Honestly, I would have gone for Warhammer 40K BUT there is no way we could have afforded it...

[X] DnD

Besides that, having OOC knowledge of different magic items seems quite useful when we start doing magic and shit...
 
Honestly, I would have gone for Warhammer 40K BUT there is no way we could have afforded it...

[X] DnD

Besides that, having OOC knowledge of different magic items seems quite useful when we start doing magic and shit...
Good idea. Although, I think nerding out over religion could be more beneficial and funny. Like we are only in hell because we loved candy, which was one of the only good things in our life that we could afford, and because we overindulged on Halloween. Imagine being asked why you are in hell. Commit a felony? Have a shameful addiction that cost you everything? Crimes against god/sanity/humanity? And our dude is just like nope, our only sin was being born poor and eating too much candy.
 
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Good idea. Although, I think nerding out over religion could be more beneficial and funny. Like we are only in hell because we loved candy, which was one of the only good things in our life that we could afford, and because we overindulged on Halloween. Imagine being asked why you are in hell. Commit a felony? Have a shameful addiction that cost you everything? Crimes against god/sanity/humanity? And our dude is just like nope, our only sin was being born poor and eating too much candy.
I have to say another cool option for fandom would have been the cool and birarre world of Kill Six Billion Demons, but is this is 2018 it may be a little too obscure...

And about the part of the Sin... I have a scene in my head of Charlie and our guy discussing redemption and him saying "Redemption!? Why would I want that!? I was probably sent here for the only vice I could afford back on Earth, that I gorged on candy like there was no tomorrow... And if I am here, I am 99.95% that the undeclared small side hustles my family did to come by, (and our pirated cable) also qualify for eternal damnation, and I kind of miss my parents and siblings"
 
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I have to say another cool option for fandom would have been the cool and birarre world of Kill Six Billion Demons, but is this is 2018 it may be a little too obscure...

And about the part of the Sin... I have a scene in my head of Charlie and our guy discussing redemption and him saying "Redemption!? Why would I want that!? I was probably sent here for the only vice I could afford back on Earth, that I gorged on candy like there was no tomorrow... And if I am here, I am 99.95% that the undeclared small side hustles my family did to come by, (and our pirated cable) also qualify for eternal damnation, and I kind of miss my parents and siblings"
The conversation could go like this. The reason we are here is because the celestial bureaucracy (the powers that be) are overworked and not designed to recognize extenuating circumstances or degrees of guilt. Good is an arbitrary term that is subject to the individual reviewing your life's personal definition of what "good" means, whereas "sin" is merely the absence of "good," which translates to our placement in hell being the result of not being "good enough." Incidentally, not being "good enough" is considered to be a "sin" that warrants permanent barred admission to the exclusive members-only club that is heaven. In short.
 
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The conversation could go like this. The reason we are here is because the celestial bureaucracy (the powers that be) are overworked and not designed to recognized extenuating circumstances or degrees of guilt. Good is an arbitrary term that is subject to the individual reviewing your life's personal definition of what "good" means, whereas "sin" is merely the absence of "good," which translates to our placement in hell being the result of not being "good enough" to warrant admission to the exclusive members-only club that is heaven. In short.
Or one of the hundreds of religions that say that everyone except their believers go to hell is true, or we are operating under Calvinism logic and God selects the people who go to heaven before they are born, or the standards for entering are so insanely high that only a few dozens people enter heaven each year... It could be many things

@morethanone would it be possible to hire IMP to murder the assholes who killed us? Because once we are in a good spot as Overlord it would be pretty cathartic to get our hands in the assholes who killed us...


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLVQ2LVN1tA&ab_channel=DerPieShu
 
Or one of the hundreds of religions that say that everyone except their believers go to hell is true, or we are operating under Calvinism logic and God selects the people who go to heaven before they are born, or the standards for entering are so insanely high that only a few dozens people enter heaven each year... It could be many things

@morethanone would it be possible to hire IMP to murder the assholes who killed us? Because once we are in a good spot as Overlord it would be pretty cathartic to get our hands in the assholes who killed us...


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLVQ2LVN1tA&ab_channel=DerPieShu

Love the show. Although, I kind of think revenge would be petty. Like I get wanting to get revenge right after you land in hell, but why the rush? They will end up here eventually. Odds are if they did it to you then they will do it again and eventually fuck up. Plus, we got to prioritize the present, not the past.
 
Love the show. Although, I kind of think revenge would be petty. Like I get wanting to get revenge right after you land in hell, but why the rush? They will end up here eventually. Odds are if they did it to you then they will do it again and eventually fuck up. Plus, we got to prioritize the present, not the past.
Each year there is an extermination in which Sera's personal SS Death Squad comes here with weapons that can kill sinners... If you want to extract some sort of pleasure from tormenting the assholes who killed you cannot afford to wait for too long.
 
Each year there is an extermination in which Sera's personal SS Death Squad comes here with weapons that can kill sinners... If you want to extract some sort of pleasure from tormenting the assholes who killed you cannot afford to wait for too long.
I would rather we dedicate as much time, thought, and resources to surviving said purge rather than get revenge on the living. I don't even know if in character we are aware of the purges. I do know that we are before the cannon time start and that it is possible to rapidly grow in power as a sinner, such as Alastor, if we dedicate ourselves to it. I do know that Alastor is special because hax but the point stands.
 
Also because I like the idea of the Mc being into DnD so much it will also be one of Jackson's favorite Hobbies along with the study of religious texts
 
Each year there is an extermination in which Sera's personal SS Death Squad comes here with weapons that can kill sinners... If you want to extract some sort of pleasure from tormenting the assholes who killed you cannot afford to wait for too long.
Hiring I.M.P to off people earth side can wait(if we want to do it at all) until we get more disposable rich and power. Until then I'd prefer to spend the cash on things that'll actually allow us to survive the purge.
 
Ideally, we would get strong, get a crew, possibly hell hounds, find a piece of property, and fortify said property into our very own candy factory/bunker that you will have to drag us out of. Like Wonka and Asmodeus, having our own base where we can craft whatever we want before selling it everywhere would be sick af. Regardless, all of this depends on rolling well and the priorities of the voters.
 
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I would rather we dedicate as much time, thought, and resources to surviving said purge rather than get revenge on the living. I don't even know if in character we are aware of the purges. I do know that we are before the cannon timely and that it is possible to rapidly grow in power as a sinner, such as Alastor, if we dedicate ourselves to it. I do know that Alastor is special because hax but the point stands.
I mean we don't need to dedicate much time, thought, and resources for revenge, once we have enough money all we need to do is put a hit on the fuckers and let Blitzo and the M&Ms do their thing...

And seeing that a lot of their clients are very recently deceased sinners it can't be that expensive to put a hit on the living...
 
I mean we don't need to dedicate much time, thought, and resources for revenge, once we have enough money all we need to do is put a hit on the fuckers and let Blitzo and the M&Ms do their thing...

And seeing that a lot of their clients are very recently deceased sinners it can't be that expensive to put a hit on the living...
Wait, can we hire IMP to smuggle stuff from Earth without letting any of the authorities of hell find out or spy/get information instead of just killing? Like I know it isn't what they're advertising, but if we're offering a big enough sum of money then...

Edit: Imagine if we paint IMP to smuggle a miniature nuke from some tin pot dictatorship like North Korea, not only would we be able to threaten to nuke hell at will, but the amount of chaos it'd cause in the mortal realm would be hilarious.
 
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I mean we don't need to dedicate much time, thought, and resources for revenge, once we have enough money all we need to do is put a hit on the fuckers and let Blitzo and the M&Ms do their thing...

And seeing that a lot of their clients are very recently deceased sinners it can't be that expensive to put a hit on the living...
On the other hand if they die and go to hell*and they realize we we're the ones who sent demon assassins after them, they're very likely to try and come for us. Now hells a big place but I would at least like to have a few disposable goons in between us and any potential revenge seekers before we send out a hit.

*And there is a good chance of that due to their prank resulting in our characters death.
 
On the other hand if they die and go to hell*and they realize we we're the ones who sent demon assassins after them, they're very likely to try and come for us. Now hells a big place but I would at least like to have a few disposable goons in between us and any potential revenge seekers before we send out a hit.

*And there is a good chance of that due to their prank resulting in our characters death.
The idea is to send IMP after them once we have become an Overlord so that once they arrive here we can get our hands on them and make them pay for killing us... It is petty but cathartic.
 
Interlude - Method Acting New
You had always wanted to be an actor. Okay, maybe not really, but more in the way kids dream about becoming astronauts or superheroes. You watched TV shows and movies, endlessly captivated by the actors—by how seamlessly they slipped into other lives. They became ruthless kingpins, charming heroes, and noble knights. And you? You'd be happy just playing someone a little less… you.

If you were to psychoanalyze yourself, you'd guess your fascination with acting had to do with the idea of love. If you could act, really act, then maybe they'd love you like they loved Jennifer Wolfe, the rising movie-star that could light up a screen just by breathing. Jenny was perfect: kind, beautiful, everyone's dream. You had an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny crush on her (who wouldn't?).

Jennifer was, without question, the most popular and promising upcoming star of the decade, fronting dozens of blockbuster films that defined each year they were released and who seemed destined to be the new face of Hollywood—until she gone. One day, she just suddenly dropped off the face of the earth a month prior to your death; there was an intensive police investigation, but, as far as you knew, nothing was found in the investigation.

Wait, where were you going with all of this? Oh yeah, you had always wanted to be an actor, even joined your school's theater class and everything, but you didn't have "the special stuff," as your theater teacher would call it. But that was now far behind you, and so was the Shit Shack.

You closed up the restaurant for the night after finishing the cleanup. You knew it was called the Shit Shack, but the restroom didn't have to be *that* disgusting. Afterward, you started heading back home. Hell was strange, among countless other reasons, in that its nights and days were nearly indistinguishable; Hell was already a dark place, both literally and metaphorically, so the dimming into "night" was hardly noticeable. This led the walks to work and back to not be that different at all . . . is what you would say if there wasn't one very important factor that separated them by miles: Taco.

The Imp and her gang laid dormant during the early mornings and went on the prowl at night, leading to you quickly learning to be more careful when the "sun," which as far as you knew didn't actually exist in Hell, went down. It was a quiet night. Too quiet. In Hell, you learn that quiet means bad things are around the corner. Usually, that means Taco and her gang of imps, armed with rusty knives and bricks just waiting to be splattered with someone's brains. Tonight, though? Nothing. The streets were empty, and the air was still. Not even Taco was prowling, which was extremely off. While her and the rest of her impish gang weren't around in the early mornings when you left less-than-bright-and-early for the Shit Shack, The night was THE time when they went out to have some "fun" as they would call it. While every cell in your body was telling you that something was horribly off, but damn if you didn't want to enjoy this peace.

With this new mindset, you sauntered for a little while longer, basking in the cooling night air and calming fluorescent hum of the street lights. Your calm mind was able to wander and ponder . . . Why the hell were there street lamps in hell? Really, where did this entire city come from? Everyone down here, except maybe Rocket, were homicidal maniacs more focused on killing each other than maintaining, let alone building an entire city. Had it always been around? Maybe it was built by Lucifer? Maybe by go—

"PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!!!"

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard that cry. It was a cry of true fear. A cry of someone begging for help when death, or something worse than it, entraps them.

"SHUT UP YOU BITCH!!!"

And that was Toca. SHIT. TOCA. What should you do?!? A part of you wanted to turn and run, to ignore the chaos unfolding, but another part—the part that still believed in something better—pushed you forward. Maybe it was just another thug? Maybe you didn't have to get involved? Maybe you could walk back home? Yet something in the tone of that voice chilled you to the bone.

"PLEASE, PLEASE HELP M—"

*SMACK*

Shit. Your heart raced, pounding against your ribs like a frantic drum. Before you could even think, your legs moved on their own straight towards the cries. propelled by a mixture of dread and determination.

Rounding a street corner, you finially saw what was happening: Toca, surrounded by all of her gang members, as they surrounded someone wearing rags. They resembled the imps, with equally red skin, horns and all, but who ever they were, they were much taller than rest. Currently the person was on their hands and knees, One arm clutching their stomach, The defenseless person would weakly look up at the sadistic imps and begged painfully

"Please, that's all I have . . . P-please I have nothing e-else"

The imps would look at each other their eyes glittered with wicked satisfaction, like a predator savoring its prey, as a cold, as sharp laughter escaped from them, dripping with sadistic joy.

"Ohh, you dumb, dumb little *cunt.*" Toca hissed out as she smashed the barrel of her Pistol against the pleading person's head

"Look at that fine body of yours... Why don't ya be a good sport, give me and the boys a lil' fun, and maybe we'll let it slide, you showin' up where you shouldn't be and all."

The "boys" cheered when they heard the horrible news and began to further encircle the woman, leaving them no chance to escape. Their eyes, filled with tears, begged for help, wishing that someone would come and take them away from all of this. Wishing that someone would help them. Just like you had wished all of your life.

With your fist clenched tightly, you knew you had to stop this. Grabbing an empty beer bottle lying on the ground, you took aim directly for the head of Toca, who was just barely visible from where you stood, and threw with everything you had.

Check to see if manged to hit Toca.
Dc:40
D100 => 100 +0(Physical capabilities) +15( Calculating the optimal throwing angle) = 115(beyond Critical success.)

You watched as the bottle flew perfectly through the night sky and smashed directly into Toca's head. The bottle exploded into pieces, cutting not only Toca but also the imps that surrounded her. Miraculously, none of the shards struck the endangered woman. The gang erupted into a cacophony of curses and yells of pain as they scrambled to get away from Toca, the epicenter of the painful chaos.

"SHITTTT!!!"

While her goons had been afflicted by various shallow cuts, Toca was by far the worst off. Blood poured from her forehead, and bits of glass were lodged all over her face; one particularly long shard had somehow stabbed directly into her eye. God, it felt good to see that—so much so that you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of your tormentors now as helpless as you once were. This laugh, however, caught the attention of the entire gang, including a disfigured and enraged Toca.

"YOU!!! YOU'RE FUCKIN' DEAD!!!" she roared.

Seeing that her followers were still more focused on pulling glass out of their faces than realizing you were the one who'd caused all this, Toca fired a shot into the air and ordered them to, "SMASH HIS FACE INTO HIS FUCKIN' ASS!!!"

The men began to rush toward you, far too fast for you to escape—but you didn't want to run. Maybe it was your new, not-overly-impressive strength from your time in the gym, maybe it was the thrill of actually hitting Toca with that bottle, maybe you were just sick and tired of these guys pushing everyone around and thought they deserved a taste of their own medicine. Maybe it was something, or maybe it was all of them. BUT. YOU. WON'T. RUN. You just stood there, arms up, ready to fight these dickheads.

Check to see how well you do against four of the imps rushing you.
Dc: 40
D100 => 25(Painful Failure).

When the first impish thug had reached you, timed felt as though it was slowed to a crawl. You had watch more than enough action movies to know what a punch should look like, so you let Instinct take over. Never before had you felt so amazing as when you fist perfectly socked that imp across the face, never mind that it more so further angered him than actually hurt him, never mind that he responded with shoving a twelve inch knife into your skull, never mind that when the others imps caught up they mercilessly beat you, never mind that they ripped off your arms and legs, that punch felt good.

As the imps beat, kicked, and stabbed your mangled Body, you were just able to hear Toca scream in frustration that the guy they were seconds away from brutalizing had manged to run away. Good you thought before a Cinder block smashed your head.


Groaning in pain, you would later awake to the feeling of your mutilated body being dragged by a pair of soft, gentle hands. Your eyes hadn't yet fully reformed so you were unable to fully see who your mover was, but your ears were just able to discern they were asking where you lived. The half of your brain you still had was able to mumble where you lives before you once again blacked out.

Your eyes shot open when you felt a cold, damp rag placed upon your forehead. Shooting up in a panic, you saw that you were actually back in your apartment lying on your old dirty mattress. And that the person from earlier was sitting beside you. They were the most beautiful person you had ever seen, with flawless pink skin, long raven locks of hair, and… miniature bat wings?! You shook your head as they spoke to you.

"I know this looks weird," they said nervously as they rubbed one of their arms while explaining. "B-but I couldn't just leave you like this," they gestured towards your still broken body that now had bandages haphazardly wrapped around you. "I-I swear that I didn't do anything weird or steal anything while you were asleep," they tried to reassure. While it did make you feel better, something was eating away at you: their voice, their face, their manner of speaking—it all felt so familiar, like you had seen them before.

"Wait, are you Jennifer, Jennifer Wolfe?" You questioned as you eyed them further.

The other's face deepened into a wine red and seemed to want to hide from your gaze.

"Y-yes, I'm Jennifer Wolfe."

"Holy shit…" you breathed out in complete disbelief.

"But I didn't die…"

"What?" you questioned. If they weren't a sinner, and you were plenty sure they weren't an imp either, what in God's name were they?

"I'm an incubus… and my name isn't Jennifer; it's Ash."

Your mind shattered. That means that your favorite actor this entire time was an incubus. An incubus—wait, they weren't even a woman; they were a guy?!? Lord, you already had too much to think about!

The night blurred as Ash explained how he'd once traveled from hell to Hollywood, not for the pleasures most incubi sought (thankfully, he didn't elaborate), but to assist others like him with their work. But then "Jennifer" had vanished because he'd been caught. Apparently, the magic sustaining his human form had worn off in the middle of an . . . encounter.

"I couldn't go back. I couldn't return to Hollywood, or else the Vatican would burn me alive. But I also can't go home. I failed; I was exposed, and once you're caught… you're no longer useful to them. They… get rid of you."

Ash's voice trailed off, pain heavy in his words. You knew better than to press him for more, sensing the depth of scars hidden beneath his evasions.

"So, where have you been living then?" you questioned as you redressed yourself with a fresh, unbloodied tank top while Ash went about disposing of the bloodied bandages.

"Alleyways, dumpsters, crack dens, anywhere really that's warm and a floor I can sleep on."

"D-do you want to stay here?" you offered, feeling a strange urgency. "It's the least I can do after you helped me get home."

Ash shook his head, looking away. "I-I couldn't do that. You saved me. What I did for you is nothing compared to that."

"Well… how about this?" you proposed. "You can stay here, but you'll help me clean up this dump, and… you'll give me some acting lessons."

"Acting lessons? Why would you need those?"

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. The real reason lurked beneath: if you wanted to be an Overlord someday, you'd need to master deception. And who better to teach you than an actor—especially one who'd lived a double life?

"Well, I guess. F-fine, I accept," she said shyly, seemingly still unsure about the whole thing. Hell, you were unsure about the whole thing, but it was already sealed with a handshake; nothing can break a handshake.

The following weeks fell into a rhythm: mornings and afternoons spent talking, eating, and cleaning. You discovered quickly that Ash was nothing like the incubus stereotypes. He was diffident, reserved, clumsy—a lot like you. Despite his shy nature, a bond began to form, built around shared stories and a mutual love for DnD. You swapped tales of campaigns, characters, and misadventures, your voices weaving together as two worlds collided.

When you two weren't reciting your fanatical DnD campaigns or shooting the breeze over dinner, Ash was trying to instruct you on the ways of the acting arts; it was disastrous. The lessons were disastrous. While he was earnest, his pacing was slow, though you managed to pick up a few tips over the month. Then one day, the lessons derailed entirely with a simple, innocent question.

"S-so… what does your demonic transformation look like?" he asked, shifting nervously. "I-if you don't mind me asking, that is."

You blinked, surprised. "Demonic transformation?" You'd assumed your new body was your demonic form. Could you get… uglier?

"Oh, yeah. Almost everyone in hell can shift into a true demonic form. I haven't unlocked mine yet, but I heard Sinners can unlock it faster, and it's supposed to look… extra cool."

"Hmm," you murmured, scratching your chin. "A form that makes me look extra cool, huh? Worth looking into. So… how do you unlock it?"

"E-emotions, I think. Maybe… anger?"

"Angry, you say? Well, it's worth a try."

You sat down on the floor with your legs crossed and thought deeply, trying to find a memory of when you got really angry. It didn't take you long.

You were thirteen, and it was the middle of your first year in high school. It began when you opened your locker, and an envelope fell out, a kiss-shaped lipstick stain smeared across its face. You opened it eagerly:

"Hey Jackson. I've had a crush on you for the longest time but never had the courage to say anything. Today, I want to fix that. Meet me behind the school after class. – Your secret admirer ❤️"

You were a lonely, hormonal-filled, greasy-haired, pimple-riddled teenager desperate for any kind of affection from the opposite sex, so you didn't even question it for a second. When you actually did go outside, your jaw dropped in disbelief. The most popular, most beautiful girl in the entirety of the school, Emily Vang, was the one standing outside. You thought you were dreaming, but talking to her she confirmed that yes, she had a crush on you, YOU! It was a dream come true that you never wanted to wake from. You were so happy and giddy from the whole thing that when she asked you to close your eyes for a kiss, you did so without hesitation. Instead of a kiss, all you got was a bucket's worth of fish guts thrown on you. Those three kids, the three that would eventually torment you, had orchestrated the entire thing: They had written the letter, they had convinced Emily to trick you too, they had filled and thrown the bucket at you, and they were the ones pointing and laughing at you along with almost the entire school. The three must have told almost everyone since half of your middle school was there, all pointing, laughing, and recording as you stood there crying, covered in disgusting rotting fish guts. You remember just standing there, unable to move as you tried to close your eyes, trying to ignore it all. Ignore all of the laughing. Stop laughing at me. Stop it, stop it! STOP IT!

"STOP LAUGHING AT ME!" you roared as a column of black flame erupted from your head, and then—you blacked out.

When you awoke, Ash told you you'd nearly torched the roof, though he'd managed to put out the flames. Both of you laughed it off, shaking your heads, before returning to the strange normalcy of your shared life for the rest of that month.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Congratulations! You have befriended the bashful, yet sweet Ash. You will able to recruit them as a hero unit next turn.

While you were unable to fully learn the trade secrets to being feared and respected through the acting arts, Ash was able to impart enough acting lessons to make you the next Tim Curry, or atleast not the next Steven Seagul. Intrigue has risen from 7 to 10.

NEW SKILL UNLOCKED!!!
You Have unlocked acting ,a skill under the Intergue category. The acting skill will be used when Jackson is lieing or trying to deceive others. This skill will not be used in other intrigue actions like stealing, spying, sabotaging, and other actions like that. Your current acting skill is at 3, but can be risen with further tutoring from Ash.
 
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Cool so I guess either the next turn is next or the rumor mill either way ash seems cool.

Now we got a learn how to make candy that's gonna be interesting. I do hope we meet Bee that would be pretty cool.
 
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Damn, this reads like the start of a BL(Boys Love) Manga and I'm completely fine with this. If he ends up as a potential love interest or just one of our best friends I'll be fine with either outcome.
 
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