#since its about the system

[atthebell]

I think that you should do what you want. If you want to make a giant robot with all the elements, do it. So long as everyone is having fun, it's fine. But if a character wants to do a thing that's in the book and you don't let them, and they're sad about that, you should think about why that's something you're preventing. The way to play RPGs is to make sure everyone enjoys it, the way that works best for everyone involved.

Cellbit talking a bit about how to make sure RPGs work for you and your party, rather than backing you into a corner, and talking a bit about worldbuilding.

Full transcripts in Pt-Br & Eng below ↓

Pt-Br:

Primeira mensagem de TTS: Cellbit, comecei a mestrar um RPG com o seu sistema, mas meus players ficaram bravos porque eu fazer algumas leves alterações, o que você acha disso?

Cellbit: Acho que você faz cê quiser, o jogo é seu, mano. Cê comprou o livro, você comprou o jogo. Se cê quiser fazer um robo gigante de todos os elementos, cê faz. Desde que todo mundo esteja se divertindo, tá tudo bem. Mas você mudou coisas que eles, tipo sim, se um personagem queria fazer um bagulho que tá no livro e você não deixou, e ele ficou triste com isso, às vezes, pensa, porque é algo que não deixou? Sei lá, mano, o jeito de jogar RPGs é o jeito que todo mundo gosta, o jeito que fica melhor pra todo mundo. Cê precisa jogar o ordem do jeito que eu jogo-- até eu. E se for questão de regra, até eu mudo regra, eu sou péssimo de lembrar regra, mano, eu faço que acho é mais legal na hora. Independente se tá exatamente-- óbvio que, em questão de lore, de narrativa, eu sou muito minucioso porque, obviamente, eu sou o fonte principal do lore, né? Mas em questão de regra, de sistema, de dado, matemática, eu mudo tempo todo.

Outra mensagem de TTS: Cellbit, eu to tentando criar um RPG e to escrevendo a historia do mundo, você tem alguma dica pra escrever um mundo?

Cellbit: Começa pequena e vai expandindo. Não tenta fazer um bagulho enorme porque só vai ter dor de cabeça e é bem provável que fique chato. Se você escreve uma historia e depois vai expandindo o universo aos pouquinhos, cê vai sempre preenchendo o que você sente precisa e aí nunca fica maçante demais. E depois cê pode fazer um retcon se você sente que algo que cê fez antigamente seria melhor de outro jeito, não é crime.

Eng translation:

First TTS message: Cellbit, I started GMing an RPG with your system, but my players got mad because I made some small changes, what do you think about this?

Cellbit: I think that you should do what you want, man. You bought the book, you bought the game. If you want to make a giant robot with all the elements, do it. So long as everyone is having fun, it's fine. But if you change things that they, like, if a character wants to do a thing that's in the book and you don't let them, and they're sad about that, you should think about why that's something you're preventing. Look, man, the way to play RPGs is to make sure everyone enjoys it, the way that works best for everyone involved. You need to play Ordem the way I play Ordem-- even me. If it's a question of rules, even I change rules, I'm awful at remembering rules, man, I do what I think is most cool in the moment. Independent of what's exactly-- obviously, if it's a question of lore, of narrative, I'm super particular because, obviously, I'm the main source of lore, right? But in a question of rules, of system, of dice*, math, I change things all the time.

Other TTS message: Cellbit, I'm trying to create an RPG and I'm writing the story of the world, do you have any tips for world-building?

Cellbit: Start small and start expanding. Don't try to make an enormous thing because it's just going to give you a headache and will probably turn out boring. If you write a story and afterwards expand the universe little by little, you'll always fill in what you feel you need and then it won't become too tiresome. And afterwards you can do a retcon if you feel like there's something you did previously that could be done in a better way, that's not a crime.

*I want to note here that I think he means ignoring a dice roll to let someone do cool shit regardless of how poorly they rolled. People roll like shit way too often in Ordem for them to be faking rolls tbh

[sweetdreamspootypie]

Does anyone have any recs for reputable orgs for Jewish solidarity for Palestine?

[sunmoonclouds]

my contribution to getting shadowpeach bio parents au trending @kyri45

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[rhiangalaxy]

Working on my Binghe designs! (Some design notes under the cut :p)

Edit: Had to reupload the image because I forgot his demon mark 😭

[ID: A Scum Villain Drawing. There are three half body shots of Luo Binghe in books 2-3, book 4 to post-canon and Luo Bingge. The left most Binghe from books 2-3 wears a tired, upset expression with less fluffy hair and primarily red and black clothing. The middle Binghe from book 4 and post-canon is wearing a remarkably happier and lovestruck expression, with much fluffier and curly hair. He is wearing a green hair ribbon around his throat, green jade earrings and light green inner robes. His outer robes are dark grey and red. Bingge is wearing an angered expression. His hair is noticeably straighter and has a small braid on the left side. He is wearing black and dark red robes. End ID]

[ID: Notes from the illustration above. In the book 2-3 version there are notes stating that his hair piece is from Huan Hua, and that his hair is less fluffy with the quote 'what no shizun does to a mf'. The second Binghe has notes that his side braids are done by Shen Qingqiu and that the hair ribbon around his neck was given to him by SQQ during his disciple days. The notes about Bingge state that the braid is from the Bingmei vs. Bingge Extra and that his hair is straightened. End ID] 

[yuwuta]

gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story

REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you 

but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact. 

he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared. 

he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date 

[xenoliith]

I've been thinking about how "Mammalians Nurturable" is phrased the same way as "Accounts Payable"...

It's possible that their job is just to raise the goats to the point where they can be shipped out as a commodity, like how AP departments are in charge of making sure a company's funds are properly allocated to B2B vendors that they purchase from.

Considering the fact that Lumon is a biotech company that probably performs (or supplies other companies for) lab animal trials, it'd make sense for them to want their own in-house supply of goats that are reared in very controlled environments on some campuses, to be shipped out to the other branches (or companies) that maybe don't have room for a whole goat field on the sublevel. That way, they have a steady supply of livestock with as many variables removed as possible.

[starry-bi-sky]

no context snippet for a "SY is SJ" au i thought of at 1am last night, because i am a firm believer of the "amnesia doesnt erase your trauma it just erases the context of it" agenda.

(although in SY's case he DID kinda forget that trauma.. at first. it's coming back to him. the system gave him a grace period. there that's my excuse)

crossposted on ao3 too in case anyone wants to read it there instead

--------

Shen Qingqiu is painting again.

He's found himself doing that a lot lately, now that he's out of seclusion and Binghe is in the bamboo house, squirreled away into the side room where the Head Disciple should be. Painting is, of course, a logical course of action for a peak lord to do! Especially one such as himself, the Peak Lord of Qing Jing, which was basically the peak of the creative arts.

But— well, he wasn't expecting to find himself liking it so much. Or doing it so often. Painting in the style of the time period is a lot easier to learn than he expected, and it gets him B-points for in-character actions! Who knew the Original Goods was such an artist of the time? He had such an evocative way with his brush, he should know — he's found some of his works!

(They were tucked away like a dirty secret in the back of his closet, locked away in a qiankun chest that Shen Qingqiu found the key to far too easily. He’ll admit to being a little disappointed in the Original Goods’ predictability — a false bottom in the vanity, really? Anyone could find that!) 

This brought him to his next issue; he was getting headaches, and he thinks, perhaps, just a little, that the Original Goods' thoughts and feelings were bleeding into him. Just a tad! And he was certain it was the Original Goods too, because— because, well…

He keeps flinching. You know how you’re walking down a public but otherwise empty hallway, and turn the corner and nearly run right into someone, and your heart jumps three spaces to the left and back? Subconsciously you knew there was a chance you were going to see someone, but their sudden appearance still startles you? 

Yeah, that. He keeps experiencing it with Binghe. He about jumps right out of his skin whenever Binghe emerges from the side room or the kitchen, even though he knows his disciple is there! And he knows it’s not a habit from his old world, because Shen Qingqiu lived with three other siblings in the house, and always knew to expect someone to be right around the corner. 

And he knows, especially so, that it’s not a habit from his old world, because along with the mini heart attacks that come with Binghe’s presence in the bamboo house, is the discomfort. A distinct yet indistinguishably vague feeling of unease that comes with sharing a living space with someone. The kind that makes his hackles rise like a particularly disgruntled and cornered street cat. 

Again, he grew up with three siblings! That could not be coming from him. It has to be an Original Goods feeling slipping in, and it was really getting in the way of things! How was he supposed to give Binghe a sense of belonging and a better upbringing if his presence in the bamboo house made him feel horribly exposed?

Some days, he just can't escape the gnawing feeling of dread in his chest when he returns to the bamboo house at the end of the day, knowing full well that it will soon be accompanied by someone else. Even if that someone was Binghe. 

That feeling of a lack of privacy makes his skin crawl and his shoulders lock up to his ears with every step. It was inconvenient; annoying. 

It was utterly unscientific, it was his house! And it was only Binghe, who, currently, is a harmless little white sheep! There was no darkened protagonist here, come to tear his limbs off. There was nothing to be so… tense about. 

It does nothing to stop the little swooping his heart does when he opens the door to, sometimes, Binghe already there, kneeling at the table like a dutiful disciple as always.

Oh, and that's not starting on his steadily increasing dislike of physical touch. It had to be something to do with the ludicrous amount of layers he wears and the modesty standards of the time period — and, also, of course, the Original Goods' own aversion to it.

He knows he's never felt so uncomfortable in another human being's presence before! Sure, he wasn’t the most social of people in his old world, but he still remembers being able to leave the house and be among the masses with relative ease. Here, though, was an entirely different story. His personal space bubble seemingly doubled, no, tripled in size, and it was irking him quite unhandily. 

The worst offenders were the Peak Lord meetings, it had to be. Navigating through the sea of disciples, cultivators, and visitors on Qiong Ding was a nightmare enough on its own — lessened only by the fact that said mountain occupants parted like the red sea when they saw him coming — but sitting in a secluded room with eleven other people, majority of whom still disliked him despite his turnaround? Awful.  

The proximity between him and his martial siblings isn’t even that bad, either. He has plenty of elbow room and in fact, would need to make an effort to reach out and physically touch anyone on either side of him. But, still!! Too close!! 

Shen Qingqiu made the conscious decision to sit as close to the door as his own comfort would allow, but not so close that he couldn’t see it — he tried that once. He doesn’t want to speak of the incident. The stress alone will give him heart palpitations. 

(He, pointedly, doesn’t want to think about the time he arrived at a Peak Lord meeting and found the Long Ning Shou Peak Lord sitting in His Chair either. Shen Qingqiu has never been particularly territorial about ‘assigned seating’ before, up until that moment. While he’s proud to say that he didn’t do anything to Chen Qingxuan for sitting in his spot, he’s mortified by how childishly petulant he felt about it for the rest of the meeting. He’s pretty sure everyone could sense his sour mood.)  

Why, just a few days ago he nearly bit a poor disciple's head off during martial lessons when they accidentally tumbled into him after a series of spectacularly fumbling footing. The child had been so horrified and apologetic that Shen Qingqiu remembered to reel himself back in time and merely scold them, rather than tear their skin right off with a tongue lashing.

But— enough about such stressful things! Shen Qingqiu was painting, and when he was painting, Binghe knew not to bother him, and to not let anyone do so either. Lest they all be dealt with a moderately grumpy Shizun. 

(His emotions may be as volatile as a hormonal boy lately, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t know how to keep them in check!! He still had a reputation to keep.)

His studio offered him a sense of privacy and solitary that not even his bedroom allowed him — for Binghe could knock on his bedroom door to alert him for whatever needed his attention, and while he could do the same to the studio, the fact remained; a Shizun interrupted during his precious studio time, did not, a happy Shizun make. 

There were silencing talismans painted into the walls — courtesy of the Original Goods — that Shen Qingqiu really quite appreciated. It allowed him the peace of mind to do things his face could not allow him outside of it— and that is, he got to muse aloud to himself, and hum songs from his old world that he couldn't anywhere else. Some songs that he still knew the lyrics to, he was happy to half-sing under his breath.

It had to be a form of meditation, it had to be! With how much peace and grounding it brought him, it couldn't be anything but a form of meditation.

Currently, he was just letting instincts lead his brush strokes while he hummed a melody from some myth musical he stumbled across a few weeks before he died. The songs had been so catchy that he had most of them all but memorized! He's tried repeating the instrumentals on his guqin and ruan with varying degrees of success.

Painting helped kill his migraines the most. As it stands, he’s had a killer one hammering at his skull since this morning. Bad enough to the point that he nearly snapped at poor Binghe during breakfast, and the child could all but sense the sour mood radiating off his master, and in turn had been silent and subdued until he left. 

Aish, that child… Shen Qingqiu hasn't quite quelled the guilt in him. Something about that awful subservience rankled him in a way he couldn’t explain, making him want to recoil and snap out at the same time. Something dark and deep in him had reared its head, wanting to reach over and shake Binghe for it. 

He'd been horrified by his own thoughts, and then locked himself in his studio for the rest of the day.

Even in death — or wherever the Original Goods was — he was still making things difficult! It was only natural that Binghe would go quiet and careful at the sight of Shen Qingqiu’s bad mood, he used to beat the boy at whim for imagined slights! He’ll have to reassure Binghe better that he wasn’t going to hurt him. 

Bah. He was supposed to be painting, not thinking about things that made his head pound worse or his mood dampen more! He didn't want to think about Luo Binghe right now — a surprise, even for him! — he wants to focus on the scent of ground ink and paints, and his own soft humming.

He blinks, once, twice, and focuses on the painting. It happens, like now, that he would zone out and paint entire landscapes, people, whatever, without realizing. It was always a guessing game of what he's made when he lets his mind wander. Some of things he painted were merely of Qing Jing, other times— 

— a burning red fire, encased on canvas, hangs off his eyelashes. And following it, the ensuing qi deviation he'd shoved off. —

Other times aren't worth mentioning.

He's painted a boy this time, a young one, with dark skin and even darker hair, and a smile that isn't quite right. There's a beauty mark right above the corner of his lip, artfully placed, as if it had been hand-placed by an expert craftsman. The boy's upper face remains unpainted, as if he’d been born without eyes. Yet, even without them, the boy looks completely serene and non-judgemental. Mn, no, perhaps more accurately he looks passive? Peaceful? 

Shen Qingqiu can feel his gaze, missing as it is, burning into him. He frowns immediately. His headache no less lessened, in fact— he thinks it's gotten worse. There’s a horrid familiarity about the boy in the painting, like a word poised on the tip of his tongue that he can’t quite place. "Don't look at me like that." He says aloud, bah, he hadn't meant to! But it’s not like there’s anyone to hear him. "Don't you know who I am?" 

En, no, it’s placating. That’s what it is. The boy is placating him. How unscientific! Unneeded; ridiculous. Why would he paint a boy trying to placate him? He was a scum villain, and a grown man!

The painting says nothing, as it ought to, it was only wet ink and dry parchment. Shen Qingqiu's ears burn anyways, and his eyes drop down to the smile on the boy's face. 

He finds that he deeply detests that smile on his face, it disgusts him. 

It disgusts him in the way only sheer incompetence can, a burn of irritation that bubbles up every time he saw an objectively wrong take in the PIDW comment section. As if he can't believe someone would look at him, a scum villain such as himself, and still be able to smile like that.

More than that, it's not right. That smile. It's— there's something wrong with it. Which can't be right, Shen Qingqiu hardly makes a mistake when he makes these trance-made paintings. But there is, he’s looking at it right here. He hates it. That awful smile. It's so— so… insincere. If you're going to smile at him, at least mean it, eh? Doesn't he deserve that much?

Long, slender fingers dip into the small wooden paint bowl beside him and lift back up, dripping wet ink onto the side table, and then onto the floor, across the last two layers of his robes that he always strips down to in here.

He reaches for the canvas to— to what? Smear that stupid smile off that boy's face? Mould it into his own image, back into place like the way it should be, paintbrush be damned? That wretched child, smiling at him like that. That smile is too straight, too perfect. It's mocking him.

Where is the tilt? The slant in it? That boy always smiled with an off-kilter turn of his lips, crooked, that made him real the same way blood in the mouth did, and now he's not, and it's wrong. He will wipe that smile off the boy's face himself if he must, if only to get him to wear anything else—

There is a knock on the door, gentle, hesitant. Only his cultivator hearing is what allows him to pick up on it. Shen Qingqiu's head pounds terribly at the sound. It makes a screeching sound go off in the back of his skull, like an abrupt kick to the teeth. His jaw clacks together on pure adrenaline as he regains the sense to not snarl wordlessly.

Didn't he say not to interrupt—?

His ink-stained fingers snap back, a gunshot recoil that sends splatters of ink flying and splatting coldly against his face. His nails dig painfully into the soft flesh of his palm, and Shen Qingqiu gathers himself back into his lofty cultivator persona with a single breath and a ramrod straightening of his spine. His ears ring horribly. "What." He calls, perhaps a little too coldly.

"Shizun?" Binghe says softly, and the sound of that child's voice is like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. Recognition hits him, and the guilt crawls back in at his earlier irritation. "Forgive this one for interrupting, but Yue-shibo is here."

Shen Qingqiu is still staring at his painting, but the boy’s smile burns behind his eyelids like a fire. It takes half a beat for him to respond; "…Alright," he says, and stands up, "prepare some tea, Binghe. And use the ginger root this master owns, he has a terrible headache."

He walks around the stool, fingers still dripping black, and plucks his robes up from the chair he draped them over. His head still hurts, and there’s a peculiar ache in his heart. He takes his time putting his layers back on, vindictively tying each button and knot leisurely. 

Surely Yue Qingyuan has the patience to wait for this one after he so rudely arrived unannounced, hm?

[geodesick]

[ID: a drawing of pye from outer wilds, standing with her writing staff. she's wearing an orange nomai space suit without the helmet, and she has a light brown face with curly darker brown fur. end ID]

figuring out how i want to draw the nomai, so here's a pye since i am obsessed with her !!!

[moodlesmain]

Hi. Look at this.

I just spent two days straight making a digital conspiracy board trying to piece together my favourite genre that isn't really a genre and more just a very particular niche which doesn't really have a name.

If you want to look I reccomend downloading and zooming in on the image to read everything LMAO, I want to try and convert it to a page on my neocities at some point so its easier to view but for now you guys just get a big ol' jpeg. You're welcome :)

[cornertheculprit]

Athena: Hee hee hee. You were so cute! ...And who's THAT fine-looking young man?

Apollo: That's Nahyuta, back when he used to smile.

[...]

Apollo: These pictures sure bring back memories. Nahyuta is cheerfully smiling in this one. That quiet smile he gives in court now seems almost fake by comparison.

[...]

Apollo: [...] (Before he goes, I'm going to turn back time by righting the wrongs that have been done. I'm going to restore Dhurke's freedom... ...and return a real smile to Nahyuta's face! I'm going to win this case. I just have to!)

[...]

Apollo: ......... (Dhurke, I hope you're watching. I proved your innocence... ...Nahyuta's smiling again... ...and that revolution you've always dreamed of... is finally happening.)

apollo's repeated reflections on nahyuta's smile throughout turnabout revolution and his desire to bring a real one back to his face instead of the fake one he's used up until then......augh. it's so fun to me

[kijeu]

favourite bang chan fancams 2 / ∞ [ 210828 music core - thunderous ⋆ ]

[scatterpatter]

one of the best things about embracing plurality and starting to actually admit I'm part of a system online is realizing just how many people in my spaces are also plural and its just

[hellspawnmotel]

terranigma, a cool game

[anannoyanceofjackofsmiles]

"Historically, the [bloody mary] divination ritual would encouraged young women holding a candle and a hand mirror in a dark room. As they gazed into the mirror, they would supposedly catch a glimpse of their future husband. But, there was a chance instead they'd see a skull or ghastly visage, signifying they were going to die before marrying." -Bloody Mary Folklore

So, during a VC one day me and @thevioletscout were talking and joked that Poor Edward would function Very nicely as a type of Urban Legend, Bloody Mary-esque character. I mean look at his name.

And during that same call (or around that time frame), roughly at the same time we had the idea of what fankids of Poor Edward would look like from our respective PCs. So. Here's Helen Wolff! And why, you may ask, is she doing a divination ritual...?

Well.

Girl is getting hassled by suitors at 15-16 and is probably the Most aro-ace person in the entire Neath. So I joked for a long time she'd overheard rumors of a divination ritual to see her fate in marriage, and Celebrates when she thinks she sees a representation of death. Truly, the only time someone would actually be Happy seeing Poor Edward.

And no, she never learned about her mirror dad. Sawyer Wolff kind of ensured she'd never learn about him. But you can't avoid every mirror in London, now can you?