Context: In a new campaign, I was playing Orphea, a Draconic Kitsune Sorcerer who’s backstory is basically Indiana Jones. The rest of the group included an Assimar Inquisitor named Ash, a Dwarven Cleric named Han, an amnesiac Investigator called Boyar, and tank played by the GM called Ajaxx (who had no in character lines here). We came across a “giant snow weasel”, about the size of a horse or bear, that had killed a guy. The following exchange happened.
Orphea: Do we really have to kill it? I mean, won’t the Druids complain?
Ash: They’ll get over it.
Orphea: I mean, it could be the last of its kind.
Han: Not nessacarily, its probably not from around here anyways. It likely came from the portal we heard was around here.
Orphea: IT BELONGS IN A MEUSUM!
Boyar: You really want to keep it don’t you?
Needless to say, after fighting the weasel; despite knocking it out with non-lethal we had another conversation:
Orphea: Right, now we just need to tie it up and carry it around long term as we try to tame it.
Hans: And how exactly are you going to carry it?
Orphea: Didn’t the guy he killed come in on a sled?
Boyar: Or you can just drag it.
GM: … The giant weasel explodes.
In any case, we found its baby… Which is now my familiar. Other short highlights from the session could be summed up as follows:
GM: The cold fey creature swears that death will descend upon you all, and you shall all freeze in the coming winter.
Orphea: I lean down to its cage and say “would you like to repeat that?” *Rolls high on intimidation*
GM: It starts to say it again, but stops and sinks back into its cage.
Orphea: “That’s what I thought.”
… Back to the Weasel…
Orphea: (ooc) I roll to intimidate the Giant Weasel. *Nat 20*
Then shortly after… During a completely different encounter…
GM: So, Ajaxx runs away frightened from the ghosts, and refuses to go any further.
Orphea: (ooc) I roll to intimidate the ghosts. *Nat 20 again* Holy S***! Another crit!
Ash: (ooc) Pretty sure undead are immune to fear.
GM: Despite everyone around you being shaken by your display, you do not intimidate the ghosts.
After spending almost all year travelling the world with Ford, Stan is happy to be back in the comfort of his home. Retired and looking forward to a week of blissful domestic relaxation before the twins return to stay for the summer, the last thing he expected to turn up on his doorstep was Rick Sanchez. No seriously, just who is this guy? Can he help Stan remember that large gap in his long-term memories that Ford and the kids couldn’t fill? Does Stan even want to remember?
Here’s a condensed version of my ideas about the characters’ roles in the Jurassic Portal AU! I took out a few details/spoilers in case I do write this whole thing out, but otherwise this is everything! I think casting the characters was fun and fairly easy - it’s just making the details of the story work that’s a little harder. But I like a challenge. If any of you folks have ideas for how to improve this, feel free to let me know~
Ok, not portal but god I’m so gay for shipping Miss Pauling and The Administrator. I am seriously disappointed in the lack of content and I could probably gush about these two quite a bit if you prompt me cause damn. If I felt like I had a better grasp on the characters I would most definitely write something for them.
High above the Seireitei, but just within the boundaries of its barrier, a black-colored portal opened up. A small one, probably no bigger than a person, and it didn’t stay for long. With a blast of air, it spat out a humanoid-shape aimed directly towards the ground, and vanished.
The shape went hurdling through the air like a torpedo before landing in a koi pond near the 6th Division.
“Ghhh…” Kew reached up and grabbed the edge of the pond, dragging himself halfway onto the land. Talk about a rocky start… The water hadn’t been deep enough to completely shield his fall, so he had to use his barrier, which didn’t shield pain. Now everything hurt like hell… And with the overwhelming smells of powerful souls flooding his nose, he got a feeling this wasn’t a place he should be.
Rolling himself fully onto solid ground (and kicking away a koi he dragged up with him), Kew forced himself onto his feet and braced himself to run. One of those souls smelled like it was dangerously close…