Fae Mood - A Flying Circus Quest
- Thread starter Texas Red
- Start date
- Original Mature Fantasy Action
Woops…
- Location
- 100 Meters From Your Location
- Pronouns
- She/Her
No, that's good. Alright, just one more roll from you guys. Empty seat again. I'll let you continue to add the patron bonus as this is like, the same thing. So 2d10+5.
I'm envisioning Hilda getting up to go burninate, while the ghost of the pilot (Karl?) just stays seated and keeps flying the plane. When Hilda returns she settles back into the pilot's seat, re-overlapping with him.
We don't have Ideomoter Response, but invoking our patron, walking away from the controls, and coming back to the plane still flying feels awfully close.
(Assuming I haven't mis-read the rolls)
---
If it's taking this long for Edgar to get in the air, I find myself hopeful that all the gotha soldiers piled right back into their plane to chase us. Even one staying behind could be bad news if they caught Edgar unawares.
We don't have Ideomoter Response, but invoking our patron, walking away from the controls, and coming back to the plane still flying feels awfully close.
(Assuming I haven't mis-read the rolls)
---
If it's taking this long for Edgar to get in the air, I find myself hopeful that all the gotha soldiers piled right back into their plane to chase us. Even one staying behind could be bad news if they caught Edgar unawares.
11-7 Burnout
- Location
- 100 Meters From Your Location
- Pronouns
- She/Her
You hummed that one Mitzi Weiß song you loved, Sopwith Sommer, as you began to bring the plane in close. You had to do some more damage if you wanted to break the line and actually get away. You were better with fire than air magic, but you'd need line of sight for that, you didn't want to cast a spell on the plane to set it alight, you'd already had enough experience with iron poisoning from setting plane engines on fire. You heard the plane's canvas peppered with bullets, but nothing that sounded serious. Your nerves were too frayed to let you even look at where you heard the shots hit. You realized then that you'd actually need to get up out of the pilot's seat to get a line of sight. You looked behind you. There was a tail gunner position at the base of the tail that was exposed to the outside you could use. If you let go of the controls. You considered that a better alternative to stepping out onto the wing in the freezing cold and notably off the centerline of the aircraft.
"Hey, uh, S-… Stosneita?" Her name felt bitter on your tongue. "Could you help hold the plane steady?" You asked as you attempted to have the plane fly perfectly straight and gently let go of the yoke. The plane was fairly stable anyway, but a spin in this thing would be horrific to pull out of, especially if you weren't near the pilot seat. You stood up, and ran on the centerline down the back of the plane, vaulting over the engine crate held in place by locks on the wheels, and slid prone into the gunner position at the back of the bomber. You were hovering less than ten meters above the other plane, who was keeping pace. On the open top of the plane, about a dozen soldiers were working to reload the LMGs they'd just fired and fix the half-torn harpoon launcher. You stuck your hands out into the open air. Feeling near-instantly disappeared from your fingers from the brutal cold. You stuck your hands toward the nose of the aircraft, remembering to get a slight lead, and focused your anger at these asshole fascists, imagining the horrific things most of them must have done, and shooting jets of fire from your hands. You saturated the plane with flame, burning away the canvas, setting it alight, engulfing the crew deck in fire, and melting the metal cable holding your planes together. A moment later, the wooden structure of the enemy plane exploded in into shrapnel as tracerless ammunition ripped the cockpit completely off, basically decapitating the damn plane. Riya's blue monoplane dove past the dying biplane at a breakneck speed, as the enemy plane began listing down towards the earth below. Some of the soldiers tried beating the fire out, despite the fact they had no way to control the plane, even as it twisted into a flat spin, tumbling towards the earth as a bundle of flaming wreckage. It took you a while to realize that your plane was starting to tilt to the right, prompting you to scramble back to your feet and clamber for the cockpit. Looking back at the pilot seat, you saw the back of someone's head, brown hair, piloting the plane. They pulled the stick left, and you leveled out.
"H-HEY!" You yelled, realizing someone else was flying the plane. You clambered over the crate, taking your eyes off the pilot for just a moment, and realizing they were just gone when you looked back to the seat. Maybe you were going crazy. But something actually turned the plane. Or maybe it was literally the wind. Whatever. You threw yourself back into the pilot seat, grabbed the controls again, and slowly turned around the confirm the damage. The enemy aircraft was lying at the base of the canyon, still aflame. Serves them right.
The flight home was absolute agony. There was no other way to describe it. Your muscles were cramping about halfway home, the comparatively tiny amount of fuel you'd given the aircraft thankfully lasted you home, but you were terrified about being forced to touch down in this thing in the wild. The worst part was that it gave you time to think about what had just happened when you weren't nearly vomiting from strain of turning. You'd sent over a dozen people to their deaths with magic. Using magic violently was easy for you. It was explosive, a little fun, and looked cool as hell, but it wasn't what you'd been taught. You were supposed to use magic to help your community, not hurt bad people. It felt like an abuse of your power. Why did you laugh when you shot lighting at them? Why did you taunt them? This wasn't a fucking game. You were almost shot when fixing the engine in the hangar, they shot a goddessesdamn rocket at you, why were you so detached from this? Maybe you were that violent animal your coven labeled you as.
You were angry when you landed. You weren't sure why, or at what, but you were enraged, and in pain, and hating yourself, and never wanting to get in an airplane again. You'd almost died too many times. You'd killed to many people. If what men said about Hell was real you were going there by now. You didn't want to be a detached psychopathic witch anymore. You didn't know what you needed to feel better, who to talk to, what you could do, you felt like if you spoke to any of your friends you'd explode at them, but you were afraid of your own thoughts if you weren't around them.
You wandered off the plane, passing by the professor, who was ecstatic about the Pferd until you opened the bomb bay doors for her to see and just walked away. You weren't in the mood for conversation, so just didn't really process whatever she said to you. You weren't in the mood for hugs, so you just kinda limply hung there while Riya hugged you. You didn't know what to say when she asked you what was wrong, so you didn't say anything and focused on not just screaming at her to get the fuck off of you. She thankfully left you alone. You just started to walk towards town, unsure of what to do next.
Mission complete! You are burnt out! That means disadvantage to Press The Issue and Get Real, you can't lead negotiations, and you cannot fly. You will be burnt out until you are under 5 stress. Do not fret! You can Vent to reduce stress as well!
[ ] Write in your plan for stress relief. Include vents as you'd like. I encourage we use them while we have the chance for more drama.
"Hey, uh, S-… Stosneita?" Her name felt bitter on your tongue. "Could you help hold the plane steady?" You asked as you attempted to have the plane fly perfectly straight and gently let go of the yoke. The plane was fairly stable anyway, but a spin in this thing would be horrific to pull out of, especially if you weren't near the pilot seat. You stood up, and ran on the centerline down the back of the plane, vaulting over the engine crate held in place by locks on the wheels, and slid prone into the gunner position at the back of the bomber. You were hovering less than ten meters above the other plane, who was keeping pace. On the open top of the plane, about a dozen soldiers were working to reload the LMGs they'd just fired and fix the half-torn harpoon launcher. You stuck your hands out into the open air. Feeling near-instantly disappeared from your fingers from the brutal cold. You stuck your hands toward the nose of the aircraft, remembering to get a slight lead, and focused your anger at these asshole fascists, imagining the horrific things most of them must have done, and shooting jets of fire from your hands. You saturated the plane with flame, burning away the canvas, setting it alight, engulfing the crew deck in fire, and melting the metal cable holding your planes together. A moment later, the wooden structure of the enemy plane exploded in into shrapnel as tracerless ammunition ripped the cockpit completely off, basically decapitating the damn plane. Riya's blue monoplane dove past the dying biplane at a breakneck speed, as the enemy plane began listing down towards the earth below. Some of the soldiers tried beating the fire out, despite the fact they had no way to control the plane, even as it twisted into a flat spin, tumbling towards the earth as a bundle of flaming wreckage. It took you a while to realize that your plane was starting to tilt to the right, prompting you to scramble back to your feet and clamber for the cockpit. Looking back at the pilot seat, you saw the back of someone's head, brown hair, piloting the plane. They pulled the stick left, and you leveled out.
"H-HEY!" You yelled, realizing someone else was flying the plane. You clambered over the crate, taking your eyes off the pilot for just a moment, and realizing they were just gone when you looked back to the seat. Maybe you were going crazy. But something actually turned the plane. Or maybe it was literally the wind. Whatever. You threw yourself back into the pilot seat, grabbed the controls again, and slowly turned around the confirm the damage. The enemy aircraft was lying at the base of the canyon, still aflame. Serves them right.
The flight home was absolute agony. There was no other way to describe it. Your muscles were cramping about halfway home, the comparatively tiny amount of fuel you'd given the aircraft thankfully lasted you home, but you were terrified about being forced to touch down in this thing in the wild. The worst part was that it gave you time to think about what had just happened when you weren't nearly vomiting from strain of turning. You'd sent over a dozen people to their deaths with magic. Using magic violently was easy for you. It was explosive, a little fun, and looked cool as hell, but it wasn't what you'd been taught. You were supposed to use magic to help your community, not hurt bad people. It felt like an abuse of your power. Why did you laugh when you shot lighting at them? Why did you taunt them? This wasn't a fucking game. You were almost shot when fixing the engine in the hangar, they shot a goddessesdamn rocket at you, why were you so detached from this? Maybe you were that violent animal your coven labeled you as.
You were angry when you landed. You weren't sure why, or at what, but you were enraged, and in pain, and hating yourself, and never wanting to get in an airplane again. You'd almost died too many times. You'd killed to many people. If what men said about Hell was real you were going there by now. You didn't want to be a detached psychopathic witch anymore. You didn't know what you needed to feel better, who to talk to, what you could do, you felt like if you spoke to any of your friends you'd explode at them, but you were afraid of your own thoughts if you weren't around them.
You wandered off the plane, passing by the professor, who was ecstatic about the Pferd until you opened the bomb bay doors for her to see and just walked away. You weren't in the mood for conversation, so just didn't really process whatever she said to you. You weren't in the mood for hugs, so you just kinda limply hung there while Riya hugged you. You didn't know what to say when she asked you what was wrong, so you didn't say anything and focused on not just screaming at her to get the fuck off of you. She thankfully left you alone. You just started to walk towards town, unsure of what to do next.
Mission complete! You are burnt out! That means disadvantage to Press The Issue and Get Real, you can't lead negotiations, and you cannot fly. You will be burnt out until you are under 5 stress. Do not fret! You can Vent to reduce stress as well!
- Lose one of your bonds (break a focus)
- Wander out into the Wild
- Hex someone who has it coming
- Use yourself as a focus (do blood magic for something)
- Make an unwise pact with the fae
- Break a piece of needed technology
- Call someone out. Make it hurt. (Say who, and say how)
[ ] Write in your plan for stress relief. Include vents as you'd like. I encourage we use them while we have the chance for more drama.
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10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
[X] The trees sell Personal Growth
-[X] Hallucinogens
-[X] Cannabis
-[X] Music (Addicted)
-[X]Gambling
-[X] Wander out into the Wild
-[X] Use yourself as a focus (do blood magic for something)
-[X] Make an unwise pact with the fae
In order
1) Get all the drugs
2) Get high and wander of into the forest, until you encounter the aeolic music. The wind through the leaves, the sounds of nature, it's pretty in it's own right, on it's own merits, but it's also the Fae's music
3) Cast upon yourself a spell that will align body and soul, to resolve this disconnect, this pain you've been fearing. If the world wants you to kill, let it give you claws and teeth, so that you can tear flesh like a badger. Or maybe you can find the wisdom in the skies, grow wings like a crow? Unmooring your form like this, opening yourself to the world and to change in all it's possibilities is a risk, but it's one you have to take
4) Make a bet with the Fae about what you'll end up as.
-[X] Hallucinogens
-[X] Cannabis
-[X] Music (Addicted)
-[X]Gambling
-[X] Wander out into the Wild
-[X] Use yourself as a focus (do blood magic for something)
-[X] Make an unwise pact with the fae
In order
1) Get all the drugs
2) Get high and wander of into the forest, until you encounter the aeolic music. The wind through the leaves, the sounds of nature, it's pretty in it's own right, on it's own merits, but it's also the Fae's music
3) Cast upon yourself a spell that will align body and soul, to resolve this disconnect, this pain you've been fearing. If the world wants you to kill, let it give you claws and teeth, so that you can tear flesh like a badger. Or maybe you can find the wisdom in the skies, grow wings like a crow? Unmooring your form like this, opening yourself to the world and to change in all it's possibilities is a risk, but it's one you have to take
4) Make a bet with the Fae about what you'll end up as.
Anything but this please. After everything so far I feel like this would be breaking trust with Riya, and I don't want to stupidly throw Hilda into more supernatural mires.
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- Location
- Earth, probably.
- Pronouns
- None/Any
Trying to think of way to justify using ourselves as a focus to get more in contact with Stosneita but struggling to put something together.
10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
All rivers flow to the dark sea.
So go to the river, spill blood, and follow it to it's destination.
These are vents.
All of them do terrible things, and I took some effort to avoid the worst, most people impacting options.
[X]Fish Fight
-[X]Break Hypnosis
-[X]Call Someone Out, Make it Hurt
-[X]Break Trust with Edgar
This is Hilda at her worst, and Hilda's worst is lashing out at people close to her. She's been uncomfortable at best with the Fischer religion from the start, and her Burning Out seems to be manifesting as wanting to be closer to her own religion and upbringing. A shouting match with Edgar about the conversion, and maybe ditching the god whose name is bitter on her tongue seems like the fight she's positioned for.
-[X] Break a piece of needed technology: Break Hilda's sawn-off shotgun. [And pistol?]
Use the shotgun as a symbol of how Hilda feels she's degenerating into a killer, and a resolve to try and become better.
-[X]Drinking
-[X]Music
-[X]Cannabis
With that stress bled off, throwing herself into booze and dancehalls seems Hilda's vice of choice when the stress piles up, and gives her an excuse to dodge her friends and any attempts to Get Real, as per her avoidant tendencies.
Edit: Added Pillowsperky's idea to break the shotgun, and some more drugs.
-[X]Break Hypnosis
-[X]Call Someone Out, Make it Hurt
-[X]Break Trust with Edgar
This is Hilda at her worst, and Hilda's worst is lashing out at people close to her. She's been uncomfortable at best with the Fischer religion from the start, and her Burning Out seems to be manifesting as wanting to be closer to her own religion and upbringing. A shouting match with Edgar about the conversion, and maybe ditching the god whose name is bitter on her tongue seems like the fight she's positioned for.
-[X] Break a piece of needed technology: Break Hilda's sawn-off shotgun. [And pistol?]
Use the shotgun as a symbol of how Hilda feels she's degenerating into a killer, and a resolve to try and become better.
-[X]Drinking
-[X]Music
-[X]Cannabis
With that stress bled off, throwing herself into booze and dancehalls seems Hilda's vice of choice when the stress piles up, and gives her an excuse to dodge her friends and any attempts to Get Real, as per her avoidant tendencies.
Edit: Added Pillowsperky's idea to break the shotgun, and some more drugs.
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[X] Plan: Badger Burnt
-[X] Cannabis
-[X] Music (Addicted)
-[X] Call someone out. Make it hurt: Edgar.
--[X] Call him the fuck out for messing with Hilda's head at a vulnerable moment! She has already had trauma and fucking twat fay messing with it, and She trusted him to fuck her under his trance without pulling any shit afterward! Instead He put this helpful loving fucking mommy-wannabe in her head! He took advantage in a way He never should have! Hilda isn't giving up Stosneita, but Edgar, you fucking took advantage in how he introduced Hilda to her!
-[X] Wander out into the Wild:
--[X] Break a piece of needed technology: Break Hilda's personal guns into pieces, burn and bury their wood and dump their metal in water to rust. Fuck these violent tools, may nature take them back.
--[X] Lose one of your bonds (break a focus): Smash your broom in half and then burn it with fire magic.
--[X]Find a safe, warm but relatively uncomfy burrow beneath some tree-roots to curl up in.
--[X] Hallucinogens
--[X] Use yourself as a focus (do blood magic for something)
---[X] Hex someone who has it coming: Hilda hexes herself with blood magic, making her stay asleep through a bad trip with bad dreams for an entire night, confronting her guilt and self-shame.
-[X] Cannabis
-[X] Music (Addicted)
-[X] Call someone out. Make it hurt: Edgar.
--[X] Call him the fuck out for messing with Hilda's head at a vulnerable moment! She has already had trauma and fucking twat fay messing with it, and She trusted him to fuck her under his trance without pulling any shit afterward! Instead He put this helpful loving fucking mommy-wannabe in her head! He took advantage in a way He never should have! Hilda isn't giving up Stosneita, but Edgar, you fucking took advantage in how he introduced Hilda to her!
-[X] Wander out into the Wild:
--[X] Break a piece of needed technology: Break Hilda's personal guns into pieces, burn and bury their wood and dump their metal in water to rust. Fuck these violent tools, may nature take them back.
--[X] Lose one of your bonds (break a focus): Smash your broom in half and then burn it with fire magic.
--[X]Find a safe, warm but relatively uncomfy burrow beneath some tree-roots to curl up in.
--[X] Hallucinogens
--[X] Use yourself as a focus (do blood magic for something)
---[X] Hex someone who has it coming: Hilda hexes herself with blood magic, making her stay asleep through a bad trip with bad dreams for an entire night, confronting her guilt and self-shame.
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10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
This leaves a good chunk of our stress unresolved, put us at serious risk of just staying burnt out.
I figured that the Vent+Break Trust and some vice would get us functional again. I'll have to take a closer look at the stress rules and add some things.
I'd rather call someone out (as in my plan, above) and give Edgar the opportunity for change, as opposed to just breaking trust for no gain.
Calling him out presents Edgar with the option to actually modify himself -hopefully for the better- without breaking up the circus necessarily.
This is Hilda at her worst, but that does not mean we must take the most destructive options.
- Location
- 100 Meters From Your Location
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X]Fish Fight
This is about how I'd imagine Hilda at her worst, though probably with intentionally maxing out her vice track. Not sure if any of you guys are personality theory nerds but I've made Hilda as a textbook type 7 pretty much unintentionally. Good plan Marshal. The altering body with blood magic seems a little out of character for Hilda given she's reverting to how she was raised.
This is about how I'd imagine Hilda at her worst, though probably with intentionally maxing out her vice track. Not sure if any of you guys are personality theory nerds but I've made Hilda as a textbook type 7 pretty much unintentionally. Good plan Marshal. The altering body with blood magic seems a little out of character for Hilda given she's reverting to how she was raised.
Breaking trust doesn't mean kicking him out of the Circus. Hilda broke trust with Riya and that ultimately improved things once they restored trust. The goal is ultimately for Hilda to destress and then work things out with Edgar afterwards. Also, it's an extra bit of stress relief when she's already Venting at him (which might cause him to break trust anyways).
Hmmm. True... I may edit my plan.
10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
The logic is revert, panic about how you can't go back, then burn the past with vengeance.
10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
Not a plan, I like, really. But here
[] Bring Death To Weapons Of War
-[] Break a piece of needed technology : The Pferd's gun sight and radio, the two least replaceable things on there.
-[] Call someone out. Make it hurt
--[] The Professor
--[] She screwed you on the mission. No money for an escort, not even a warning that you'd need to bring in a bomber. And for what, "secrecy". The Goths sure as hell knew about this bomber, it's payload, and it's location. What genius tells their allies nothing and their enemies everything. Was saving the few Thaler you might have charged her extra for this duty that important? Did she feel she needed to mislead you to get her weapon of war? Because if so, she's in good company. The company of kings, emperors and generals. She might want to contact Sopwith. Maybe bomber command is hiring.µ
-[] Hallucinogens
-[] Cannabis
-[] Music (Addicted)
-------------
-------------
[] Solace
-[] Hallucinogens
-[] Cannabis
-[] Music (Addicted)
-[] Wander out into the Wild
-[] Use yourself as a focus (do blood magic for something)
-[] Make an unwise pact with the fae
Largely the same plan, mechanically as before, but with a different narrative.
1) Get all the drugs
2) Get high and wander of into the forest, until you encounter the aeolic music. The wind through the leaves, the sounds of nature, it's pretty in it's own right, on it's own merits, but it's also the Fae's music
3) The Fae did something to you to awaken that part of your soul. You've seen her do it, you can figure it out. You'll take the parts of your souls you hate, the killing, the anger, the vengeance, and bundle them up, segregate them, sell them. It's what you did just before Riya, and you believe, nah, know now that she'd never have become friends with you if she encountered the real you from the start.
[] Bring Death To Weapons Of War
-[] Break a piece of needed technology : The Pferd's gun sight and radio, the two least replaceable things on there.
-[] Call someone out. Make it hurt
--[] The Professor
--[] She screwed you on the mission. No money for an escort, not even a warning that you'd need to bring in a bomber. And for what, "secrecy". The Goths sure as hell knew about this bomber, it's payload, and it's location. What genius tells their allies nothing and their enemies everything. Was saving the few Thaler you might have charged her extra for this duty that important? Did she feel she needed to mislead you to get her weapon of war? Because if so, she's in good company. The company of kings, emperors and generals. She might want to contact Sopwith. Maybe bomber command is hiring.µ
-[] Hallucinogens
-[] Cannabis
-[] Music (Addicted)
-------------
-------------
[] Solace
-[] Hallucinogens
-[] Cannabis
-[] Music (Addicted)
-[] Wander out into the Wild
-[] Use yourself as a focus (do blood magic for something)
-[] Make an unwise pact with the fae
Largely the same plan, mechanically as before, but with a different narrative.
1) Get all the drugs
2) Get high and wander of into the forest, until you encounter the aeolic music. The wind through the leaves, the sounds of nature, it's pretty in it's own right, on it's own merits, but it's also the Fae's music
3) The Fae did something to you to awaken that part of your soul. You've seen her do it, you can figure it out. You'll take the parts of your souls you hate, the killing, the anger, the vengeance, and bundle them up, segregate them, sell them. It's what you did just before Riya, and you believe, nah, know now that she'd never have become friends with you if she encountered the real you from the start.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X]Fish Fight
Marshal and Pillow is right: Fuck Edgar for fucking with our head and taking advantage of us! Fuck that guy! Fuck men!
If this goes as shittily as I expect it to, Hilda may be compelled to take this further:
[X] Hex someone who has it coming: Edgar
Followed by:
[X] Go cry to Riya about it: Either because you've wisened up by now and feel bad abt backsliding into misandry, or just gripe because you haven't/don't
Upon catching up I thought about voting to torch the Pferd, but this seems on-brand and less apocalypse-inducing than setting a tonne of poison gas on fire.
Marshal and Pillow is right: Fuck Edgar for fucking with our head and taking advantage of us! Fuck that guy! Fuck men!
If this goes as shittily as I expect it to, Hilda may be compelled to take this further:
[X] Hex someone who has it coming: Edgar
Followed by:
[X] Go cry to Riya about it: Either because you've wisened up by now and feel bad abt backsliding into misandry, or just gripe because you haven't/don't
Upon catching up I thought about voting to torch the Pferd, but this seems on-brand and less apocalypse-inducing than setting a tonne of poison gas on fire.
10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
Breaking the shotgun feels too easy for a vent, tbh. Doesn't cause nearly enough complications.
Breaking a piece of needed technology should be expensive stuff, not a thing you can trivially replace at any market.
Hmmm. This is fair.