Ireena the conspiracy theorist!
made by one of my players for a 80s themed curse of strahd game
artist: @hareofhrair
A formal invite to a Curse of Strahd game, every 8:30 pm CST saturday/sunday
understandableparadox reblogged
Help Me Choose An Internet Stunt
I want to do something crazy to try and raise money to make my life less bad! Proceeds go to: getting a cleaning service to un-fuck my depression nest, buying a self cleaning litterbox, and food!
So here's the concepts that are in the lead so far:
Curse of Strahd Any% Randomizer with Ice Traps— I DM my very first ttrpg, and it’s curse of strahd, but the plot elements, characters, and encounters have all been randomized, I’m marathoning till we kill strahd but the pool of players drops in and out as they feel like it, and also chat can donate to hassle everyone in dubiously humorous ways. Pros: could be real funny? Cons: could go on actually forever and then I’d die. All the players decide to go have lives at the same time and i have to play by myself. Also I still haven’t finished the curse of strahd campaign I’m in so I’d get spoiled :( --Some of my friends I play DnD with seem interested in this one, so that's good! This is definitely the nuttiest option that would require the most work and has the highest potential for being a complete disaster.
First Boss Boss Rush— I play a bunch of games trying to get to and beat the first boss as fast as possible. Pros: likely to take a long time and be very entertaining to people who enjoy watching people be bad at video games. Cons: might suck for anyone who does not like watching people be bad at video games. --Need to work on a list of games for this. Thinking Hades, Cult of the Lamb, that kind of thing. What are some games with notoriously pain in the ass bosses?
Modathon— I start a game of Fallout 4 or Skyrim and at every donation milestone add more mods until the game crashes or I complete it. Any% to start, stretch goal for 100% --I'd make it New Vegas but that shit is so unstable to start with I worry we wouldn't get far lmao.
I Make A Quilt— I learn how to quilt and marathon until the fucking quilt is done. Donation incentives to make me watch the Room while quilting. For every fifty dollars I add another square. Pros: i have. a quilt at the end. Cons: probably boring. Hand pain. --This one isn't a complete ass pull. I recently inherited a ton of quilting supplies and I need to learn anyway so I can help finish a relative's legacy project, for anyone worried I was foolishly offering to jump empty handed into a craft that requires an enormous initial investment. I'm just foolishly offering to marathon an incredibly labor intensive project that generally takes even skilled craftsmen months of work!
That quilt is beginning to really worry me…
Yall have two hours left to save me from the quilt!!
Curse of strahd dm grindset routine
i wake up after sleeping 8 hours upside down, need to know how it feels for the flying mammellian homies
first things first, my phone plays the extended batty rap from fern gully then Toxic love from the same movie, alternating so i can get the twin extremes, the music exhilarates me.
I have the gym and hit fifty BLEH BLEH BLEH!'s in a row, fifty standing coffin rises, fifty hiding my face from the sun with my clock, the blood is pumping, hit me up BS'ers... (blood suckers)
after my work out, i hit the showers and sit curled up, attempting to fathom living hundreds of years with my mistakes, letting the water be cold as ice so i know how the homies feel.
time to put in the work, i study the dragnacarter curse of strahd reloaded, interactive tome of strahd, van richtens guide to ravenloft and the original curse of strahd at the same time while, i have forced myself to sprout an additional four eyes to keep up.
Follow absoloutly none of it and write whatever the fuck i wanted to do anyways while sneakily stealing the cool shit from whatever book im reading through. the mind is Sharp.
Blair 80s music as i go through it all and make it properly 80s themed, i dont wear my thick legging because i live in texas and that may kill me.
spend 10 hours figureing out how i can psychologically fuck with my players while stareing at a david bowie poster i drew lil fangs on, gygax may have hated women but he was right about one thing... its us vs them. and im here to Lose baby, im training to lose so fucking hard.
i end the day practicing my shocked face when the players use the overpowered item i gave them to defeat my boss encounter i worked way to hard on, fifty reps of course, cant let the body think that just because the suns down its time to power down.
strahd has a castle in my mind, need to write some vampire bullshit: The vampires masochistic waltz
the stab of wood through the heart was a delicacy, a fine dish served only at the end of a whirlwind of fate and madness. saved only for when he had come to the end of the rope of treachery and backstabs and hundreds of years worth of monotony.
they scream in your face, tears running hot down their face, cutting tracks and washing away a small bit of blood from their visage. the sound filled with a full year of pent up fury at the indignities you have served them. yet it was mixed with a release, a grasping of a conclusion for the better.
as they push the stake of hawthorn through your chest, into your heart, it pushes blood through your form. for a second you can almost pretend the heat of pain that shocks through the nerves of your form is that of blood, you can almost pretend that the dust that collects in your veins as it shifts is instead of a flowing river of living ichor that you have grown to covet so dearly.
You are paralyzed. layed to rest in a coffin that you foolishly always retreat to when your form has been battered and bruised so expertly. you could have hidden, flee to the cults that revere you off in the forests and yet you can not break the steps of your dance. your eyes trail from your killer to those behind them. faces and names bubble to the surface but they are but masks. you have seen them prior and you will see them again. the only thing that changes is the beautiful masks they choose for themselves. the names they leave on your lips, the story they weave around your hearts, dragging you towards the vary first steps in a long and tiresome dance.
stabbed by a knight, a machine, a noble, an outcast, a thief, a scholar and hunters alike. each one in their magnificent crescendo of righteous anger blessing you with a heart beat to pretend at the moment of your momentary death that you are once again alive. its so sort, its so temporary. yet that is how it must be. You need to chase it again.
they leave the stake in your heart, you watch hundreds of years worth of magic unravel from this place, you watch beams of sunlight gently tracing their way through your resting champers, fingers of gold whose burn you have felt so little a mere few inches away from the open lid of the coffin. instead haloing the fair heroes as they embrace and celebrate the end of their nightmare.
they are closing the coffin lid, you are not given permission to move your eyes to fully drink in the final looks of hatred and spite, of pity, of smug satisfaction, of weary relief. you would have you wait, you would have to lay and dream until permitted awakening. to wake up with blood and heart and dreams and innocence and malice of a soul rotten deigned to forever dance to a cruelly beautiful symphony.
all you can do to satisfy this weary need is to dream. you dream of what your partners will come as next, what masks they will have, what names they will wear, what stories they will concoct. the weapons they will find, the ones left here by whatever forces coyly drag you back to a point of origins. how will they come about? for a moment you can feel yourself hurdling towards primordial recreation.
though the souls of such fine heros leave, barovia must return to how it was, it must recreate itself. just like you, it has an insatiable thirst to be explored, to have each and every one of its secrets uncovered and thrown into light. to be perceived and conquered.
its going dark. your consciousness reaches numbness as the darkness of your conscious drags in the world around it. the bricks of your fathers castle, the streets of barovia. you are given care by only the lullabyes of the crows, the wolfs and the rats. their cries small yet as the world unravels its walls they reach you in these final seconds.
Maybe this time you'll play a guitar.
understandableparadox reblogged
Content Label: Mature: Violence, Sexual Themes
My chewtoy (:
Content Label: Mature
Violence, Sexual themes
bro its me, gay strahd, let me in.
no no im not lieing, i promise im a flamboyent gay vampire from the populer dungeons and dragons game. look through the lil hole in the door, i have fucking fangs and everything dude, let me in and we can have a dubious romance and shit.
what no bro i promise im not going to beat you within an inch of your life,
if you are a lesbian strahdanya is here to and again, just to reiterate, we are not going to fucking beat the shit out of you if you open the door and let us inside
im gearing up to run my own curse of strahd game so i started reading through strahd reloaded and i just got hit by this hell line
FUCKING KILL ME, IM NOT PLAYING STRAHD LIKE THAT, AAAAHHHHH
EDIT: IT GETS WORSE WHAT THE FUCK