CW: Graphic depictions of violence, lots of Death and Gore, Psychological horror for like 3 lines, mentions of drowning. Please read the tags and take caution. This one's more than a little visceral.
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The King is here.
You walk through crowded halls of rushing Housemaidens getting into defensive positioning. It's like fighting a wave in the ocean, hard to push through the crowd. You make do anyways, curling through paths you normally wouldn't take.
It's a big deal to everyone but you, at this point. This is the big event, the big fight; to you it's simply where time loops back. Just another day, y'know? You've done it over and over, and you'll probably keep doing it anyways.
It's odd, pushing through the crowd. Everyone is going one way and you are going another. Rushing versus strolling. Your hands are in the pockets of your lab coat. You're practically whistling, for crab's sake!
You simply cannot be bothered this loop. It's a failure from the start: you crabbed up making the bomb, which means you're crabbed from the very beginning. You climbed up the Favor Tree and wedged yourself between the braches for a few hours to pass the time, because looping back would be too much of an inconvenience, and you could just wait until the tears started spawning in the house to go back. The birds had a good time at least, one starting to craft a nest next to you.
You ghosted throughout the day, and now its go time. Everyone else is prepared and ready to fight for time itself, and here you are just. Walking. Realistically you're searching for a tear to stop it all before it starts, but luck isn't on your side this loop.
You can hear it, hear it-- the horrors. All the screams of those unfortunate enough to cross the King's path and fight back. It would be easier, for them, to just bow back and let themselves be frozen-- but no one wants to be frozen, because that's having choice itself stolen from you, a cage of ice to lock yourself in forever. It's just as bad as being dead. Stagnant and eternally screaming.
So they march to their deaths.
The King does not take kindly to the Housemaidens fighting back. Some loops, the House isn't prepared for his attack. Those loops are the nice ones, the less gorey ones. Less dead and more frozen bodies, because no one was prepared to brawl with the monster. He can just... swoop on through and take the House without more than a handful of casualties. This loop is one of the bad ones, because your fellow housemaidens were all prepared. You always think your prepared, too, to see the outcome, but you never truly are.
You turn into the main hall, and freeze still.
No matter how many loops you go through, the carnage always gets to you. There's a nasty, overpowering smell of iron in the air and big dark stains painting the walls, the floors and the roof. Bits and pieces of mashed guts and viscera. There were people in this hallway, once.
Not anymore.
It makes you sick to your stomach like every other time. Just the thought of it. There were people here and now there's only parts of them left. Just ten minutes ago or so, there were people here.
There were people here.
The gore goes in a trail down the hall. Paints practically everything-- including frozen people, if you look down the hall. All frozen with shock and absolute horror on their faces. You recognize some of them.
You try not to think about it.
You push on. Try to ignore the way the blood seeps into your shoes very fabric so they become damp. Try to ignore the fact you're trailing someone's very life behind you now with bloody shoe prints.
There are still no tears.
Plan B, then. The King himself.
You hate going against the King. It always ends terribly with you in agony. But that's the only option left right now, so you chase him down on his little path carved from the blood of the innocent. You find him quickly, too- just down the hall.
He stops before you can get too close. The smell in the air is overpowering, the sharp tang of blood and the burning sensation of the sugar.
"Burning one." He says to you. You're not sure where he pulled that one from: the nickname was something different at some point, but you've long forgotten what it was. Maybe it's the smell of burnt, rotting sugar or maybe it's the potions that burnt your throat. You're not sure anymore.
He just... stands there. Turns around and looks at you. You can feel the dead expression you're pulling as you stare back. Blood glints on his armor, shining and the worst sight in the world and all the same kinda beautiful in its own way? Like the lightless gore is the night sky itself, sparkling with little dots. Makes you feel sick just thinking that.
"How have you done it?" He asks. He asks it every time the two of you face off, the same five words. How. A inquiry. Something you have done, you shouldn't have, and he knows it.
You... think you've gotten it, now. Your hypothesis: How you wished. It's not something you were supposed to do. You did something different something WRONG, and it did something to time itself, tearing a hole in the fabric of space. It's wrong. It's wrong, and you know it and so does the King.
He stares in your direction. You think? Despite his hands, blood-stained as they are, not being infront of his face, the mop of hair is still in the way. You can feel the glare still. Enraged. Daggers in your side.
"I don't know." It's the truth.
"You don't know?"
"I don't remember."
The King goes silent. It's odd, having an actual conversation with him. Even if it was a tiny exchange, it still throws you off. He's willing to talk, even if just a question. He's never really talked to you-- or anyone, to your knowledge-- before.
"Ouuuuhhhh... of course you don't." He wails. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. "You shouldn't have been able too, oohhh... not at all..."
He raises a fist up. It sparkles like the night sky, dark dripping from between his fingers. There's still someone's remains painted on them. Preemptively you brace and throw your arms up in an attempt to block.
It's a different thing that hits you. A new attack. A giant open palm slams into your chest, and you go flying backwards into the wall. The world turns to slow motion as something in you SNAPS. Crunches. Your bones shatter and explode with the force and speed, shooting little shards of agony everywhere.
It hurts. It HURTS. Pain rips through your entire body, and you realise you've started to scream when your chest begins to hurt. Blood splatters onto your glasses, blotting out your vision.
You look up at the King. How'd you get on the floor? How are you breathing, with no lungs? You can see fragments of bone stuck between the metal of his armor.
"Let this be a lesson to you, Burning one."
Metal clinks, and your vision swims-- dots in the corners, figures blur. Blood drips down into your left eye and paints half of your vision a dark shade. Nothing but pain.
Make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop make it stop-- it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts.
You
Simply stop thinking. Just for a moment.
So your brain can catch up! Yeah, sure. That's a good enough excuse.
Just. Pain. You are pain incarnate, and that's all you will be until you die slowly and loop back.
You
Blink,, and
The King. Is gone. You can hear him leaving, loud stomping footsteps dissapearing down a bloodstained trail, and you just stare.
How lucky, HOW LUCKY of you to be left alive this time. Like this isn't a fate worse than death. You gasp for air, and realise all you have left is blood filling your lungs.
It hurts. You want it to end, now. It's hard to see, over the blood and spots dancing across your eyes, but you see them; tears, floating around you. A quick out. You reach out, and the pain in you flares alive, ripping and tearing you apart. You feel like your flesh is going to peel off.
Your fingers brush into one of the tears, and you sob as the ice rolls down your arm and consumes you. It feels a hundred times better than what you were feeling before.
You freeze in time-- and luckily theres no nightmare you have to endure, you just wake back up at your desk. You spend a good chunk of the morning curled up in the bathroom getting sick, because, wow! That's the worst one yet! It's curled into your very being, the feeling of breaking your bones like rock candy, the feeling of drowning in blood.
You just... have to do it better this time, or... something. Hope is fading away into background static. You can't... do this anymore. It hurts too much. You want it to stop. Please make it stop.
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there's a post in the tag about someone wishing to see more Omar in D20 and I agree, but it also reminded me about how a year ago a few RPG streamers I like started Power Play, and I never ended up watching it, and I just recently learned that Omar was in that and I could have seen what an awesome player he was long ago if I just had watched it
and then I got to thinking about how many cool actual plays are out there that don't have the budget that Dimension 20 or Critical Role have, but tell really cool stories with really good players regardless! And a lot of these players deserve recognition, but there's so little space to showcase new players for audiences who only watch D20 or CR
so anyway I compiled a list of every single actual play Omar has been in (at least, those I could find VODs for)
Power Play: actual play of Icons, a silver-age inspired superheroes rpg, hosted by QueueTimes! It's played remotely, about 59 episodes long, and includes several one-shots where (I think?) they play some other game systems as well
The Borros Saga: Banesbreak: actual play of Dungeons and Dragons, hosted by PixelCircus! Played in person, about 12 episodes long, with some one-shot vignettes. Aabria is also a player here!
Monsters and Fables: actual play of Dungeons and Dragons, hosted by the official D&D channel! Played in person, 6 episodes long
Buffy the Vampire Slayer RPG: actual play of Dungeons and Dragons, hosted by Hyper RPG! Played in person, about 9 episodes long, and half the time Omar is DMing!
Balboa Cantrip Academy: actual play of Kids on Brooms, a rules-lite magical school rpg, hosted by Hyper RPG! Played remotely, and only 3 episodes long (Episode 2, Episode 3, on Twitch)
Pugmire: Homeword Bound: actual play of Pugmire, a simplified D20 with dogs, hosted by Saving Throw! Played in-person, only 3 episodes long
The Last VHS Store: a 3-episode series hosted by Saving Throw, where Omar GMs a lite D20 system he designed himself! All in-person
Carrier Penguins: a series of 4 one-shots hosted by Saving Throw, playing Lasers and Feelings, an easily hackable lite system. Ep1, Ep2, Ep3, Ep4, all in-person
Oneshots specifically:
Aces in Space charity stream with QueueTimes, playing Blue Shift - remote
The Golden Girls charity stream with PixelCircus, playing Lewd Grannies - remote
The Gauntlet s2e2 with Hyper RPG, playing Pathfinder (Omar later GMs the 8-episode s4) - in-person
Spy Island ep1 with Hyper RPG, playing ?? (an ad-hoc mafia/werewolf rpg) - remote
(And here's just a truncated list of his Saving Throw oneshots, bc there's a lot: Scooby-Doo rpg playing Wildlings, Lasers and Feelings with the Doubleclicks, House of 100 Nightmares GMing Dread, John Wick charity stream playing Lasers and Feelings)
Game the Game (board games instead of tabletops RPGs) with Geek and Sundry, playing Pitchstorm, Aftermath, and Scott Pilgrim - in-person
He was also a campaign guest player in Failed Save c2e3 (D&D, PixelCircus), Damsels, Dice, & Everything Nice s3e2 (D&D, PixelCircus), and Ironkeep Chronicles ep21 (D&D, Saving Throw)
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so i came across a sonic mod/exe/thing called "sink" and it got me thinking
when people try to make sonic "scary", they never really do it for me because they try to ground it too much in reality:
"oh, sonic's in the real world and is trying to kill me!"
"oh, my game is corrupted"
imo, they're not coming at it from a game angle - they're too focused on outside looking in, rather than inside looking out.
for example, a popular fandom question - why is sonic afraid of water?
if you were on the outside looking it, you could probably shrug and say "well, they needed some kind of weakness gameplay-wise and the creators didn't think hedgehogs could swim. that's that."
inside looking out, however? consider!
MAJOR WARNING FOR DROWNING BELOW THE BREAK
you're sonic the hedgehog.
at the time of the classic games, which to you are your entire life, you're 12 with miles prower (your newly acquired and handy buddy) sitting at a clean 4 years old. sometimes it crosses your mind that he might be too young for this, but time and time again, he's put your worries to rest.
you're proud of him. he's smart and you're quick - you're the perfect duo.
you must've run hours before you enter into chemical plant zone and make your way through the lower path. its been a fairly standard journey up until this point and you're not about to be intimidated by some overgrown factory. (do factories even grow? you decide to ask miles later)
at this point, you're more than aware of how your life works. it's okay if you get hurt, because you have rings. it's okay if you "pass out", because you always wake up at the start of the area you were just in, with everything just as it was.
not to brag, but you happened to think you were pretty indestructible.
falling and rolling down unimaginable stretches of pipes, you and miles finally reach a new area: a hydraulic door opens in front of you, revealing a long chute upwards. cut and dry - you turn towards miles to grab his hand.
the door shuts behind you and, as quick as you can hold your breath, you're plunged under purple water.
miles - you've grown to calling him tails, because it's easier to say; you're still twelve, after all - begins paddling upwards with ease, but you find yourself horrifyingly heavy in the water. it grabs you, pulls you downwards, thousands of arms pinning your every movement.
you jump, and hit the first platform.
you kind of regret not learning how to swim.
tails has paddled so far upwards that you can't see him anymore - not through the sludge of this water, anyway. it seems to be getting heavier too, dragging your movements as you scramble to reach the second platform.
your hands miss.
your feet fail.
you fall back down.
you become consciously aware of how tight your chest is.
you keep trying, to the same result; jump, fall. jump, fall. you aren't sure how much longer you can hold your breath, either, and the hydraulic doors are shut fast - you can't even budge them.
you've tried.
you can just about imagine tails in your mind's eye as you try the platform again, scrambling around in a panic. he's four, in a mechanised factory with no way out, suddenly all on his own. the thought alone propels you forward, and you land a grip on the platform above you.
a foothold. something - there's gotta be some way out of this.
you glance up.
the clearance of the ceiling above you is still high, but for a brief second, you can see the lights of the level above you. you can see the wavering figure of tails, looking in from above, his two tails flickering around.
he looks nervous.
you can't help but laugh in relief - he's okay.
your mistake hits you all at once.
there is no air. the crushing weight of the water bears downwards, and you drop like a stone. there are no chaos emeralds, there is no life-saving device here. just water, yourself, and your own stupid reflection.
the "passing out" feeling begins sweeping over you, and just before you shut your eyes, you recount every last feeling you've ever felt - that time you dropped from spring yard zone and hit the ground a bit too hard, or the time the walls of marble zone came in faster than anticipated.
the time robotnik (eggman, you teased, once upon a time) hit you a bit too hard.
you're dying.
you're dying over and over again, and this time the only exception is that you're made to feel it.
you want to cry.
you can't.
the water cries for you.
you blink, and you're right back at the beginning of chemical plant zone. the sky is clear, the sun is warm; the wind blows through you.
tails looks up at you, waving his hand in front of your eyes to get your attention. he looks just as expectantly nervous as he did before you entered.
he asks if you're ready.
you can't make yourself move. all you can do is drop to your knees and cry.
you heave a breath of air, but all you can taste is water.
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