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zhonglucvers · 2 years

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Prompts para RPG

Como eu estou sempre lutando para ter o mínimo embasamento sobre o que plotar quando abro uma base no twitter/telegram (e afins) ou até mesmo quero plotar algo privado, decidi começar a listar alguns prompts básicos que podem me ajudar a ter alguma boa ideia. No caso de ter mais alguém precisando, fique a vontade para deixar a criatividade fluir a partir de qualquer bobeirinha aqui. Essa lista possivelmente será atualizada conforme eu pense/lembre de mais coisas.

Paranormal 1.1 apocalipse zumbi; 1.2 instituição de magia; 1.3 instituição de super-heróis; 1.4 criaturas míticas ( vampiros, lobisomens );

Lei 2.1 os personagens trabalham em uma delegacia; 2.2 os personagens são agentes secretos; 2.3 os personagens são agentes secretos MAS existe um infiltrado; 2.4 os personagens pertencem a uma máfia; 2.5 os personagens pertencem a máfias diferentes, mas se unem por um interesse em comum; 2.6 os personagens são estudantes de direito e trabalham juntos tentando descobrir um caso grande ( enquanto resolvem vários pequenos ), pode adicionar uma pitada bem HTGAWM;

Trabalho, mas slice of life 3.1 os personagens trabalham em uma cafeteria; 3.2 os personagens competem por trabalharem em cafeterias rivais; 3.3 os personagens fazem parte de uma equipe de organização de casamento ( estilo fábrica de casamentos );

Fama / atores / musicistas 4.1 agência, dividindo personagens entre artistas e agentes; 4.2 batalha de bandas; 4.3 todos são atores da obra da qual eles fazem parte; 4.4 todos são atores de sitcoms famosas; 4.5 famosos indo tirar férias juntos em uma casa reclusa; 4.6 reality show;

#rpg #twitter rpg #telegram rpg #kpop rpg #anime rpg #discord rpg #prompt #prompt rpg #plot rpg #rp idea #rp plot #ideias rpg #base rpg #plot rp

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senatuspromo · 1 year

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Questa è roma!

Sacked, conquered, burned, rebuilt again and again, it has remained and so has it’s secrets. On the surface it is a city rich in culture, art, history, and progress, but beneath it, all around the everyday people, the supernatural lurk. They’ve played a part in every conquest, for over two thousand years the Senate has been there, watching and waiting and manipulating human history all to protect their own. Made up of five factions, their one goal is to keep the supernatural world thriving in shadow, to keep them safe from those that would do them harm. But now with the fairy queen behind bars, a leech set upon the vampire community, and a missing Archdruid, alliances between the supernatural community are tentative when each faction has their own ambitions and perhaps Rome, a city that has survived over two thousand years, is doomed to fall once more.

Home | Navigation | Skeletons | Taken Faces | Guidelines

#skeleton rp #supernatural rp #lsrp #plot rp #supernatural rpg #plot rpg #tumblr rp #group rp

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lawlesslandrpg · 2 years

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Are you a Native? Were you born and raised in Lawless Land and now you’re watching it be taken over by Outsiders? How will you handle things? What will you do to protect what’s yours?

#plot rpg #original #original roleplay #original rpg #original rp

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probablybadrpgideas · 7 months

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Transmute plot to coffee shop AU

#rpg #roleplaying games #D&D #meta #fantasy #plot idea

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ncpe · 8 months

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— ❝ hear me out... a stripper x customer romance. 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚, a stripper, has taken on the responsibility of caring for their young siblings. they rely on their work to ensure their siblings' well-being and provide for them. one night, they are sent to dance at a bachelor or bachelorette party. unexpectedly, they find themselves in a private room with 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛, the groom's best man or bride’s maid of honor. in a surprising turn of events, 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛 declines the private dance but instead pays for an hour-long conversation with 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚. they connect on a deeper level, sharing stories, dreams, and vulnerabilities. despite feeling a mutual attraction, 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚 declines 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛's offer to go out, knowing the complications involved. weeks pass, with both muses unable to forget the powerful connection they shared that night. fate intervenes, bringing them back together once more. this time, both 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚 and 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛 decide to explore what their future could potentially hold.

#- — ° ❝ 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 ❞#1x1 plot #smut 1x1 #1x1 rpg #1x1 roleplay #1x1 rp #rp 1x1 #urban 1x1 #urban indie rp #indie urban rp #urban rpg #1x1 discord #discord 1x1 #discord smut rp #indie roleplay #indie 1x1 #indie rp #urban rp #urban roleplay

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ladyluscinia · 2 months

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Dipping into videogame fandoms is always wild. Like fandoms of all sorts are bad at genre conventions, but gamers LOVE to praise or criticize things for, like, blatantly subjective gameplay styles that literally just are types of game that maybe they should be playing more (or less) of, and then cap it off with a suggestion that is obviously far beyond game engine capabilities based on experience, or would radically change or cripple the intended interactive player experience / replay value

You think the devs fucked up because the protagonist is a blank slate just dropped in the world with no backstory connection or driving motivations???

Bruh... Skyrim never even hinted to you what you had done to get thrown in a cart on your way to the death penalty

I think maybe you would have more fun stepping away from the RPGs. Grab something with a named protagonist on the cover and no character creator. If you don't want this canon character to have "OOC" dialogue options when you control them that make them sound like an outsider to the plot, well, they don't tend to do that when you play something with minimal / option-less cutscenes 🤷‍♀️ nor do you lose critical interactive experiences if you pick a game designed from that mindset

It's never something subtle, is the thing 🤣 always with the "TRAGIC - Amazing Game would be objectively better if only it was a Completely Different Game more suited to my preferred play style"

#this also applies to people who clearly want their rpg romance to function like a dating sim #wish their combat-focused mmo had a better single player story mode #or generally like some aspect of a game and wish the whole thing could be built around it... when it's common sense why this game is not #like come on. think for a second why 9 different fully fleshed out backstories that tied you into the plot would be hard for an rpg to do #and why locking every character into one with npcs that know them and such might be *bad* for an rpg #especially if they had any significant tie into the plot beyond acting as a bubbled tutorial or somthing #videogames #ladyluscinia

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peaches2217 · 2 months

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Perhaps some 🤒 for Luisley?

🤒 - Needing to be looked after

Overstimulated

~~~

The click of the front door opening, muffled though it was through the walls of his bedroom, brought Luigi out of his self-induced trance. That would be Mario. Back so soon?

When there was no call of “Weegee, sono tornato!”, the dread fluttering within Luigi’s stomach beat its wings even harder, exacerbated by the perpetual overstimulation that buzzed throughout his limbs and core. A silent Mario was rarely a good thing. That usually meant he was angry or deeply saddened or so thoroughly baffled that he had to retreat into his thoughts to make any sense of his own feelings, and given the context under which he had left the house…

What did he say? Was he upset? Those thoughts tumbled through Luigi’s head in a maddening rush, and as terrified as he was of the answer, he needed to know. As unusually light footsteps padded towards his room, he cocooned himself beneath his blankets, as if their soft fabric could cushion the blow of whatever he was about to hear, and steeled himself.

“Ch-che ha detto?” he called out to his brother. “Era… arrabbiato?”

The voice that responded was not Mario’s.

“Ah! There you are!”

Luigi’s blood froze within his veins.

He tossed the blankets aside and sat up just as the door was thrown open, and the sudden slam of wood against wood sent a jolt through his body that made him clap his hands over his ears. The all too familiar figure in the doorway, his bold chartreuse and white and gold standing in stark contrast to the cottage’s cozy interior, jolted as well.

“Commoners’ abodes,” Peasley muttered beneath his breath, eyeing the door with a mix of contempt and bemusement. “Why must your doors be so ludicrously lightweight?”

The disdain in his eyes might normally draw a chuckle from Luigi — he could practically see Peasley storming into the office of Toad Town’s primary contractor and causing a scene, because how dare the great heroes of the Mushroom Kingdom be given a home constructed of anything less than marble and solid gold — but today he flinched away from it.

This wasn’t happening. Surely this wasn’t happening.

Remembering all too suddenly the state that he was in, Luigi dove beneath the covers once more. Maybe he hadn’t been seen. Maybe he could still save face. Maybe the fabric could swallow him whole and put an end to this nightmare before it began. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing?” Peasley repeated, his tone thick with mock-offense. “My love, what wouldn’t I be doing here? Is it not one’s most sacred duty to tend to their loved ones in times of need?”

His voice came nearer as he spoke, and beneath his shroud of cotton and down, Luigi gulped. His pulse throbbed in his ears, his heart threatening to rip through bone and sinew right out of his chest. “Please don’t worry,” he said, though his voice shook far more than he would’ve liked. “I— I’m sorry I couldn’t make it today! It’s just, y’know—”

“‘Shroom fever’, correct?” Peasley drew the question out, his voice calm, but laced with something that sounded like amusement.

He didn’t buy it. Immediately Luigi’s throat tightened, and he inhaled sharply, willing himself not to start tearing up.

He expected his blankets to be pried away any moment now, for Peasley to expose his unkempt, lying face and see him for the great big mess that he truly was. The mattress dipped beside where he was curled into a pathetic heap, and his muscles tensed, preparing for the worst.

But it never came.

“Yes, that’s what the red one told me.” The amusement was still there, but now it sounded softer, more affectionate than accusatory. “I must say, he’s not too terribly convincing a liar. He would have held no qualms in seeing me to your bedside if you were ill, but he couldn’t give me a good answer for why this time was different.”

Luigi winced. He hasn’t considered that.

“You can’t tell him what’s going on,” he’d pleaded to his brother half an hour earlier, arms hugging his chest tightly in a futile attempt to stave off the effects of sensory overload. “Just, like… tell him I’m sick. Tell him I’ve got shroom fever or something!”

Mario, though sympathetic, had been disapproving. “He’s gonna have to know eventually. Come on, you know as well as I do that it won’t change anything.”

“But what if it does? What if he thinks I’m pathetic?”

“Then he never deserved you in the first place,” was Mario’s response.

Of course, that answer brought Luigi very little comfort. He felt bad enough when this happened, when his oddly-wired brain decided for no good reason that all sensory input was suddenly a thousand times more overwhelming than what he was used to, that getting out of bed was just too great a struggle as a result. For it to happen on a day he was supposed to meet up with the love of his life? The thought that he might lose said love for something so pathetic as this? Luigi couldn’t even begin to comprehend the ease with which Mario suggested that might be okay.

Peasley chuckled now, the sound resonating from deep within his chest. “Your fraternal devotion to one another will never cease to amaze me. No matter my insistence, I couldn’t drag an answer from him. He merely said that my right to know was entirely up to you.”

Frustration and gratitude grappled for superiority in Luigi’s mind. Of course Mario would never go spilling Luigi’s business. But he would have allowed it just this once, just to save himself some heartache.

If he was going to lose Peasley’s respect, he would have preferred it to happen from a distance. He didn’t want this front-row seat to his own undoing. The air beneath his flimsy fortress was hot and stale, and he felt sweat beading at his hairline.

“…It’s nothing,” he finally attempted, meekly.

“Hmm. Well, it’s something to you, and thus it’s something to me.” A rustling of fabric, and then the lightest of indents in the mattress next to his head. Peasley’s hand. “Do you mourn, my love? Might this be the anniversary of some tragedy? Or perhaps you’ve lost something dear to you?”

Not yet. Even thinking as much constricted Luigi’s airway once more, so he shook his head in response.

Peasley hummed again. “Might this have to do with your condition, then? Your anxiety, or your… awe-tee-sum, was it called?”

“Autism,” Luigi corrected automatically, and instantly he flinched at his own haste. “It’s… it’s nothing, I promise. It’s dumb.”

“Ah. So that’s a yes.”

Peasley still didn’t move. He sat perfectly still, his hand never once inching closer, an invitation that Luigi was welcome to accept or decline as he saw fit. He wanted nothing more than to reach out into the still air and take that hand, hold onto it with all his might, have some sort of solid proof that he wouldn’t be abandoned in spite of his brain telling him such an outcome was inevitable.

“…What else did Mario say?” he ventured instead, because Peasley had never been the sort to keep his hands to himself, and he had a sneaking suspicion his elder twin had something to do with that, too.

“He said I would do well to speak quietly and refrain from touching you without your permission,” Peasley confessed, “lest I would have scooped you into my arms the moment I heard your voice.” Another chuckle, and this time Luigi almost had the heart to join in. “I confess, I still don’t quite understand. But I would like to help. Will you acquaint me with your struggles, my dear?”

Acquaint me with your struggles. Now this was the phrase that bounced about Luigi’s skull, because it made no sense whatsoever. They were supposed to be on a date together. They were supposed to be out and about, enjoying food and nature and being a normal couple (as normal a couple as a human nobody and a Beanish prince could be, anyway). But instead Luigi was cooped up at home, too overstimulated to function like a regular personal, and Peasley had every right to be upset with him for balking on their plans and being a waste of oxygen and organic matter.

And for some reason only the Star Spirits could attest to, he wasn’t. Literal royalty sat at Luigi’s side, addressing him with fondness and requesting understanding of his inadequacies.

That was reason enough for Luigi to untangle himself from his blankets and pull them down, just enough to peek up and ensure the creature beside him was, in fact, not some fantastical fabrication from deep within his own fantasies.

“There you are.” Deep brown eyes beamed at him, revered him as a god among men, and for a moment Luigi felt that maybe he really was. “I feared I might not get to see that beautiful visage at all today.”

A swirl of conflicting emotions bubbled up within Luigi: confusion, joy, sadness, shame, filling every crevice of his body and compelling him to act. Hesitantly, he pulled the covers all the way down; the shedding of those protective layers made the buzzing in his limbs intensify, and the fresh air sent a chill through him, but breathing it in felt refreshing, even renewing. He filled his lungs, reached out, and accepted Peasley’s invitation at last.

The prince’s hand was pleasantly cool to the touch, and just as he had hoped, its stable presence calmed his racing heart. He tightened his grasp and tugged in order to pull himself up and scoot into an upright position. His head spun and his mouth was dry, but Peasley was here, and he would at least hear him out, and the loving gaze he fixed Luigi with gave him the courage to explain.

“Sometimes,” he began, “I… I mean, half the time, n-nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine, but for some reason the world is too loud and too bright a-and everything… hurts. It’s all just…” He balled his free hand into a fist and clenched as tightly as he could, and that at least lessened the buzz in the corresponding arm. “...too much.”

“Is that so?” Peasley said. There was genuine curiosity in his tone, sympathy in his eyes. “And today is such a day?”

Luigi nodded. “And I-I promise I tried fighting past it today. I didn’t wanna let you down, but…”

“Let me down? Luigi, I would never ask you to exceed your limitations for my sake.”

“But my limitations are—” He swallowed as well as he could, given his tongue felt woolen in his mouth. “Don’t you think it’s… don’t you think I’m kinda… kinda pathetic?”

The question gave Peasley pause, and where Luigi half-expected a denial, he was given only silence. But this silence wasn’t tense or uncertain; Peasley touched his index finger to his chin and cast his eyes aside, lips puckering and brows furrowing, the charmingly goofy expression of a Bean deep in thought.

He was… he was actually giving it serious consideration. And somehow that made his answer mean so much more than an immediate reassurance would have.

“…Not particularly, no,” he ultimately decided. “There are days where even I, skillful as I am, don’t feel quite up to par, and oftentimes there’s no good reason for it. Would you think less of me for such a thing?”

“Wha—? O-of course not!”

“And I think no less of you in turn.” Drawing Luigi’s hand to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss to his knuckles, his well-moisturized lips soft against the tight and dry skin. “Thank you for teaching me more about yourself, Greenie. I loathe to see you struggle, but I’m grateful that you would share those struggles with me.”

Once more Luigi’s heart raced, but no longer with fearful anxiety. Was this really possible? He was so certain he’d ruined Peasley’s day, so certain the repercussions would haunt him for years to come, and yet here he was, showering him with love and accepting him at one of his lower lows.

This wasn’t happening. Surely it wasn’t happening.

But it was, and the relief and gratitude and affection that flowed through his perpetually overstimulated body made Luigi want to slump forward, fall into Peasley’s arms, wait out the unpleasantness in the safety of his embrace.

At the same time, the thought of so much physical contact… he shuddered and relaxed his balled fist. Maybe holding hands was as much as he could manage today. But suddenly the thought of being alone again terrified him. “Will— will you stay? I-I don’t know where Mario’s at but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”

The smile Peasley flashed was both pleased and knowing. “Oh, rest assured, he’s not too far. He said he’d remain in the living room while we spoke.” Leaning in, he added beneath his breath: “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been listening in all this time. You know you have an excellent brother, do you not?”

At that, Luigi laughed, a mousey but authentic laugh. “You have an excellent brother” was Peasley Code for “Your brother has implicitly made threats against me that could have him declared a war criminal in the Beanbean Kingdom because he cares far more for your well being than his own.” Mario trusted Peasley and the two were good friends, sure, but he could get… rather intense when it came to his beloved little brother’s heart.

“Sorry about him,” Luigi whispered back.

“Rest assured, I’m happy for it! The more people looking after you, the better.” Peasley leaned back once more and stood, but he didn’t let go of Luigi’s hand. “Would you like some water?” he asked at his original volume. “And perhaps some lip balm? You’ve been licking and smacking your lips this entire time, you know.”

Luigi’s tongue darted between his lips automatically at that statement, and he realized Peasley was correct; not only were his throat and mouth still dry, but his lips were cracked. A bad habit of his, admittedly, and one he was never conscious of until someone else pointed it out. “Please. But—” He paused then, because making requests of a prince still didn’t feel quite right.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to make the request. Peasley gave his hand one more tight squeeze before dropping it and answering the silent question aloud.

“I’ll be only a moment,” he promised as he backed out of the room. “Nothing in all the world could convince me to leave your side, my love. You have my word.”

And though he still trembled in discomfort as his boyfriend took his leave, Luigi relaxed against the headboard, closing his eyes and sighing softly, because he knew it was the truth. Come hell or high water, full-functioning days or overload days, he knew now more certainly than ever that Peasley had no intention of abandoning him.

And he had to admit, that was a nice feeling.

#phew! this got long #I've got a note on my phone with short blurbs detailing the planned plots for upcoming wips #this one's blurb was literally just 'autistic burnout bitches'#I saw this prompt and knew IMMEDIATELY where I wanted to go with it so thank you so much for this #super mario bros #smb #luigi #prince peasley #mario & luigi superstar saga #m&l rpgs #luisley #luigi x peasley #peaches' fancy fics

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thecreaturecodex · 11 months

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What's your options on bugbears in Golorian being all serial killers or atleast obsessed with fear? I think that has room for, improvement. Definitely feels weird for them though.

I love it.

It's one of my favorite lore changes between D&D and Pathfinder. It makes bugbears feel less like "goblin, but giant". And Paizo has made it clear that some goblins mutate and just grow to Medium size, so you can have giant goblins if you want 'em.

@monstersdownthepath suggested that bugbears have a demonic taint to them. Despite their CE nature, I'd suggest sahkils instead. Bugbears are the Fear of Marauders, of Banditry, of Murder. Only they're mortal. But I bet a lot of their souls end up in Xilbaba when they die.

I imagine that small groups of bugbears are somewhere between bandit gangs and terrorist cells, roaming around and striking for maximum psychological impact as much as to get material goods. Larger communities would be like Halloweentown, only much less friendly. With running competitions for "most blood drained in a single evening". And adopting more terrible monsters into their numbers as Honorary Bugbears. Life's no fun without a good scare! If the Thing Hiding Under Your Stairs and The Shadow on the Moon At Night really wanted to kill you, and then looted your supplies and took over your village until the well runs dry or next year's crop doesn't plant itself. That's a bugbear clan.

I also love the implication in Ironfang Invasion, through characters like Scarvinious and Scabvistin (great naming convention too, IMO), that some, but not all, bugbears are envious of hobgoblins. They like the idea of civilization, of order and rigidity. And so they enlist. And because of their strength and power, they can succeed. If they "beat the bear" out, in Scabvistin's words.

So if you want to give bugbears another hook, here's my alternate, but not necessarily incompatible take. They're brood parasites. Because what's scarier than a baby that's not yours taking over your life?

We know that in Pathfinder canon, goblins and hobgoblins are both communal breeders (thanks to nursery locations in both Rise of the Runelords and Jade Regent). A mother bugbear sneaks into a goblin creche and leaves her baby behind, after killing one of the young and either eating it themselves or feeding it to Junior. The somewhat addlepated and mutation-prone goblins won't notice or mind a slightly hairier infant, right? And then the bugbear baby takes more than its fair share of resources, maybe knocks off a few of the other kids, and then either leaves the goblin colony at a young age in order to find more bugbears, or stays and muscles his way into a leadership position.

Doing the same to a hobgoblin community is riskier. The hobgoblins are much more in tune and observant. But in this case, it becomes more of a mutualistic relationship that could tip into parasitism on either end. Maybe the bugbear can get along in the hobgoblin village by learning discipline, or be content with the role of scavenger or brute. Or the bugbear could try to take over, if the hobgoblins are weak. And if the bugbear doesn't have the resources to survive and thrive, the hobgoblins send them off on a suicide mission.

And even though they only rely on other goblinoids for raising their young...most of the time, there are rumors that they do this to other peoples. Even if it happens once in a hundred years, everyone will know the story of how the Munson boy got very hairy and very big very quickly, and then slaughtered and spit-roasted the family dog when he was only 4? That kind of fear keeps the bugbears powerful. And makes the bugbears very happy.

#bugbear #pathfinder rpg #pathfinder 1e #pathfinder 2e #D&D #goblin #hobgoblin #goblinoid #ecology #brood parasite #plot hooks #did you hear the news about eddie munson?#could have been a werewolf of how keen his nose was and how big his sideburns grew #and then he burned down the family house and disappeared on his eighth birthday #you can still hear his laughin on the anniversary of that night #go to the ruins of the ol munson house if you don't believe me

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oneiriad · 4 months

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Crossover where the late Shen Qingqiu gets lost on his way to the mushroom body and ends up in Ghost City instead.

Years later Luo Binghe finds his way to Ghost City. But he'll only gamble with the Ghost King Crimson Rain Sought Flower himself, as befits an emperor, and the Ghost King is on his bi-monthly honeymoon, and so he must wait.

The snarky croupier ghost attendant assigned to him by the Waning Moon officer is decent enough company. Showing him the sights as he waits, arranging for him to receive private lessons from a ghost chef or two, being helpful, even if he does seem to have some odd preconceptions of what Binghe might like or dislike.

And then Hua Cheng returns and Luo Binghe makes his bet: to win the return of his Shizun's spirit.

He does not notice his ghost attendant squeaking and hiding behind a cultivator in white Daoist robes, a ghost that entirely misses Luo Binghe's reply to Hua Cheng asking what he'll bet. What does he have to offer of the same value.

"My life."

#the scum villain's self saving system #heaven official's blessing #It's always wangxian that goes to ghost city #But this time it's shen yuan #Who has been living a nice death free of the system #Possibly accidentally starting an rpg group in a corner of the gambler's den #And asking every new ghost about the demon emperor #And then binghe shows up and shen yuan presumes there's a wife plot #And then lbh makes his bet and poor sy panics too hard to hear anything else #And hides behind the only person who might make hc not cheerfully hand over a junior ghost

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eightyuh · 9 months

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Has Harry every gotten fleas?

ur dog boy may come with doggy traits

#untitled rpg #glendale goodwyn #glen #harry #ask #put a pin in this plot-point for later btw

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just-an-enby-lemon · 5 months

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I can't properly explain but nothing in this wolrd feels more like Sugarbowl Gen shennanigans to me then Edgar's Allan Poe: Murder Mystery Dinner Party by Shipwrecked. I'm soo sad I only found out about the show now because it's really good.

P.S: the fact that Poe is the sane man of the group's dinamic is very very amusing. Everyone is just a pure disaster and I love them (specially Oscar but again me? Loving Oscar Wide? What's new?).

#edgar allan poe murder mystery dinner party #shipwrecked comedy #asoue #sugar bowl gen #i want to write a fanfic where lemony invites them to a fun rpg murder mystery dinner party but people start dying #except poe is very jacques coded love story apart #unrequired love plot to be more expecific

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