@is-it-a-man But... if Amaury Guichon makes himself a really, really good pair of wings out of chocolate...
I swear to god one of these days were going to see a video of Amaury Guichon and he's going to be making some wings and they are going to look dope as hell, the detail of each feather will be breathtaking, he'll spray paint them to perfection, but as the video goes on, he's not building any sort of winged creature, just the wings. And then there's a human-sized harness (also made of chocolate, somehow, he can do it). And he's attaching the wings to the harness. And he's putting the harness on and he demonstrates how he can flap the wings. And then he'll be off. Out the window and up and up and up. And we'll be looking at the livestream (it's a livestream now) and we'll scream "No, Amaury, the sun! It's going to melt the wings!". But he knows this already. And he is free.
@glitzbot
Revisiting the drow, playing some more with uncanny bird anatomy.
Dark eyes open in what the adventurers thought was a tree. Now fully alert, they can easily make out the massive, spreading colossus staring down at them. It speaks to them in a deep groan that echoes through the misty forest.
The Mercenary stammers as he steps forward. "We... we didn't mean--"
"Oh."
Now that we've discovered the First-Ever Complaint Letter, perhaps we will discover other firsts among ancient cuneiform tablets baked in long-long-ago city fires. Like, oh, I don't know... How about the First-Recorded Karen?
"O, Tara-Nuwusu, since your father's death, you are the head of your household, and as such, we, the elders of the town, implore you to curb your venerable mother's behavior. Her sharp tongue and endless demands are an affliction to us all. Day after day, she lurks at the gate of the town, seeking those with whom she may take offense and make undignified scenes. Please, Tara-Nuwusu, [...] diligently, for the sake of your name and lineage, and speak to your mother, and [...] to her that she cannot insist on [?receiving] goods without price, as compensation for ill-treatment she has [?imagined/?alleged], nor may she overturn the stalls of vendors who refuse her demands. O, Tara-Nuwusu, we do not wish to bind and confine your venerable mother, but she daily [...] peace of the city with her behavior, and if you cannot control her, we must regretfully subject you and your family to [?humiliation]."
Image by Bharat S Raj, CC BY-SA 3.0
snack time!
When Kyana was sitting up on that spire, and Davian flew by in his Hummingbird, and they had a little conversation, I really enjoyed the moment the two characters had. It was one of the most interesting and satisfying one-on-ones in the first campaign.
I like to think that at some point after the Beastlands, Davian visited the Grand Arena, and ended up facing Kyana. Kyana didn't quite roflstomp him -- Davian drew a little blood, from the one hit he got in, and Kyana had it treated nonmagically, so she could bear the scar as a memento.
Nerf that Ring of Flight by making it the ring itself that flies, while wearing it, you can move the ring through the air in any direction at will. How the character manages to keep the ring on their finger, and their finger on their hand, is the player's problem.
I'll say it again, it's the way she treated Loona at the party that makes her so hot.
Queen bee
if i had a time machine and i wanted to absolutely destroy an ancient emperor or king, i would take them to the shark tunnel of an aquarium. giving them an ozymandias view of their legacy would do nothing, they can see that all empires rot just by looking around them. but the shark tunnel of an aquarium is something they haven’t seen before, something no one has seen before, something magnificent that they could build with technology only slightly out of their reach. they would bankrupt their nation trying to recreate that shark tunnel for themself. their dynasty would collapse within three generations, and, if heaven is on my side, they themself will be eaten by a shark to the delight of generations of historians to come
I have thousands of shitposts, rants, and essays sitting in notebooks, left over from decades of not using social media or having many friends. Hold on tight.
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