#which is a valid thing to do but consider: adding a murderer AND exploding your dragons houses

[creatuesfromthedeep]

Tips for introducing more conflict into your Flight Rising lore (that aren't just "get a generic villain character")

Your dragons should be wrong sometimes. It doesn't have to be all the time, but they should misunderstand things, lie (intentionally or unintentionally), lash out when they're stressed, or just flatout dislike someone for no reason. Everybody will make bad decisions, and it's an easy way to introduce conflict without needing a specific antagonist character.

The world should be dangerous in some way. Think about your clan, and think about where your dragons would reasonably encounter some kind of danger. Is there a lot of crime in your clan? Is there a portion of your clan's territory that has a lot of hostile fauna? Is your clan currently clashing with another clan? Who knows, maybe the biggest danger is getting humiliated at the PTA bake sale, but try to think deeply on this. Once you know what places are dangerous, you can start thinking of how your clan deals with that danger.

A 100% approval rating government doesn't exist. The larger your clan, the more likely that there's dragons who disagree in some way, shape, or form with how the clan's being run. Maybe you've got an Anarcho-Capitalist Lightning clan with a small sect of Eco-Socialists that dislike the current rulers. Maybe you've got a tight-knit family unit but there's a dragon who doesn't agree with how chores are being divvied up. Maybe you've got a monarchy but, oops, you've got one dragon who REALLY disagrees with the concept of a monarchy!

Quick conflict is easy, prolonged plot is interesting. A conflict that can be resolved in 2 hours has a lot less narrative weight (typically) compared to a plot that takes 2 weeks to resolve. Err on the side of letting things fester and intensify if you want the juiciest conflict.

Your dragons should have wants just like anyone else, and those wants should conflict. A highly ambitious dragon joining a clan with well-established authorities is going to feel stifled by their inability to rise through the ranks. What happens when multiple dragons are courting the same dragon? What happens when multiple dragons want the same den location? Two dragons with deeply opposed desires can be the cornerstone of a lot of great lore.

Sometimes bad things happen for no reason. Natural disasters, plagues, sudden global conflicts (ex: Luminax), all of these things can be introduced quickly to churn up some conflict. Be careful to rely too heavily on this though, as it can erode away at your dragons narrative agency and make things feel grimdark (unless that's what you're going for)

Sometimes dragons are just jerks. People in real life are occasionally just mean, and there's no reason to say that your dragons can't just be a bit mean too. Schoolyard bullies, prissy Karens, workplace lunch-thieves, people who cut in line, etc. Don't be afraid to make some of your dragons just a bit mean, or annoying, or frustrating! In fact, I'd argue most dragons should have at least one trait that could potentially drive another dragon up the wall.

[bloodandpaintchips]

Bar & Murder Tips

Tagging→ Andrea Sheldon, Johnny Arcos Time Frame→ 11/29/2020 around midnight. Location→ Sangren, Colorado General Notes→ They’ll continue these conversation topics after the hangover.  

For a moment, Andrea was distracted with all the bottles lining Johnny’s counter, and their colors. He’d told her things here and there, tips on working behind the bar at TARTARUS but this was the first time he was showing her anything. She’d mentioned the need for a small purpose again, needing somewhere to be and a schedule before she lost her mind or herself again. She didn’t know what to expect, her palette for alcohol being very limited considering she didn’t start drinking beer until her mid-twenties and liquor, until after she “died.” She could be terrible at this, or she could be mildly competent; she had no way of knowing. “So...the sheer possibility of combinations here is kind of intimidating.”

"I find it odd that you still get intimidated," purred the witch as he set yet another bottle on the counter. Nothing too expensive, but definitely nothing he served the more... economical customers. The drinks he intended to make with Andy, no matter how terrible, would not be wasted. "Someone tells you what they have a taste for and you follow the notes of that taste to produce something they would like." With a wave of his hand, he willed the lights in the kitchen to dim and music to waft into the room like a breeze. "It does help, however, to know what the alcohol tastes like. Do you know what vermouth is, my Andy?"

Andrea snorted, turning her gaze away from the bottles to look at him. “You’d be surprised what things change and what things don’t.” She left it at that, drumming her fingers on the countertop and listened to his explanation. “Seems simple enough, except I don’t know what most of this tastes like. And no, I have no idea what vermouth is. Except I’ve heard the word. I know shots of whiskey and various beers. Please don’t be as judgemental during this as you are about my clothes,” she joked. There wasn’t much to make fun of at this moment; the great thing about training at home was the fact that she could learn this in the oversized tee she slept in, bare feet on the floor, barely feeling the cold.

"I will absolutely be as judgmental about this as I am about everything else. Your clothing is awful," he tacked on. He pulled a glass from the counter behind them, then reached for the bottle of Cocchi Vermouth di Torino. "We will drink." He poured her a glass and then himself. "Hold this. Smell it."

The only comeback she gave him was an eye roll before he moved on to grab a fancy bottle (they were honestly all fancy, nothing you’d find in the liquor store with the flickering OPEN light downtown). She could already smell it as he was pouring it, and she was intrigued, taking the glass from him and inhaling like he asked. “Wow. It’s like sweet and spicy. Really…” she raised her eyebrows a bit, holding the glass away a little. “Strong. I like it though. Makes me think of autumn.”

He sipped a bit at his glass, rolling the amber liquid along his tongue. "Vermouth comes in this sweet, red form, but also in a dry, white form - which is used for martinis. I prefer the sweet, but with the dry, I like to pair it with lemons. What do we think pairs well with our autumn taste?"

She listened, making a mental note. “In the past I may have hated the dry version, but lately I’ve been trying a lot of things I may have hated and liking them, so who knows. I like the sweet though. And I don’t know, maybe something like orange? Citrus seems like the way to go still. Do people ever pair things with juice?” She took a sip, surprised to find she really enjoyed it alone. She liked the spices and the warmth in her mouth. It made her throat prickle in a way she liked.

Nodding approvingly, he downed the rest of his drink, then poured another glass. "Everything can be paired with juice, but one must be aware of the full flavor of things. Red vermouth is sweet already, spicy... woodsy and herbal - orange is an excellent choice. Add gin and you have a cocktail." His freshly poured drink went back just as fast and he set his glass in the sink. "What is a taste that you like that isn't citrus?"

Andrea smirked, a little proud of herself like a good student when he said the word “excellent.” She watched him knock back the drinks, an eyebrow raising in curiosity. “I like cranberry. I like most berries actually. Chocolate...I’m not sure what the right answer is really.” She ran her fingers along her glass before pushing it towards him. “Do you get drunk easily? Like in terms of being human?”

"Oh, I get drunk very easily," he told her, even as he took her glass and pulled the bottle of cognac forward. Her used glass went into the sink and was replaced with a clean one, which he poured a taste into before giving it back. "Cognac can be spicy as well and has hints of fruit and chocolate. Hold it on your tongue a bit."

She took the new drink from him, taking a sip and holding it in her mouth like he asked. “I can taste that...but the thing I think I taste the most is nuts. Maybe walnut? Kinda think this would taste good with blood.” She said the last part quietly, briefly thinking about how she had to take care of that soon. She’d succeeded in making it feel like a job. For a few seconds she felt like the lamest creature ever, but she pulled herself out of the distraction by downing some more of it. “What goes with this?”

"That is not the first time I have heard that; many of our... guests at the bar have asked for a bit of this with a few fingers of O-positive." Johnny watched her drink the mouthful with curious eyes, lingering over her expression to gauge a reaction. "Overall," he continued, "Cognac is very good - alone, mixed with ginger ale or lemonade, all kinds of ways really." He poured himself a taste and knocked it back, shaking his head as he began to feel the drink. "Tequila next, I think."

She raised an eyebrow at that, feeling strangely validated she wasn’t the only one who thought that about the flavor profile. “I need to get more comfortable saying things like that. I still talk about blood like it’s my dirty secret,” she said, laughing a little. “But lemonade seems like it’d be really good with this too, so I’ll also keep that in mind. “Tequila. Don’t people usually just take that in shots?”

"Tequila is really quite versatile - shots, sours, cocktails... margaritas!" He turned and reached for the blender beside the sink then, with a blink of empty, black eyes, the blender was filled with a light green mix of alcohol and ice, buzzing away until he stopped it.

Squinting her eyes at the witch, Andrea couldn’t help but smile as she noticed he was getting a little looser with every swallow. “You get a little swishy when you’ve had a couple drinks, Johnny,” she told him, smile getting wider as she admired him. An eyebrow raised when he materialized margarita mix and she simply helped herself. “I think you should know that I’m beginning to feel these and will probably pay less attention to how the drinks are made, so for now let’s just focus on how they taste,” she said, sipping. 

"You have to know how to taste... how the drinks taste when you are serving them," he agreed with a lofty nod, holding out a glass for her to pour his margarita into. He gulped a mouthful, scowling at the brain freeze, but soon he was moving his hips to the music playing and chuckling. "'Swishy' is a good word, my Andy. More tequila - a sunrise! Ironic."

Andrea laughed, rolling her eyes and taking another sip of her drink. “Ah yes, sunrises. Loved those.” She tried to make it sound like she said it in jest, but it likely just came out as bitter. “Hopefully the drink is pretty,” she added, smirking whenever she noticed him get a brain freeze. It made her very aware of her lack of one. The more she had to drink, the more she found herself getting lost in thought about those changes.

"Yes, a sunrise!" He reached for her hand then and rolled her cool fingers between his own. "I will give you sunrise," he said, then sealed the promise by lifting her fingers to his mouth for a kiss. He then reached for a new bottle of 1942 and the grenadine. "You will find, my Andy, that adding grenadine to just about any drink will please any sorority girls that wander into the bar." Once he was finished with the drink, he swiftly exchanged her margarita for it.

She let herself be distracted by his promising kiss to her knuckles, smiling and letting him take her glass. “For a moment I was worried you were going to give me a literal ball of fire, but this will do fine.” She chuckled at his advice, tucking it away for future reference, because if she remembered anything, she remembered the greek crowd. Sipping the new drink, her eyebrows went up and she downed it before setting the glass down. “I like that one.” She slid the empty vessel toward him so he could refill it. “Can I tell you something that I have to say out loud before I explode?”

He hummed inquisitively as he swallowed the last of his sunrise and waved his fingers so that the music changed to 'More Than A Woman' by Aaliyah.

She turned around and jumped up to sit on the counter as she waited for him to make their drinks again. Swinging her legs for a moment and listening to the song, she finally went on. “I think I burned the bridge with my dad. Like burned it, totally,” she said, holding out her palm in a leveling motion. “I went back there to fix things and made them worse. I should stop trying to fix things. Drink more tequila sunrises.”

This stalled his hand as it reached for the next bottle and he turned to look at her quizzically. "Fix things? ...Is he dead now?" Quick as he could, he tried to pull what he knew about necromancy into the forefront of his fuzzy mind, but even as his fingers wrote runes into the air between him, he just as quickly forgot what he had intended to do. "Is he dead?"

Andrea laughed dryly, watching him attempt something and quickly forget with a smile on her face. “No, he’s not dead. That probably would have been easier. I didn’t make it worse like that, I just got angry at him. More angry than I’ve ever gotten at someone in like, person. I wanted to talk, but he still thinks I’m a demon. And then I kind of acted like one.” She shook her head and downed another drink. “But fuck it.”

"Well... you are a demon, I think, so the behavior is expected." He frowned down at an empty glass on the counter, then licked a finger, rimmed the lip of the glass with it and willed another drink into it. After taking a sip, he lifted his gaze back to Andy and said, solemnly, "So what shall we do about this, my Raggedy One? It sounds as if your father doesn't understand what kind of town Sangren really is."

She set her glass down and folded her arms, scoffing a bit until it turned into a full blown laugh. “You know, I guess I am a demon. I wish that felt cool instead of just me feeling like my lame self, but meaner and more okay with murder,” she replied, shaking her head. Meeting his gaze, she shrugged. “I guess there’s nothing to do about it. I don’t wanna see him again. You know, he actually mentioned he had an idea of this town and just hoped we dodged it or something. Like he couldn’t save me from the town in the end.” She growled a little, rolling her eyes and sliding her glass toward him to ask for another. “Like he’s fuckin Super Frank and movie nights and Hungry Man dinners would shield his poor daughter from the hellmouth. Incredible.”

Johnny took the time to contemplate what a hungry-person meal could possibly entail by taking another long sip. By now, the fuzz was starting to warm him from the inside out and the need to reach out with his powers to support Andy's growing agitation was growing ever more tempting. "These are survival instincts - the need to shield a child from exposure to evils for your father and that feeling 'okay' with murder for you... all survival."

Andrea was quiet for a moment, sipping her newly filled glass. “Survival. Maybe that explains the why of it, but that didn’t really work out for him did it? The pretending. His wife walked right into it all and it claimed his daughter. His daughter, who is now a demon,” she said gesturing towards herself. “I guess it’s a form of survival but it didn’t do a lot of good for him did it? He still lost everything. Staying blind on purpose and turning me away....I guess I see how it’s a survival tactic but it also feels like it was easy for him to love me and that changed in an instant. He just seems like a coward to me.” She set her glass down after downing it and slid down against the cabinets to the floor. “I...also think it’s more than being okay with murder. Saying it like that just feels better.”

He waved his hand dismissively. "'Murder' is such an inconsequential term to creatures who are no longer mortal, my Raggedy One. It's a wonder you have any appetite at all - Magic requires sacrifice, no matter what form it comes in. You see it when I bleed myself. You see how strangely it burns through Gunnar. You see it in death here, especially. It calls for this death, these sacrifices - what are people placed in your path for if not to be sacrifices?" He finished his drink, then suddenly slouched against the counter. "I'm drunk."

She let his words sink in, staring down at the ground for a moment with her eyebrows furrowed. “Sacrifices,” she repeated. Something did burn through her, and surprisingly his drunken advice had given her a bit of clarity. Just a bit. When she thought about death and sacrifice and magic in the way he described it, it made a little more sense. “Guess I’m just getting used to the order of such things,” she said, reaching up to grip the side of the counter and stand. “You are. I am a little too. How about I walk you to your room? That seems like the best course of action now.” She laughed a little and moved towards him, gently slapping a hand on his back.

He had straightened, but found himself buckling a bit at her slap. "You forget yourself," he chided lightly, even as he recovered and stood ramrod straight to allow her to lead him to the staircase that led to his bedroom. "I wonder, how long it will take for you to realize that you are now an apex predator, my Andy?"

She ran a hand through her hair and winced. “Sorry, I actually swore I was being gentle,” she replied, rubbing the spot and taking him up to his room. Being ahead of him, she walked in and pulled his sheets and comforter back so he could just fall in. She hadn’t responded right away to what he said but once they were inside his bedroom, she responded. “Yeah. Me too.”

"Come sleep," he sighed, already burying his face into his pillow. "I could have sworn I was better at drinking. I haven't done it in so long."

Laughing a little, she nodded and kicked off her jeans before jumping into the soft bed opposite of where he laid. Andrea relaxed against the pillow, smiling and turning her head to face him. “Personally I thought you were great at it.” She snuggled in, sighing and continuing to think about their earlier conversation until his words “sleep,” echoed in her head and she closed her eyes to let herself.