#players as eldritch horrors

[eyesoverinfinity]

Kinds of players

This is not a "What kind of person are people who play like this" post.

This is a post about an idea that I had. What if protagonists get possessed differently depending on what genre they are in? And what if the players themselves looked different because of it?

I have made pixel art about some different forms but I couldn't think of one for every genre. So if you have an idea feel free to comment about it!

Forms under the cut:

Horror player:

A real 'sneak up behind you and grab you' kinda possession. If the lack of footsteps and intangibility don't get you, the tendrils will. Ironically, their powers and nature are often just as horrific as the monsters they are used to running from.

Fighting/ beat em up game player:

These players prey on take advantage of their hosts need to fight others, they take the form of a generic but vaguely menacing figure and wait for their target to hit them first. They then possess the target upon contact.

Mystery/detective games:

These players take a more subtle approach to possession. They take the form of an object that's just a bit out of place, for their targets are the kind of people that notice these details. Like the Fighting game players, they take control on contact.

Party games:

Party game players are not subtle or sneaky. They overwhelm the world they enter with size and numbers. While most players take the shape of the genre of the game that has the multiplayer, party game players are seen as one void with thousands of hands in is. The ones that move are the ones that are players.

That's all I could think of. If you have any suggestions feel for to comment about them!

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 3 ]

{☆} characters neuvillette, wriothesley, furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ]

Wriothesley was not a man of superstition. He did not kneel at the altars until his knees bled, he did not pray until his voice gave out– he did not, contrary to popular belief, suffer divine punishment for his apparent lack of respect.

After all, what Divine would look so deep beneath the waves just for a glimpse of the sinners that inhabit it?

Not them, evidently.

He hadn't slept in the past four days, though. There was a heavy air of something where ever he walked– it followed him like a thick fog, lingering and choking him until it dragged him to his knees like a chain. His thoughts inevitably linger on the striking, extravagant letter so conveniently adorning his desk at the fortress– the broken wax seal, the letter tucked into his pocket.

He'd recognize the seal of the Iudex any day. Wasn't often he spoke to him– but the shaky, distorted words hastily etched into the paper made him pause. Neuvillette always had a steady hand– elegant, flowing script that him of flowing water.

It had kept him up for days.

The implications were..haunting. He'd poured over the letter for hours, illuminated only by faint light of his desk lamp. Yet no matter how many times he tries to see what must be hidden beneath the ink, the paper itself even, he finds nothing but the shaky script of a request that sends a bolt of pure frost through his veins.

He noticed, of course, the odd goings on of Fontaine. He'd heard vague whispers of the Divine's hunt for the imposter– he'd heard, too, of the ceaseless rain pelting Fontaine until even he wondered if the nation would finally sink beneath the waves.

It didn't, though. And that only made it all the more odd. Days of constant rain, just for it to stop suddenly..he tugged his coat tighter around him, throwing up the hood of the cloak clasped even tighter over it with a grunt as he leaned around the corner of the alleyway.

He didn't believe in superstition, but this was too hard to ignore as a simple weather anomaly.

Maybe that was why he ignored his gut– he knew that this was probably a trap, at the very least it was suspicious. But damn it, he couldn't ignore the instinct to follow the only lead he had.

His boots clicked against the rain stricken streets as he stalked through the shadows, mindful of the clinking of machine patrols just a few streets away. Yet every step felt heavier then the last as he took a long, good look at the Palais Mermonia. He almost considered bringing out his gauntlets, but he thought better of it– if it came down to it, he needed information. And he would need whoever was waiting for him alive for that– the dead don't speak and all that.

The letter's directions led him in a..rather roundabout entrance to a secluded room, evidently, as he lifted his hand and quietly knocked against the door. Two rapid knocks, pause, another knock, pause, four knocks. It doesn't take long until he hears the latch of the door unlock.

The leather of his gloves creaks as he clenches his fists, adjusting his stance. He's ready for a fight, if he must, but as the door quietly slides open he feel the weight on his shoulders relax slightly– the familiar, sharp features of Neuvillette meets him. He almost reflexively smiles at the way his pupils turn into thin slits, a momentary surprise that he quickly hides well behind a cough and the creak of the door as he pulls it open fully.

"Wriothesley. I see my letter has found you well. Please, come in." Polite as ever, Neuvillette steps aside to let him in, but he can see the exhaustion lining his features– the bags under his eyes aren't as well hidden as he thinks, at least to him. "Bit odd to be inviting me all the way out here in the middle of the night, don't you think?"

His tone is smooth as he steps into the room, brushing down his hood and glancing at Neuvillette over his shoulder, watching as he shuts and locks the door behind him.

"I apologize for the..less then ideal circumstances, but I'm certain you will understand when you see for yourself." He wants to retort, but the Iudex beats him to it, vaguely motioning to the room behind him. An invitation– but he wonders if it's worth taking.

His gut says no, but he's feeling a little risky today, he supposes.

He turns back slowly, barely able to make out the two figures he'd missed on the first glance on the other side of the room– though it's hard to mistake the flourish of the Hydro Archon, even in the dark. It's the other figure that makes the breath hitch in his throat, though.

Or maybe, more accurately, it freezes. So does his blood, his whole body even, locked in stasis for a long, tense moment– he can't see them clearly, but his instincts are going haywire. He can feel his vision almost rattle where it rests against his left shoulder, cold leaking through the layers of clothes and into his skin until he has to fight to suppress a shiver.

He'd always fancied himself the hunter– he was the one who dealt with unsavory folks, in the end. But he felt like a rabbit pinned beneath the crosshairs of a gun this time. He could almost feel the teeth of the bear trap snapping shut around him, crushing bone and flesh beneath cold metal.

For a long moment he thinks he feels fear.

And with a sharp click and a burst of light, it's gone and he takes a raspy, choked breath as he blinks away the blurriness in his vision, taking in the room illuminated by the lamp.

He's not sure what he sees is better, though.

Because his body knows that their Divinity is as real as the blood running through his veins.

So why do they remind him so much of himself? Why does he see the look of the boy who died in a pool of blood not his own in them?

It is a sick, cruel kind of familiar.

Wriothesley didn't believe in superstition– but that was born of the unknown. He knew, now. He could reach out and touch the truth with his own two hands.

The throne of the world was a lie.

The thing sitting on it bled red. And if it bled, it could die.

He clenched his fists tighter– and released, letting his shoulders slump with a huff and a half hearted chuckle. "I wasn't expecting you to be in possession of a wanted criminal when you sent me that letter." He could see the gears whirring in their heads, the subtle dampness in the air reminding him just how delicate a situation it truly was.

He wasn't particularly inclined to getting blasted by a jet of water today.

"Relax, I'm not going to spill to anyone else. Seriously– don't get my jacket wet. It's expensive and a nightmare to dry." His lips quirk into a half smile, but it twists into something almost genuine at the laugh covered up by a cough he hears from the Divine. Bingo.

"It's fine, Neuvillette. Let him go." Their voice is like honey dripping from their lips, and he has to close his jaw with his hand before they can see the way it dropped in his surprise. "Of course, most Divine. My apologies." He relaxes at the sharp click of his heels as he joins them on the bed, his posture far more relaxed then he's ever seen. The Hydro Archon, much to his confusion and amusement, is far too invested in playing with their hair to pay much attention to him now that things have calmed, evidently.

Huh.

They seemed pretty cozy about it, he noted. He guesses they three of them had some time to get acquainted.

"So..who's going to explain what the hell is going on?" He probed, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the three carefully– they all looked tired, but even through the exhaustion neither seemed inclined to stray too far from the Divine. "And what exactly your plan is? You can't keep hiding them here forever. Someone will sniff them out sooner or later."

"We are aware," Neuvillette interjects, lips pursed into a thin line and his thin brows furrowed. "But as I'm sure you've noticed, the hunt for the..forgive me, most Divine, but the hunt for the alleged imposter is still at it's peak."

He grumbles in acknowledgment, hanging up his cloak by the door and sliding out of his heavy coat, resting it over the back of a nearby chair. "Hm. Suppose that's why the patrols are so common now a days."

"I'm afraid so. As you can imagine, we cannot simply ask them to..stop the search. It would draw unwanted attention and suspicion. The Divine would be found immediately if we tried to bring them out of the city at the moment." Neuvillette added, looking proper and elegant, despite the circumstances– even in the face of the Divine and the Archon turning on him and tugging his hair into intricate braids. "So I hope you understand that it was a great risk to send you that letter."

He rubs his chin, huffing in amusement– a solid plan, maybe, but his power didn't extend too far out of the Fortress. He had his connections, sure, but what use were they when he had to get the, uh, "imposter" out of Fontaine? Smuggling them out wouldn't be easy, and then there's the point of where to take them they'd have to contend with.

"Yeah, yeah– I get it. But it's not like I can just smuggle them out or keep them in the fortress. Even if we got them out of the city, we'd have to find somewhere to bunker down, and if someone spots any of us lingering there.." Archons, what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He was really looking forward to the next time he could kick his feet up with a cup of tea.

"I understand. I have already made plans, in fact." Neuvillette hesitates, and he can feel the temperature drops a few degrees. "I..cannot share them in full at the moment, but it is not for a lack of trust." Neuvillette reasoned, hands folded neatly in his lap– not that it hid the way they shook slightly. He wanted to ask, but he thought better of it.

"Eh, I don't hold it against you. The walls have ears, even up here." He deflected, running a hand through his hair. He really hoped Sigewinne wouldn't ask too much when he gets back. "I trust your judgment." He hesitates for a long moment, pulling out a simple, neatly folded letter of his own.

"Memorize the code words, then burn it. I'll be waiting for your next letter." He murmurs, plucking his coat and cloak and tugging them back on one after another, shuffling back over to the latched door. He hesitates again, his hand lingering on the door.

"I just hope your plan is worth the risk, Neuvillette."

He leaves before he can respond, the harsh click of the door ringing in his ears even as he steps back into the shadows of the night.

[ask-that-weird-dog]

Kris. Kris. Kris. Of the two, do you prefer moss or potassium more?

* (You get the feeling this is about to be a very, very weird day.)

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[sleep-isnt-real]

Idiot Flute-Player and his dumb little guy music.

[theribbajack]

“Time’s up, chica. I can save them, all of them. But you have to want it... let’s say we shake on it.”

Much as I love the sad rat man we got, I think Bruno was a real missed opportunity for a really good villain. With a bit of clever writing he could have gone the way of John Silver and had, like, an actual character arc and redeemed himself by the end. Oh well, I can dream :)

[loregoddess]

the Queen's Blood sub-story veering off into cosmic horror is so funny to me bc while all the other players are reacting to the cosmic horror bits as you would expect characters in a cosmic horror story to react, Cloud's just sitting there looking unfazed but slightly concerned for the other players, bc he deals with bizarre visions and headaches on the regular, and so the Secret Forbidden Knowledge Horror of Queen's Blood isn't actually out of the norm for him, and obviously still less of a threat than Sephiroth

[deus-and-the-machina]

I actually like the watchers but only my idea of them lol. too many people make them so serious big evil guys. they should be kinda sillay. guys around a table discussing what gimmick they can give the next death game with grian leading the group discussion. grian wasnt supposed to join the game bc he was the supervisor dammit now they need to get someone else.

Like every life series they’re not too terribly upset to be there lol. I’m 99% percent sure grian went around to his friends like hey I got us a little world did all the paperwork and stuff and get this. its a murder world. and they were like omg sign me up. upsetting stuff tm does Happen but ultimately. they are still like yippee I'd do that again. 

the life series is ultimately less and more angsty than it appears on the surface. its a bunch of friends going to murder resort server island that their friend reserved for them then pissed off the actual responsibilities for maintaining murder resort island bc he also wanted to take part in the murder :((((

anyways I just think if you’re taking the series literally it’s kind of impossible to act like they’re forcefully stuck in a miserable cycle they’re all having a great time. and idk just evil watchers is boring. like the games have kept going on they’re mildly miffed with grian but it certainly hasn't amounted to much if anything. they sigh and shake their fists but grians like that one coworker who really isnt doing his job correctly but he’s funny so. its ok. at least he’s entertaining.

[girlbob-boypants]

the new dnd books have beautiful artwork

[littler3d]

I refuse to believe that NPMD, Black Friday, and TGWDLM take place in the same universe because there’s no way in hell Wiggly and the other siblings would let their brother control their apocalypses

[wilderflcwers]

Contemplating the narrative implications of multiclassing into warlock partway through the game....... like. you've already got a mind-flayer parasite in your head, two devils spying on you CIA-style, a vampire lord trying to ubereats monster hunters to your zip code, a lich queen liching about. you wonder if the gods are watching you. AND now all of the sudden you're in a situationship with an archfey????????

[eosofspades]

i hate how difficult making massive projects is when it comes to art i am having the GREATEST idea for a video game but the only way it can come to actualization the way it needs to be to make it work is if i could get it picked up by a triple A studio

[not-your-lifeline]

I'm so uncontrollable I managed to persuade The Ancestor to be the most wholesome grandfather.

I cried so pitifully and asked him to stay(by acting childish and pleading him to "not leave me alone") so he literally took control over Heart of Darkness to watch over his young granddaughter(which is a physical manifestation of The Light and also only remaining person in his bloodline)

He's like 'you know what? I don't like being evil anymore' and decided to be the most extreme overprotective & overpowered grandpa

[monsterinthemountain]

I really need to make a Pinterest board for bev

[casburtoncreates]

I know that y’all are gonna be degenerates about my boys. I’m prepared for this. Don’t test me.

[gothic-cepho]

i’m dragging my friends up to loch ness for a week for my birthday so naturally we’re gonna play dnd in person and the current front-runner is a blank-sheet-amnesiac one-shot i’ve had done for literal years

except now im rereading over it i hate it so i’m redoing the whole one-shot 🙃

[dattosreblogs]

WH- omg thats so fucking sick.

the demon that comes when people call its name