Hello @Jonil02

Hello

(why am I nervous about this)

I dunno! :P

Anyways, as ready as can be 😄

Alright. So on genesysemporium, there is a tab for "import/export"

Can you export your character and send me the file?

Awesome.

Now, time for some question and answer. :P

Yes! No. Maybe? I don't know

One: On a scale of 1 to 5, with 1 being not at all, 3 being somewhat, and 5 being extremely, how materialistic would you say Mikael is?

2

Two: On a scale of 1 to 5, with 1 being very weak, 3 being moderate, and 5 being very strong, how strong would you say Mikael's sense of curiosity is?

3

Last question: On a scale of 1 to 5, with 1 being 'would rather not', 3 being 'indifferent' and 5 being 'hell yeah', how eager would you say Mikael is to experience/try new things?

4

Cool

Alright. What transpires in this pre-session is strictly confidential

You may allude to certain things, but there are questions you can't ask other players or questions you can't answer from other players based on the laws of the Grey City. :P.

o7 Yes Sir

Starting now.

Time seems to slow, drawing the loud whoosh of the alcohol catching fire into a low drone. Frozen, seemingly, in a single moment, you are able to watch the rippling curtain of fire as it approaches you. The heat you can feel against your skin, intensifies with each slow heartbeat, but you know that there is nothing that you can do.

You scarcely cover your face with your arms as the conflagration consumes you. Fire laps at your exposed flesh and the threads of your clothing. The heat isn't that bad at first, but the gentle warmth quickly gives way to liquid agony. Your heart beats but it doesn't feel like it is pumping blood through your body, only pain. You scream until your throat is raw, and claw at your skin as it sloughs off your bones. You struggle to remain conscious but you know it is a fight you will not win. The edges of your vision blur and a heartbeat later, the world goes black.

When you come to, you are in another place entirely. As you pick yourself up off the floor, you can feel it under your fingers. It is smooth, slick, and somewhat damp. The scent of tobacco and alcohol lingers in the air, but also the smell of burnt flesh and the a faint hint of smoke. You feel dull pain throughout your body, but otherwise you appear to be whole, and hale.

The only light that streams into this room comes from the gap between two heavy curtains ahead of you. It is an angry reddish-yellow brightness that falls in a single beam upon a stone pedestal, upon which a small golden fruit levitates two inches above the pitted stone surface. The fruit glints in the light as it slowly bobs up and down, rotating in midair.

I take a minute trying to process what just happened, and trying to figure out where I am. After seeing the apple I slowly start walking towards it

Your footsteps echo dully in the chamber as you clamber to your feet and walk toward the pedestal. A quiet breeze stirs through the room as the darkness around you deepens. The bottom hem of the curtains sways at the behest of the wind and the light pulses almost insistently. At the centre of your vision, the fruit, no larger than a plump cherry, gleams ever so enticingly in the periphery of your vision.

As you warily watch the fruit, you hear voices whispering in the draft winding through the room. The wind caresses your skin with a cool, dead touch, as a sudden desire to pick the fruit from its position manifests in the pit of your stomach like a slimy worm twisting in your gut.

With so many emotions virling around my head and heart, my whole body, I listen to the only one I can feel clearly, however faint it is. I reach out towards the fruit to try and pick it up

Your fingers close around the small golden fruit. Its surface is covered in a slick, oily substance that stains your fingers, making them shimmer with a rainbow iridescence in the angry reddish-yellow light. You can smell the sweet delectable scent of the fruit as you bring it closer to your body, but at the same time you become aware of the tarry black malice hidden beneath its flesh, pulsing almost like the beating of a sinister, putrefied heart.

Your earlier desire to touch the fruit twists into a curdled, horrid craving to eat it. The sensation is so alien that your base instincts balk at the thought, but with each passing moment your mind becomes all too eager to try it. (I will have you make a roll at this point)

== GAME TEXT ==

Make a Discipline or Cool check, your choice

Hard difficulty ( )

With one setback die ()

Okey, let's see how to do this

Which skill are you choosing?

Cool thank you

Alright. So your genesysemporium sheet should already tell you which dice you need to add to the dice pool ( )

Mhm

Alright. So, the command that you want to input is !r 2y 1g 3p 1k

Oh oops

Wait

It's the other way around

!r y2 g1 p3 k1

!r y2 g1 p3 k1

(edited)

@Jonil02, results:

1

Oof

Alright

== END GAME TEXT ==

You regard the fruit for a moment, your insides in turmoil. Your every instinct, your conscience, it all screams at you to stop. But your desires, twisted and warped beyond recognition, growing with every moment, whispering an alluring temptation in your ear tell you to eat it. You want to. You feel in your heart that it's a bad idea. But you can't resist.

The eagerness, the joy, the ecstasy that you can feel through the malice thrumming in the fruit's putrefied heart is reflected in you as you bring it up to your lips. You revel in the dark sensation, in the surrender to temptation. You roll the fruit on your tongue, relishing the texture of its skin before you bite down. The bittersweet tang of the fruit floods your senses and oil, viscous like honey, drips down the back of your throat to settle in the pit of your stomach as white-hot, glorious agony courses through your entire being.

The curtains fly open to reveal a vast, scattered, broken cityscape adrift in a void of angry reddish-golden light. A dying star pulses weakly in the distance, its sickly radiance washing over the city in waves that seem to carry plumes of dust away from the crumbling buildings. A sphere of reddish-orange light rises from beneath the window, encircled by turning wheels of glittering gold covered in eyes that dart around in a crazed frenzy.

A piercing, cackling laughter that makes your ears bleed and turns your insides to mush makes the room around you tremble. Cracks crisscross on the floor, walls, and ceiling. Dust rains on you from above as the star in the distance pulses one last time and the world around you is consumed by blinding, burning light. (Not yet done. By that I mean you can reply but the pre-session is not yet over.) (edited)

I try to keep myself still standing, and when the burning light hits my eyes I try my best to shield them. Feelings of watching the flames closing in comes back

For what feels like an eternity, you burn in the light of the dying star. But eventually the agony that is wracking your body dulls, and then disappears altogether. The caustic sensation of light against your skin disappears as you come to the realization that you are elsewhere.

You set your arms down to find yourself in what appears to be a small bar. Across the way from you, past booths and tables and a dance floor that looks like it's been ripped straight out of the 80's with its illuminated panels, is a set of double doors that appears to lead outside. Sparks occasionally fly up from the broken, dead panels scattered randomly across the dance floor, and what appears to be a tumorous blood-red mass of flesh glides from one side of the dance floor to the other, leaving a glistening trail in its wake.

On the counter with you are glasses that are half-filled with what appears to be sand, at least until you notice the tar bubbling up from underneath, belching plumes of noxious steam into the air. The bottles of liquor on the counter appear to be filled with crude oil instead of drink and smell faintly of cinnamon and blood.

After looking around, noticing the new location and all the weird things going on within, I suddenly feel a very strong need to get out of there. I immediatly start taking long steps towards the double doors, taking care not to step on anything... unfamiliar... while doing so

You briskly make your way to the front doors, looking down to make sure that you're not stepping on anything, and making a concerted effort to not look at the blob gliding across the dance floor. You look up when you reach the door and find that it has been painted with the words "GET OUT" in angry red letters.

You push the doors open and slip out. You hear the sound of a bell tolling in the distance. The deep, sonorous bass notes make your body, your bones, your very soul tremble.

The doors swing out on well-oiled hinges and as you take your first steps out into a grey, lifeless city, into the driving ice-cold rain that pounds the front of the bar, you know where you have to go: the crumbling edifice of the Cathedral that looms over the centre of it all.

(And Scene.) :P

🎬 (edited)

Hope you enjoyed that. :D

Definatley! Man you're good at describing! Problem is I have quite a lot of empathy, which means I feel very sore right now 😅

Ahaha. xD. You're gonna feel sore a lot of the time in this game. xD.

Anyway, I will get you a copy of this conversation for posterity. But we're done here. If you need anything else, ask me in your "aside" chat which I should make right now. XD.

👍