly and raises an eyebrow. i squint again.

i say, slowly, it’s– not a stupid issue, i’m not stupid, but it’s frustrating me and i don’t want it to be a problem i’m having.

no dart this time. okay. sweet.

so the rest of the hour passes with me intermittently getting nailed with tiny foam darts and then swearing and then fixing my language and, wouldn’t you know it, i start liking myself a little more by the end of the session, which is mildly infuriating because paul can tell and he’s very smug about it 

Now here is her reaction when I ask her if “she’s ready” before I throw it. She knows what it means.

because “pussy” is the shortened form of the word “pusillanimous”, which means “timid, cowardly”

Some other gems by Tomislac Jagnjic: