Discord
11 hours ago
Fission_Mors: Cause ultimately theres not much to do anymore
Fission_Mors: no school, life sucks, no friends, hurts seeing all the whimsy gone
Fission_Mors: Mom's struggling to keep up, landlord and taxmen want us dead
Fission_Mors: World's dying and doing everything to kill us
Fission_Mors: I wanna believe theres some hope or magic that can fix us but if you don't got the answer to make it better
AbsoluteDante: Stop.
Fission_Mors: I dunno it might be better just to kill it all
AbsoluteDante: Hey.
Fission_Mors: give me the power to save it or kill it and start over
AbsoluteDante: Listen to me, you are giving me the kind of red flags I wouldn't trust with a knife.
AbsoluteDante: You wanna play hero? Tomorrow you're going to go to your gig, the guy is gonna take pity and send you home early. He'll hand you a weapon. You're gonna take that and I'm gonna send you the locale.
AbsoluteDante: Kill the bigshot and I'll get you whatever power you need.
Fission_Mors: bigshot?
AbsoluteDante: You wanna end the world? Prove you can take down one asshole. I'll contact you soon.
Connection Ended.
You have to wonder how much the entity could see you through the screen, you had another job with Mr. Ono handling "yardwork."
As always you made it there early to have a little conversation over coffee.
Today you were both locked into a bit of a rush job, at least moreso than usual.
Rich guy, heir to some old sports brand.
Body found by the neighbors. His extended family called in to bury him before the night could claim him.
No time for a autopsy, every death had to be cremated or buried before next sundown or find itself as a vessel for something awful.
Though... it's a bit hard to have too much sympathy these days for someone who can afford a real burial.
![[Image: Ono%202.png]](http://homebrewdeviants.com/static/Masa/NewCrankshafrt/Ono%202.png)
[image description: Mr. Ono, Pato's friend and mentor, dressed in suspenders with a hat holding a unusual tool. He stands tall with a calm energy to him, wearing a nice brimmed hat and suspenders.]
Mr. Ono was a member of the community who'd been around most of his adult life and was for the most part respected amongst the adults in the area. His sharp gaze, his clean look even when his hands got dirty, and his dedication to the idea that even hard times aren't a excuse to rob those the decency of a proper grave.
You often wondered if a little of that would rub off, maybe folks would hate you a little less.
Maybe.
Either way, he had taken you under his wing in the past year, found you work even when he didn't have any himself.
Despite the morbid nature of the job he always tended to tarp and wrap the body so you would never have to see or handle it directly.
That said... even the shape of a living person bundled up left you uneasy. There was no hiding the reality that the gathering of flies and demonic little wisps gleeful to take his skin were summoned by the corpse beneath.
With all that stated, you manage to both work quite quickly today, the soft lawn of a wealthy neighbor giving in to the shovel with the greatest of ease.
Finish the burial, finalize the grave and-
Mr. Ono: You should head home early. Got a feeling tonight's gonna be rough.
There was a very stern look on his face today.
Does he know?
That's unlikely but...
Pato: I haven't done my full hours...
Mr. Ono: Doesn't matter, put in plenty of work in that time. I can wrap up cleaning up the lot from here.
Pato: Really can't skip on maxing out pay, bills are bad and-
Mr. Ono: I know. Giving you your full pay anyway, you earned it. Kid like you shouldn't have to work so long and hard anyway. Long as you do your part, you deserve to live.
Pato: Think I'm good at it?
Mr. Ono: Mm.... better than most I've brought in. Being a undertaker's a hard job that nobody wants, you got the heart and the nerve for it.
Pato: Maybe you can teach me how to go all in on that, people die all the time so there's always be work-
Mr. Ono: Nope.
Pato: Nope...?
Mr. Ono: Don't set your goals so low. I do it cause putting people in the dirt's what I'm best at it. You got more promise than that.
He placed a hand on his pocket where a pack of cigarettes is visible, fingers ready to pull one out the moment he finished business with you.
Pato: You can smoke in front of me you know.
Mr. Ono: Mm? I can wait.
Pato: You're a ruffneck, right? Mom said you guys needed to smoke for health reasons.
Mr. Ono: Only when you don't make enough naturally..
Pato: Do you?
Mr. Ono: No.. but I can hold off for five minutes. Let me get you your pay and send you home..
He shuffles through his wallet before handing you a wad of cash, the biggest you've ever seen.
Pato: That's too much, right-?
Mr. Ono: Mm. Take it and don't show anyway.
He poked at your hand with the big stack. You almost flinch, more money than you've ever had on hand in your life.
Pato: Can I really have all that??
Mr. Ono: We got paid to do this quick, guy we're burying today's from a family with big money. You're getting a bonus too.
You immediately buried it deep in your pockets, your shoes, anywhere to avoid it all getting stolen at once.
You can absolutely pay rent with just this, maybe even treat your mom to something nice.
Mr. Ono: Take this too.
He reaches for a baseball bat he kept near his shovel and offers it to you. There's a brand logo slightly faded- *Mr. Tuning*
Pato: What's this for?
Mr. Ono: Protection. Old school manufacturing uses saltbaked irons, should chase off stragglers and bullies alike.
Saltbaked Irons in something so mundane... portable, doesn't draw negative attention.
You're surprised he's just giving this to you.
It's not unheard of, there's been stories stories of people fighting off the horrors of night with vintage pans and woks.
When rumors broke out, folks cleared out thrifts and swap meets of every old old kitchen tool they could find.
Stories of resellers scooping them up to overcharge or smelt them into coated bullets that couldn't be reused and machetes that'd wear and tear in months.
Don't want to think about that too much...
There's no way he can afford to give you all this, right? Was he expecting to die today? Maybe he's just worried but..
Pato: It's fine. Home's not that far-
Mr. Ono: Don't care. You head straight back, put it all somewhere safe. Gonna be a good while til we get another job that pays this good so don't spend it all at once.
Pato: Yeah, okay.
Mr. Ono: Straight home, put the money away
Pato: Mm..
You gave him one last little wave before making haste down the street.
Pato: Thank you, Mr. Ono!
Mr. Ono: I mean it, tell your mother I said hi!
Pato: Will do!
You make your way down the street as far as you can until there was no way he could be watching you.
You hated the idea of breaking a promise immediately but...
You already had plans made with the entity, god knows what happened to those who didn't keep their word.
You could feel something in your shoe misaligned, pausing to quickly adjust it.
There was something with poking at your ankle, irritating.
You pretended to tie your shoes to check.
It wasn't money, it was...
A business card?
Why?
Did he give that to you?
He'd given you one before to hand to your mom but... this wasn't his.
Dr Godhead, P.H.D and Master of Divine Services
There was a phone number, a address, and... a radio frequency?
You were promised directions would be given to you later today...
Only one way to find out.
___
You didn't come here too frequently to this part of town these days but you remembered a nice ice cream place your folks used to take you to.
A theater straight out of the past glowing in its age
A store simply labeled "SURPLUS" across the street from a Police Station.
A dusty bridal shop where the mannequins had roses for heads.
A library with stain glass windows.
A toy store covered in bootlegs and BB guns
It was incredible really, the old street was both beautiful and a emotional hospice
You step up to the office surrounded by fences and rotting concrete, a single floor home wedged between the leased out shops of the historical district.
![[Image: Ono%203.png]](http://homebrewdeviants.com/static/Masa/NewCrankshafrt/Ono%203.png)
[image description: The entrance of a private office, the text on the front door's screen is in a font and language of fantastical nature and decored with tacky stars.]
Dr. Godhead, Psychic. Fortune Telling and Financial Advice. First session is discounted!
Hell of a name, couldn't possibly been born with it.
Nerves felt like brittle guitar strings, the bat Mr. Ono handed you on your person.
Before you could knock, the door cracks open.
A older man in a suit, feline in nature with a distinctive mane filled with tarot cards.
His coke-bottled glasses swirled the light that peeked in, glow trapped in tinted lens.
![[Image: Ono%204.png]](http://homebrewdeviants.com/static/Masa/NewCrankshafrt/Ono%204.png)
[image description: Dr. Godhead peeking his head through the doorframe, one hand on the door itself. He is a tall anthropomorphic feline with scruffy fur invoking facial hair, a odd blazer, large round glasses, and cards sticking out of his dark fluffy hair.}
???: Sent a kid to kill me? That crook's playing dirty.
He offers you a hand.
???: Dr. Godhead, you saw my sign outside-
Pato: Yeah.
Dr. Godhead.: Then you know you can't hide anything from me. You want a fight? I'll do it but you gotta be read to pay the entry fee.
Pato: I- What?
Dr. Godhead: I'm not taking you on unless it's a fair one. That bat's nice but it's not gonna do all that much.
He lowered his head to you.
Dr. Godhead: Swing, take a crack as hard as you can. See for yourself.
Your chest hurt, saying you'd kill a guy is one thing but actually having to commit to the act..
Dr. Godhead: What's the matter? Cold feet? Didn't offer you enough? Take the swing or next time you show I'm putting a hole in your chest.
You had to do it. Less you thought about it, the easier.
You reach for your bat and take the swing, only for it to thump against a invisible wall inches away.
Dr. Godhead: See that?
Pato: See w-what.
Dr. Godhead: ...Dante's been slacking, a kid with a bat without any magic of his own. Set you up to fail.
Pato: He didn't even give me the bat...
Dr. Godhead: Course he didn't....
He gesture over toward a dimly lit table with large wide chairs across from each other, cloth and tarot deck already set neatly in place.
Dr. Godhead: Sit.
Pato: Me-?
Dr. Godhead: No questions til you're in that chair.
Reluctantly, you made your way over and sat down.
As if made from the shadows themselves, his form seemed to fill in the opposite seat.
Dr. Godhead: Show me the cash upfront.
You pull out your wallet, stacked with bills.
His eyes went wide.
Dr. Godhead: He pay you upfront like that-
Pato: Did a job today, prepped a burial.
Dr. Godhead: Yeah? With who?
Pato: Mr. Ono...
He dropped a bitter laugh.
Dr. Godhead: Guessing you work hard then, yeah?
Pato: I guess.
Dr. Godhead: That one's a good man, gave up too early though. Guy's a natural Brewer you know? Gets his contracts done, keeps other folks safe, had a hell of a proxy himself back in the day. He know about this at all?
Pato: Don't think so.
Dr. Godhead: Then he's still keeping a low-profile. World's ending, never think he'd stay quiet. For the best though, doing the same myself. God knows the moment I stick my nose in a high spot my scumbag kids are gonna come for me.
He shuffled the deck.
Dr. Godhead: They took my contracts and everything-
You cut him off.
Pato: Are you one of those entities?
Dr. Godhead: Me? No, god no. But I got plenty of power on my own. I'm gonna share mine with you, make sure our fight is fair. You win? I ain't gonna be able to charge you a dime or hold you accountable. Practically free, right?
There's no backing out, if you come home broke the landlord is going to utterly fuck you and your mom.
He laid out a set of three cards.
Dr. Godhead: Pick one before I change my mind.
Past: VIII. Lust, Reversed
A card signifying the inability to find the confidence, you betrayed your true nature and as a result were unable to show Strength. It will defy you until you turn fault into virtue. A power for those who will endure struggle until they are harder than diamond.
Base Class: The Coward Knight
Associated Subclass: The Tempered Atoner
"My sword is yours to fight your worst self."
Present: XIV. The Art
A card that represents. adaptability of mortals to find ways to change their world and their fate, the gift of creation. The heart of curiosity that lingers inside everyone. A power for those who want to conquered the world through scientific means.
Base Title: The Aspiring Alchemist
Associated Subclass: The Master of Today
"The world is your canvas and I am the brush."
Future: XX. The Aeon
A card for those who face fate and eternity with only their true face. It rings familiar, though you can't quite pin down why. It radiates fate. A power for those who wish to endure the judgment of THE UNIVERSE in stride.
Base Class: The Imaginary Soldier
Associated Subclass: The Future King
"I'll be there for you in every lifetime..."
This is not a interactive project, The beginning of the end is locked in place.
This Project WILL lie to your face so pick your calling while there is chance to defy futility
Fission_Mors: no school, life sucks, no friends, hurts seeing all the whimsy gone
Fission_Mors: Mom's struggling to keep up, landlord and taxmen want us dead
Fission_Mors: World's dying and doing everything to kill us
Fission_Mors: I wanna believe theres some hope or magic that can fix us but if you don't got the answer to make it better
AbsoluteDante: Stop.
Fission_Mors: I dunno it might be better just to kill it all
AbsoluteDante: Hey.
Fission_Mors: give me the power to save it or kill it and start over
AbsoluteDante: Listen to me, you are giving me the kind of red flags I wouldn't trust with a knife.
AbsoluteDante: You wanna play hero? Tomorrow you're going to go to your gig, the guy is gonna take pity and send you home early. He'll hand you a weapon. You're gonna take that and I'm gonna send you the locale.
AbsoluteDante: Kill the bigshot and I'll get you whatever power you need.
Fission_Mors: bigshot?
AbsoluteDante: You wanna end the world? Prove you can take down one asshole. I'll contact you soon.
Connection Ended.
You have to wonder how much the entity could see you through the screen, you had another job with Mr. Ono handling "yardwork."
As always you made it there early to have a little conversation over coffee.
Today you were both locked into a bit of a rush job, at least moreso than usual.
Rich guy, heir to some old sports brand.
Body found by the neighbors. His extended family called in to bury him before the night could claim him.
No time for a autopsy, every death had to be cremated or buried before next sundown or find itself as a vessel for something awful.
Though... it's a bit hard to have too much sympathy these days for someone who can afford a real burial.
[image description: Mr. Ono, Pato's friend and mentor, dressed in suspenders with a hat holding a unusual tool. He stands tall with a calm energy to him, wearing a nice brimmed hat and suspenders.]
Mr. Ono was a member of the community who'd been around most of his adult life and was for the most part respected amongst the adults in the area. His sharp gaze, his clean look even when his hands got dirty, and his dedication to the idea that even hard times aren't a excuse to rob those the decency of a proper grave.
You often wondered if a little of that would rub off, maybe folks would hate you a little less.
Maybe.
Either way, he had taken you under his wing in the past year, found you work even when he didn't have any himself.
Despite the morbid nature of the job he always tended to tarp and wrap the body so you would never have to see or handle it directly.
That said... even the shape of a living person bundled up left you uneasy. There was no hiding the reality that the gathering of flies and demonic little wisps gleeful to take his skin were summoned by the corpse beneath.
With all that stated, you manage to both work quite quickly today, the soft lawn of a wealthy neighbor giving in to the shovel with the greatest of ease.
Finish the burial, finalize the grave and-
Mr. Ono: You should head home early. Got a feeling tonight's gonna be rough.
There was a very stern look on his face today.
Does he know?
That's unlikely but...
Pato: I haven't done my full hours...
Mr. Ono: Doesn't matter, put in plenty of work in that time. I can wrap up cleaning up the lot from here.
Pato: Really can't skip on maxing out pay, bills are bad and-
Mr. Ono: I know. Giving you your full pay anyway, you earned it. Kid like you shouldn't have to work so long and hard anyway. Long as you do your part, you deserve to live.
Pato: Think I'm good at it?
Mr. Ono: Mm.... better than most I've brought in. Being a undertaker's a hard job that nobody wants, you got the heart and the nerve for it.
Pato: Maybe you can teach me how to go all in on that, people die all the time so there's always be work-
Mr. Ono: Nope.
Pato: Nope...?
Mr. Ono: Don't set your goals so low. I do it cause putting people in the dirt's what I'm best at it. You got more promise than that.
He placed a hand on his pocket where a pack of cigarettes is visible, fingers ready to pull one out the moment he finished business with you.
Pato: You can smoke in front of me you know.
Mr. Ono: Mm? I can wait.
Pato: You're a ruffneck, right? Mom said you guys needed to smoke for health reasons.
Mr. Ono: Only when you don't make enough naturally..
Pato: Do you?
Mr. Ono: No.. but I can hold off for five minutes. Let me get you your pay and send you home..
He shuffles through his wallet before handing you a wad of cash, the biggest you've ever seen.
Pato: That's too much, right-?
Mr. Ono: Mm. Take it and don't show anyway.
He poked at your hand with the big stack. You almost flinch, more money than you've ever had on hand in your life.
Pato: Can I really have all that??
Mr. Ono: We got paid to do this quick, guy we're burying today's from a family with big money. You're getting a bonus too.
You immediately buried it deep in your pockets, your shoes, anywhere to avoid it all getting stolen at once.
You can absolutely pay rent with just this, maybe even treat your mom to something nice.
Mr. Ono: Take this too.
He reaches for a baseball bat he kept near his shovel and offers it to you. There's a brand logo slightly faded- *Mr. Tuning*
Pato: What's this for?
Mr. Ono: Protection. Old school manufacturing uses saltbaked irons, should chase off stragglers and bullies alike.
Saltbaked Irons in something so mundane... portable, doesn't draw negative attention.
You're surprised he's just giving this to you.
It's not unheard of, there's been stories stories of people fighting off the horrors of night with vintage pans and woks.
When rumors broke out, folks cleared out thrifts and swap meets of every old old kitchen tool they could find.
Stories of resellers scooping them up to overcharge or smelt them into coated bullets that couldn't be reused and machetes that'd wear and tear in months.
Don't want to think about that too much...
There's no way he can afford to give you all this, right? Was he expecting to die today? Maybe he's just worried but..
Pato: It's fine. Home's not that far-
Mr. Ono: Don't care. You head straight back, put it all somewhere safe. Gonna be a good while til we get another job that pays this good so don't spend it all at once.
Pato: Yeah, okay.
Mr. Ono: Straight home, put the money away
Pato: Mm..
You gave him one last little wave before making haste down the street.
Pato: Thank you, Mr. Ono!
Mr. Ono: I mean it, tell your mother I said hi!
Pato: Will do!
You make your way down the street as far as you can until there was no way he could be watching you.
You hated the idea of breaking a promise immediately but...
You already had plans made with the entity, god knows what happened to those who didn't keep their word.
You could feel something in your shoe misaligned, pausing to quickly adjust it.
There was something with poking at your ankle, irritating.
You pretended to tie your shoes to check.
It wasn't money, it was...
A business card?
Why?
Did he give that to you?
He'd given you one before to hand to your mom but... this wasn't his.
Dr Godhead, P.H.D and Master of Divine Services
There was a phone number, a address, and... a radio frequency?
You were promised directions would be given to you later today...
Only one way to find out.
___
You didn't come here too frequently to this part of town these days but you remembered a nice ice cream place your folks used to take you to.
A theater straight out of the past glowing in its age
A store simply labeled "SURPLUS" across the street from a Police Station.
A dusty bridal shop where the mannequins had roses for heads.
A library with stain glass windows.
A toy store covered in bootlegs and BB guns
It was incredible really, the old street was both beautiful and a emotional hospice
You step up to the office surrounded by fences and rotting concrete, a single floor home wedged between the leased out shops of the historical district.
[image description: The entrance of a private office, the text on the front door's screen is in a font and language of fantastical nature and decored with tacky stars.]
Dr. Godhead, Psychic. Fortune Telling and Financial Advice. First session is discounted!
Hell of a name, couldn't possibly been born with it.
Nerves felt like brittle guitar strings, the bat Mr. Ono handed you on your person.
Before you could knock, the door cracks open.
A older man in a suit, feline in nature with a distinctive mane filled with tarot cards.
His coke-bottled glasses swirled the light that peeked in, glow trapped in tinted lens.
[image description: Dr. Godhead peeking his head through the doorframe, one hand on the door itself. He is a tall anthropomorphic feline with scruffy fur invoking facial hair, a odd blazer, large round glasses, and cards sticking out of his dark fluffy hair.}
???: Sent a kid to kill me? That crook's playing dirty.
He offers you a hand.
???: Dr. Godhead, you saw my sign outside-
Pato: Yeah.
Dr. Godhead.: Then you know you can't hide anything from me. You want a fight? I'll do it but you gotta be read to pay the entry fee.
Pato: I- What?
Dr. Godhead: I'm not taking you on unless it's a fair one. That bat's nice but it's not gonna do all that much.
He lowered his head to you.
Dr. Godhead: Swing, take a crack as hard as you can. See for yourself.
Your chest hurt, saying you'd kill a guy is one thing but actually having to commit to the act..
Dr. Godhead: What's the matter? Cold feet? Didn't offer you enough? Take the swing or next time you show I'm putting a hole in your chest.
You had to do it. Less you thought about it, the easier.
You reach for your bat and take the swing, only for it to thump against a invisible wall inches away.
Dr. Godhead: See that?
Pato: See w-what.
Dr. Godhead: ...Dante's been slacking, a kid with a bat without any magic of his own. Set you up to fail.
Pato: He didn't even give me the bat...
Dr. Godhead: Course he didn't....
He gesture over toward a dimly lit table with large wide chairs across from each other, cloth and tarot deck already set neatly in place.
Dr. Godhead: Sit.
Pato: Me-?
Dr. Godhead: No questions til you're in that chair.
Reluctantly, you made your way over and sat down.
As if made from the shadows themselves, his form seemed to fill in the opposite seat.
Dr. Godhead: Show me the cash upfront.
You pull out your wallet, stacked with bills.
His eyes went wide.
Dr. Godhead: He pay you upfront like that-
Pato: Did a job today, prepped a burial.
Dr. Godhead: Yeah? With who?
Pato: Mr. Ono...
He dropped a bitter laugh.
Dr. Godhead: Guessing you work hard then, yeah?
Pato: I guess.
Dr. Godhead: That one's a good man, gave up too early though. Guy's a natural Brewer you know? Gets his contracts done, keeps other folks safe, had a hell of a proxy himself back in the day. He know about this at all?
Pato: Don't think so.
Dr. Godhead: Then he's still keeping a low-profile. World's ending, never think he'd stay quiet. For the best though, doing the same myself. God knows the moment I stick my nose in a high spot my scumbag kids are gonna come for me.
He shuffled the deck.
Dr. Godhead: They took my contracts and everything-
You cut him off.
Pato: Are you one of those entities?
Dr. Godhead: Me? No, god no. But I got plenty of power on my own. I'm gonna share mine with you, make sure our fight is fair. You win? I ain't gonna be able to charge you a dime or hold you accountable. Practically free, right?
There's no backing out, if you come home broke the landlord is going to utterly fuck you and your mom.
He laid out a set of three cards.
Dr. Godhead: Pick one before I change my mind.
Past: VIII. Lust, Reversed
A card signifying the inability to find the confidence, you betrayed your true nature and as a result were unable to show Strength. It will defy you until you turn fault into virtue. A power for those who will endure struggle until they are harder than diamond.
Base Class: The Coward Knight
Associated Subclass: The Tempered Atoner
"My sword is yours to fight your worst self."
Present: XIV. The Art
A card that represents. adaptability of mortals to find ways to change their world and their fate, the gift of creation. The heart of curiosity that lingers inside everyone. A power for those who want to conquered the world through scientific means.
Base Title: The Aspiring Alchemist
Associated Subclass: The Master of Today
"The world is your canvas and I am the brush."
Future: XX. The Aeon
A card for those who face fate and eternity with only their true face. It rings familiar, though you can't quite pin down why. It radiates fate. A power for those who wish to endure the judgment of THE UNIVERSE in stride.
Base Class: The Imaginary Soldier
Associated Subclass: The Future King
"I'll be there for you in every lifetime..."
This is not a interactive project, The beginning of the end is locked in place.
This Project WILL lie to your face so pick your calling while there is chance to defy futility
