Tag: Response

Character Death: Most heartbreaking NPC/OC/PC’s who have died in games you’ve played? NPC/OC/PC’s who you celebrated dying in the games you’ve played?

Okay so I have three super heartbreaking rpg moments and one honorable mention. They’re all from Exalted with one exception

And while I’m sure I have really satisfying murder moments I can’t think of any, so I’ll make another post if I think of any.

But I’ve got heartbreakers under the cut due to length.

First: Sherwood’s death. Despite the fact that I had been planning this for quite some time and there had developed a running joke about Sherwood dying every session, nothing seemed to hit harder than Sherwood’s actual passing. Everyone sat in disbelief and I’m pretty sure that I cried. Even today our characters, and by some extension we still feel everything that happened that session.

Sherwood died to ensure that the party stood a chance fighting the Mask of Winters, since Celestial Monkey Form made him immune to the Mask’s attacks of Virtue. We defeated the Mask, but not long ago he reappeared and everyone was pissed. We offered no mercy to him after what happened. To some degree we’re all still mad he had the gaul to show up again.

Second: Matra. Matra was a PC played by @hyperionnebulae and while I’ve kinda promised not to bring this back up/harass her about it I’m going to talk about it now for the sake of answering this question.

Matra still ranks really high on my list as one of my favorite characters. She was precious and adorable and small. She liked to steal shiny things like the belt buckles (and usually the entire belt) of anyone nearby. She treated everyone as a friend and she just meant a lot to me. Sherwood and Marian adored Matra for her bright spirit and her friendly demeanor.

We were in Ahlat’s House of Horrors™ when the place went dark and became a horrific maze. Marian started an awful trend of splitting up the party and by the time we found Matra she was dead: killed by our latest long time antagonist and most hated character, Tentera. It blindsided me and I felt so awful. I still feel awful. Matra deserved so much better.

Third: Jim the Bard. Back when I first met many of my current tabletop group/close friends we played Dungeons and Dragons all weekend, sometimes until five in the morning. At one point, we swapped DMs and allowed a small bit of time for @somewhere-in-the-dungeon to host a story for us. The story took place in a little town besieged by the undead whose appearance by the time we arrived could well have been attributed to the local heroic family: The Whites.

Before we had to deal with horrifying demons, a goblin army, and the undead hoards, however, we met a delightful man in the Tavern named Jim. Jim was a bard who flirted with my PC Wocky: a stocky gnome with red hair who followed the bardic ways herself. Wocky never had intentions to date this guy on any real level (she had her sights on someone else) but she found him sweet and charming. I liked this guy.

Once the Zombies started in we had all made our way to the Inn’s second floor, but that didn’t stop zombies from trying to drag Jim out the window. Wocky tried to save him, but that’s hard to do when you’re a three foot tall gnome who put all of their focus into charisma. In the end she let go of Jim to save herself. He returned later as a Wight and once more offered his hand to Wocky, but she refused. Her heart hurt at the idea, but she could not give herself up to the undead.

As much as I hate to give Dungeon the self satisfaction, I still hate him for making me like Jim the Bard.

Honorable Mention: Junko. Back in first campaign of Exalted, @greensunprincess threw together an NPC named Junko who was meant to be a one off character. Another PC fell in love with her and she ended up tagging along for some time. She had a very spunky personality and I think she peed on the party Lunar because they didn’t like each other. We all loved Junko. One night we were fighting an immaculate monk and he let off an AOE attack that left most of the party badly injured. When GSP rolled the dice for the damage against Junko, she froze. She told us softly that Junko took too much damage and died. There wasn’t a dry eye at the table. None of us saw it coming and we all loved her so much.
We then discovered GSP had made a calculative error and Junko ended up barely surviving.

Did you draw your don’t starve character yourself? (I’m betting you did)Would you be willing to do a Don’t Starve Character Comission? I can do all of the programming, I’m just not very artistic.

montythepirate:

I’d totally do them for a commission, It’s just a matter of me having to do a lot of fine-tuning with monty but when I figure that out i’d be so up for it.

 and i’d be willing to also try and do the programming stuff to for those who don’t know how, it’d just be more bc it takes a bit of time

I’ll tag you if I post prices for them, but i’m glad to see you’re interested! 

I look forward to the possibility! Your little character just looks so well done!

Ahoy! I’ve been scrolling down my dash and thinking “I’ve been having such a great day. I hope my friends are also having great days,” and so I was very pleased indeed to see that things are going so well for you. Maybe this positive vibes thing is more powerful than I dared imagine! (Mad cackling). I hope that the happy times keep going, and you continue to have so much to be excited about.

Oh man I giggled at this! You’re great, you know what?

I hope you don’t mind I’m posting this, but you’re prolly right on the whole positive vibes thing! I’m gonna use this as a way to project my own positive vibes out into the world.

And honestly, I extend the same hopes to you my friend, cheers to happy times and much excitement!

ryumarumg:

summoner-starlight:

ryumarumg:

summoner-starlight:

Tfw you discover Sabriel is some sort of Supernatural ship name

Y’see whenever I see you talking about Sabriel I have to remind myself that you’re talking about your character and not one of Garth Nix’s.

She’s not even my character she’s @hyperionnebulae ‘s Exalted character

Who is named for this Garth Nix character you speak of apparently

Would “your” Sabriel happen to be a necromancer of any stripe? Because that would explain the link.

No, Sabriel would best be declared as a Beast Master

She’s an Akuma of a Yozi named Coyote and she uses masks to create animal spirit things to do her bidding. She’s also the party priest/healer/heavily armored guardian

But hyperionne mentioned to me in a skype call that she took the name from this Garth Nix source

Truthfully, I wouldn’t put it past Sabriel to both learn necromancy and find practical application for it

Marty McFly and Magic Mike (Bonus if together) ;P

((The following is by no means canon))

“Okay officer, I will admit that I am drunk right now, but that is the dumbest idea have

I ever heard.”

Despite his better judgement, Doyle took another sip from his flask. His gaze drifted to a lone piece of dust floating in the corner of the interrogation room. When was the last time anyone had cleaned this place?
When Xanthe didn’t respond, Doyle continued, “I don’t even know how you figured out I could do that. Hell, I don’t even know how I figured out I could do that.” He went to take another drink but Xanthe swatted the flask from his hand. The contents inside the flask spilled to the floor.

“Listen up you obnoxious whelp,” Xanthe growled. He wasn’t sure how much more of Doyle’s attitude he could take. “If you don’t send me back I’ll have you thrown in prison.”
Doyle rolled his eyes. “For what?”
“Public drunkenness,” Xanthe answered. Doyle’s face remained unamused. He continued, “and illegal necromancy.”

“That’s bullshit!” Doyle cried. He slammed his hands on the table and stood up. “You an’ I an’ you both know I can’t make goddamn zombies!”
Xanthe grinned. “Oh, sure, but it’s the best way to make sure you’re magic’s all locked up until there are laws about Chronomancy.” He laughed to himself. “Besides, that’s an easy enough bit to pull off.”

Doyle sighed, defeated. “Fine,” he said. “Lets…lets just be quick, yeah? Far as I’m concerned this stuffs only good for makin’ sure the milk don’t spoil.”

Doyle gestured for Xanthe to put his hands on the table. The pair locked eyes, as best as Doyle could, and breathed in sync with one another.
Doyle gave instruction, “you gotta focus on the exact time and place or this’ll get messy. Trust me, you don’t want it to get messy.”
Xanthe nodded and the lights in the interrogation room went out.

The world went dark.

When Xanthe awoke his head was pounding. His stomach lurched and the room felt like it was spinning.
“You okay, sug?” a voice echoed off the walls.
When the world around him evened out he took in his surroundings. The room he was in was dark, with the exception of blue and red neon lights granting enough light by which to see. Beneath him was carpet, and the smell of booze hung in the air. He couldn’t find Doyle, but the voice he had heard came from an older looking woman. She was dressed like a tart, short skirt and too much makeup. She offered him a hand.
“Can ya stand up?”

Xanthe took her hand and stood.

He realized that the pounding in his head was moreso the sound of the heavy bass music carrying itself through the establishment. The woman smiled at him.
“Well thank the stars, I’d cut back on the drinks honey.” Her expression was warm. “You need me to call a cab?”
Xanthe shook his head. “No, I’m all right.” His diction was perfect. His head cleared more now that he was standing, and the woman must have noted this. She nodded and headed off down a red lit hallway.

It had worked.

Xanthe didn’t even care about finding Doyle. He raced off down a blue hall into a large open room with a stage on the south wall. Spotlights gleamed down, reflecting off the erect pole at center stage, the the glistening skin of the man hanging from it. Even now Xanthe could not avoid the blush that came to his cheeks as he watched the stripper perform. Sweat from the workout and the stage lights shone like dew in his raven hair all swooped back out of his face. He twisted and turned to face the audience, a scar visible just below the eyepatch over his left eye.

Esial.

Xanthe took a seat and watched the whole performance; moved by the astounding grace and entranced by his sculpted body. It was enough to make him want to faint again, but he had work to do.

He snuck to the back room once the display was over, careful not to grab any wary attention, and peered inside. Esial was alone. He knocked.
“Just a minute!” Esial called. Xanthe opened the door anyway. Esial turned and his face fell first into astonishment and then into anger. “What the heck are you doing here?”
“Essy, please,” Xanthe started. Esial stood up.
“Don’t you Essy me! Get the heck out of here! Security!” Esial called. Xanthe knew he didn’t have long.

“Essy, I want to apologize!” Xanthe pleaded.

Esial raised a brow.