#wip: roleplay

[tj-dragonblade]

for the make me write! see, it would be dreadfully predictable of me to submit the 🎓

so I'll offer you a choice, depending on which you deem needs your attention more: 🍪 or 🎓

Oh you know me, if you send me two I'm going to do both. 💖 These follow on directly from the last snippet in their wip tags.

For 🍪:

= "Is this a recipe of your own devising?" Dream is eager, he finds, to hear more of this story of Hob's traditions.

"Oh no, no, this is Oma Franziska's gingerbread recipe." Hob has that fondly-nostalgic look again. "She insisted we call her that, me and Jim. She'd lost contact with her own grandkids when she left Germany, you see, and she sort of adopted us when we moved in next to her. She knew Jim's truth, too, and it was nice to have a neighbor who he could be himself with."

Hob has told Dream of Jim previously. Jim, who had been Hob's wife Peg to the rest of the world but Hob's husband in safe company; Jim, who had loved the sea, who sang bawdy pub songs with the loveliest voice, who left Hob with many fond memories and stories to carry with him as he continued living.

"She looked after us both, in a fashion. Knew her way around the kitchen blindfolded and backwards—I'm very sure food was her love language. Always made sure the neighbors were fed if they needed and was just—she was really something, y'know? I'm glad I got to know her." Hob gives the dough a final roll with a flourish. "Stayed put until she passed, even though I was kind of pushing it for that lifetime. I didn't want to leave her behind when she had so little time left, especially when she'd been there for me after Jim died."

"Your kindness does you credit." Dream is warmed by the tale, by yet another glimpse of the man Hob had worked to become in the past century.

"Heh." Hob beams at him, and something low in Dream's stomach tightens marginally. "Anyway, Oma Franziska was always sharing recipes with us—sending her traditions forward, she called it—and I've kept 'em alive for her. This gingerbread is based on an older recipe, but she tinkered with it quite a lot and clearly she knew what she was about; these biscuits always get rave reviews." He turns, plucks two of the biscuit cutters from the jumble on the counter and presents them to Dream. "Here you go."

And for 🎓:

Dream shivers, makes that sound again, and leans back further on Hob's desk. His feet move from Hob's knees up to his shoulders, the sharp edges of the chunky heels digging in just a bit despite the thick wool of Hob's waistcoat. His knees fall wide and he scoots his arse that much closer to the edge of the desk, angling his crotch up so Hob can get at it better.

And Hob is not about to waste the opportunity.

He buries his face in Dream's knickers, mouthing at Dream through the lace with a happy little groan, warm breath and warm lips gently teasing his 'student'. "Tell me what you'd like," he murmurs, after running the tip of his tongue along the length of Dream's cock, kissing the head. "Tell me what you want me to do for you?"

He glances up to see Dream biting his lip, eyes half closed as he leans back, immersing himself in the part. "I sometimes open myself up with my favorite toy," he says, hesitantly, "then sit on it and pretend that I am. Speared, in your lap, while I jerk myself off."

"Then let's start with that," Hob breathes, dick twitching in his slacks. "Nice and easy, get you open and relaxed before we do anything else." He kisses Dream's cock through the lace again, one last time, then guides Dream's feet down from his shoulders and takes his hand to pull him upright and back to standing. He slides both hands up under Dream's skirt, hooks them in the waistband of his knickers, meets his eyes as Dream braces himself on Hob's shoulders.

"These will have to come off," he says, half-apologetically; it's a sin to lose them so soon.

But Dream, bless him, bites his ruby-red bottom lip and squeezes Hob's shoulders. "Can I suck you first, Professor?"

Make me write!

[tharett]

Random old wips that I posted on Insta then immediately forgot about until recently 😼

I can't? Find the motivation to continue these (nuts) wips? But they are still pretty cute and wanted to share them here too 🫶🎀💕

(ALSO I GOT A JOB!!!!!🎉🎉

SO THAT MEANS MORE POSTPONED WORKS?? KINDA???? I'll try and get as many old drawings that I have so I can show you guys in the time being, until I get a solid, stable routine down jijijiji)

_

[Esp]

Unos bocetos random que subí en el Insta y completamente se borro de mi memoria hasta ahora 😼

La neta no puedo encontrar la motivación para completar estos bocetos?? Pero son buen adorables y los quise compartir aquí comoquiera 🫶🎀💕

(ES MÁS, TENGO EMPLEO!!!! 🎉🎉

ESO SIGNIFICA QUE ABRAN MAS TRABAJOS EN ESPERA?? MAS O MENOS??? Trataré de buscar los cuantos bocetos viejos que tenga por lo mientras yo me acostumbre a la nueva rutina de mi vida jijijiji)

[majorbuckyegan]

Woke up at 3:45am with a full on clegan fic idea in my head and just needed to get it out lmao

He looked up from his drink as the seat next to him was suddenly occupied, finding John sat on the barstool next to him, just like he knew he would, "Hi, there."

"Hi." John said, a teasing smile crossing his own face, "Now, what's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

He had to fight to keep the smile off his face at the ridiculous line, as well as the thick English accent that John had adopted for some reason, "Just having a drink, been a long day."

"Makes two of us, you mind a little company?" John asked, raising his glass in the bartender's direction before indicating to another round of drinks for them both.

He shook his head, "I could be convinced."

"Oh, I've gotta convince you, do I?" John asked with a grin, before holding a hand out to him, "Callum. And what do I call a pretty thing like you?"

He let his gaze slide from John to the map of Texas on the wall just behind him, quickly racking his brains for a name to give him, "Austin." He finally settled on as he looked at the map, shaking John's hand.

roleplaying fic anyone????

[aiyve-rose]

New Hyperfixation Unlocked: Whitepine

Experimenting with this brush by drawing Ivory skajdjs

[mr-laveau]

Now stick with me here, Love helping Des figure out how they like to be touched and kissed–not a big concept but one that actually gets my brain going

[silverlavenderskull5]

Here's a WIP. im actually pretty proud of this sketch so far! Literally obsessed with drawing Karmor angry 😍

[d0rianw1lde]

Jingle jingle…anyone looking for an rp partner? Stranger things? Steddie? Gladiator even??? JINGLE JINGLE LOOK AT THIS DOODLE OF EMPEROR CARACALLA!! LOOK AT WHAT I’M WORKING ON!! JINGLE JINGLE ANYONE?

[maenecoon]

monthly wip update to remind you that i'm alive and trying to work on some fics while bearing the crushing weight of college stress! have some corruption wikchay 💞

[tj-dragonblade]

🎓🎓🎓 you have no idea how excited i am for this one omg

Ahh, thank you! You have no idea how much I want this one finished and ready to share already, lol. Here is a longer-ish snippet for these three 🎓, picking up directly after the last bit in the wip tag:

"Oh, sweetheart—" His cock surges in his trousers. "I'm not going to last if you put that pretty mouth on me, and then I won't be able to fuck you, not with my dick."

Dream pouts, looks absolutely torn. "I do want that. But I also want to taste you."

"Tell you what," Hob says, arousal singing in his gut. "Go ahead and take it out. Taste it if you like, I'll be strong. And you can decide how you want it from there."

"Yes, Professor," Dream breathes, eyes glowing, and folds to his knees between Hob's spread thighs. His hands move eagerly to Hob's fly and Hob slouches so he can unbuckle and unbutton and unzip and then Dream is pulling his trousers open around his ready cock, is nuzzling at him through his white cotton pants.

"Oh fuck," Hob breathes, as Dream's slender black-nailed fingers work their way inside the underwear to pull him carefully free. Then Dream has an eager hand wrapped around him and that delicate pink tongue is licking up the underside of his head, hesitant but curious. Like this truly is Dream's first time tasting cock.

Which is insane, given how often Hob has lost his load to the talents of Dream's mouth on him, but Dream does go all-in on roleplay and he's incredibly good at playing his part, at bringing his stories to life.

Dream licks him again, exactly like he's eating ice cream, and makes a delighted little sound. His eyes lift to Hob's, questioning, seeking a response, and his tongue flickers softly against Hob again.

"Oh sweetheart," Hob manages, flexing his dick so it bumps Dream's lip. He knows he's repeating himself but he can't help it. He slides a hand into Dream's hair, curls his fingers around the back of Dream's head, the slightest pressure urging him forward.

Dream leans in, eyes still on Hob's, makes another of those little sounds and licks with relish, then again, and again. Hob groans, strokes his fingertips against Dream's scalp, drowns for half a second in the blue of those eyes.

"Professor," Dream breathes, between licks, voice tight with excitement. "I want—I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me, but—but—" He whimpers, lips trembling, and then he dives onto Hob's cock, mouth closing around him just past the head. He whines, a needy little noise like a man starving at a feast, and starts working Hob's cock with convincingly inexperienced enthusiasm.

Hob bites his lip, tips his head back, panting out short little moans that are entirely authentic. Dream is so so good with his mouth, and it would be so easy to let go his control and let Dream make him come just like this. This isn't the Dreaming where he can get it up again instantly, though; he's got to pace himself, control himself, so that he lasts as long as Dream needs him to.

But lord, it's hard when Dream's on his knees in that outfit suckling at the head of his cock like he's never done it before.

He strokes both hands through Dream's hair, focuses on finding the words to move the fantasy forward. "Christ, Dream, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth."

Dream glances up at him, blushing, for god's sake, lips stretched red and rounded on his shaft and Hob groans. "We'll do whatever you want, it's your choice. But if what you want is for me to fuck you proper, I need you to stop."

Dream makes a pleading little noise of disappointment but draws off, licking his lips as he goes.

[REFINE - CLUNKY "It's fine if you just want to suck me off after all," Hob continues, catching his breath. "There's always next time, we don't have to do it all today."]

Dream nods, teeth sunk in his lower lip. "I want to sit on your cock," he says, and the heat in Hob's stomach curls sharp and sweet. "I want you in my mouth as well, but. I will leave it for a time when I am not so desperate to know the feel of you inside me." He sits back, rises fluidly to his feet and grabs Hob's hands, directs them up beneath his skirt to the waistband of his lacy knickers. "Take them off, Professor, please," he murmurs, the demure shyness in his face somewhat undercut by the heated gleam in his eyes.

Make me write!

[azol-otl]

Okay, I gotta ask about the normalsonas lol

This is actually a wip I think will be a wip for a long while cause it's like. Too meaty for me at the moment but I'll get to the level needed eventually.

Okay so the context for this is that Jason and Tim (who are not in a relationship) are undercover as a young married couple Alvin Draper and Daniel "Danny" Cruz and get way too enveloped in their characters. Especially since unlike Tim and Jason, Alvin and Danny are allowed to be more vulnerable and open with their emotions.

The room is filled with breathy grunt and moans. The wet slap of skin a steady cadence as Danny thrusts into his husband. "Ah, ah— Da—Danny..." come the mouthwatering groans from under him. Danny loves it. Everything about this. He loves the weight in his heart and the desire that grows in him when Alvin lets go like this. It had scared him before, this monstrous need inside him. The hunger inside of him that wished to devour his husband. To lap at his sweat, to drink in the sounds coming from his mouth, to rip a hole into his husband so he can live inside him the way his husband has become the beating in Danny's chest. It always felt like too much. This craving. Just one more second. One more touch. Please, please he can quit when he wants but just give him more. Alvin's left hand sliders over Danny's and their fingers entwine, the metal of their rings, something both of them try their hardest to never take off, making a small clink. Alvin's stretches back, his head turning to see Danny's eyes and the thrumming of Danny's chest crescendos as his heart looks at him with a knowing smile. Alvin raises his right hand and wipes at Danny's face, brushing tears he hadn't felt fall. "My big crybaby," Alvin says, voice fond. "You know I can't help it," Danny defends weakly. He's always had emotions too big for his body.

[tharett]

LOOK AT THEEEMMMM AUUGHHARHFHADRD [foams at the mouth]

Chat are we

Heh

Are we cool and fuck heavy with the furries kissing in the corner?

Should they kithJAHAHAH

[ESP]

MIRALOOSSSSS QUE LINDOSSSSSJABSHWHRV [le espuma el hocico]

Chat nos gusta

Jeje

Nos gusta y apreciamos a los furros besuqueandose en el rincón?

Deberían de besarseJAJAJAJA

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Current lineart go brrrr

👀👀👀 imma try and get three pics done today.

EDIT: why y'all ain't tell me yall couldn't see the pic at first lolol

Smh.. the background ain't supposed to be dark but as long as y'all can see it 😩 Imma see how coloring it goes 👀

[welcometololaland]

thanks for the tags @strandnreyes @orchidscript @thesleepyskipper @carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom

@whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @ironheartwriter @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

i present some more roleplay content from the ring-in 2.0.

“Rude,” TK grumbles, before apparently switching tack. It’s abundantly clear that their snarky back and forth has not dissuaded him from the roleplay idea. “But not untrue. Anyway, you’re the criminal—” “That doesn’t make any sense,” Carlos interjects. “I’m the one who has the background knowledge of law enforcement.” “Okay, so,” TK says slowly, eyeing Carlos off as he picks up another fry and bites into it, “we’re not necessarily going for accuracy here.” Carlos ignores that statement. If they’re not going to be accurate, they can revert back to the gas station attendant and customer idea. Inaccuracies are just going to distract him. “I think we should also acknowledge that the non-law enforcement participant is only an alleged criminal.” “Fine, whatever,” TK says, frowning slightly. “You’re that guy.”

open tag and some tags below and ALSO if you haven't read the gas station/customer roleplay jen wrote, you SHOULD! it's hilarious.

@rmd-writes (perhaps some of your 1.4k of fire???) @reyesstrand (what is your current project i must know 👀) @liminalmemories21 (knave-verse for me??) @thisbuildinghasfeelings (do we have an update on the Carlos piece or the babe/baby?? @nancys-braids (i need to know if marjan is overcoming her fire trauma by kissing nancy.)

@bonheur-cafe (i think you left us last wednesday on kissing and running away and i must know more) @alrightbuckaroo (another something to give each other snippet? a tasty treat?) @chicgeekgirl89 per chance summer fic - are tarlos still babysitting?) @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad (is there a sassy sophie line from today?) @captain-gillian (i think last seven sentence sunday i saw was a nancy/marjan co-piloted by tarlos trying to be emotional support best friends?!)

@americansrequiems (for some reason tumblr didn't show me your seven sentence sunday but I LOVED the format!!! is there more?) @fitzherbertssmolder (any prompt fill wips?) @freneticfloetry (is it a tarlos week or a firstprince week i am excited to find out!)

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for yesdangerpls behind the cut; "mirror mirror". relevant tags: clonecest, gender play, roleplay, daddy kink (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Language,” he says, and gives the other’s ass a sharp swat–a sharp slap, more like, or maybe more like a sharp spank, hard enough half the fucking hall probably hears the impact, and hard enough to make Match jerk again–and then, soothing and reassuring, says, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know it's so hard to be good, but you don't need to act like a brat right now. Daddy’s here. You don't gotta worry about getting my attention when you've already got it. You can just be my sweet baby girl and let me spoil you.” 

Match trembles, just once, and his fingers pierce straight through the top of the dresser. Shitty behavior or not, the bastard still hasn't let a fucking drop of his come leak out of him. 

Kon is feeling really, really good about himself right now, yeah. 

“I know you wanna be good for me,” he breathes, and kneads Match’s ass tight right where he spanked him. Match trembles again. “I'm gonna take care of you so you can be. My special little princess. You like knowing you're special to me, don't you?” 

“I–I don’t–” Match tries, his voice all choked and hoarse, and Kon rubs his prostate in sweet, steady little circles and tightens his grip on his ass enough to tug the other up onto the balls of his feet. Match cuts himself off with a tight little whine and arches his back, and Kon slots his rock-hard cock in between his cheeks. “I–I–Daddy, please–” 

“There you go, baby girl,” Kon purrs, and grips Match’s hips to squeeze encouragingly. Match’s tone is still a little too rough for the game, a little too deep, but Kon, personally, believes in positive reinforcement. “You’re being so good. You can grind your pussy on Daddy’s dick all you want. Go on. You deserve it.” 

Match stutters out a cracked little moan, and it pitches up higher halfway through, so it almost sounds like a question. Kon doesn't grind into him himself; just keeps his hands on his hips, stable and strong and steadying. And Match–hesitates, just barely, and tenses up a little more again, and–

“Do it for me, princess,” Kon murmurs, and then leans down to press the softest, sweetest little kiss he's ever given anyone against the back of Match’s neck, and digs his fingers into his hips hard enough to bruise even a telekinetic half-Kryptonian body. 

And Match just fucking melts, and finally rolls his hips back again. 

“Daddy,” he moans, and it's all breathy sweetness, and it's also all Kon can do not to shove his dick in him to the root and fuck the bastard so full of his fucking jizz that the other fucking creams himself over it. Match rubs his ass back against his cock all stuttery-sweet and shy, and Kon barely keeps himself from blowing his load right across the small of his back. 

That's a way he'd rather see Match marked up, he thinks, and licks the back of his teeth again. The idea of his come all up the other’s back would be better than any fucking brand. 

. . . though he wouldn't complain about a pretty little tramp stamp either, now that he's thinking about it. 

An S-shield, maybe. 

Kon runs a hand up the small of Match’s back as the other keeps up that shy, stuttery grinding; rubs his fingertips into the dip of his spine and traces the sharp-edged diamond shape he’s picturing there. Match’s breath hitches, and hitches harder when Kon rubs his TTK in a little tighter against his prostate; traces the shape of an “S” into that. 

Match moans so cute for that “S” that Kon wants to fucking punch a fucking tank about it. And also and even more than that, wants to milk this fucking prick's balls ‘til he's coming fucking dry. 

“Bet you'd look so cute in a lacy little thong to match that cami,” he says musingly, tracing the imagined lines of one over Match’s hips and still doing his damnedest to hold himself back from losing control. He's gotta be patient here. It'll pay off better, if he does it right. Or he's pretty sure it will, at least. “Would you pierce your clit for me too, baby? You'd look so sweet all dressed up in lace with your tits and clit all pierced and pretty. Pretty as a princess.” 

“‘P-pretty’?” Match half-rasps, his hole trying to clench down on his TTK again, and Kon's gut burns and his dick throbs. 

If this isn’t Match encouraging him, then he cannot even fucking imagine what would be. 

“So pretty,” he swears roughly, gripping the other's hips bruise-tight again and stroking slow and steady back and forth across his prostate–like he's fucking him, but without his fingers or cock actually opening him up. Without him doing anything that’d make it any harder for Match to keep his come inside him, more like. “Prettiest girl, with the prettiest little pussy. Always so tight and greedy for me, and so sweet whenever you get my dick in you.” 

“Can I–have it, Daddy?” Match half-stutters, and rubs his ass back against said dick again as he half-drops his head. He doesn't drop it far enough to keep himself from being able to see them both in the dresser mirror, though, and Kon would already be pretty damn turned on by that fact alone if the bastard didn't decide to keep talking and say–“Can–can my pussy have it, Daddy? So–so I can be–pretty.” 

Kon nearly swallows his own tongue, and also nearly comes without his dick getting any more attention than that. 

“Fuck,” Kon says. 

“Please, Daddy,” Match says, and it comes out very, very soft and quiet. “Wanna be sweet for you.” 

“Fuck,” Kon says, and nearly falls off the fucking floor. 

“Make me pretty, Daddy,” Match says, his voice this close to fucking tremulous, of all the goddamn things. “Make me–I just–I–please–” Match's voice cracks, and Kon buries a groan against his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” he just barely manages, gripping the other's hips roughly. “Yeah, baby, I'll make you so pretty. Prettiest you've ever been.” 

“Please,” Match chokes, and Kon presses the head of his dick in against the other's hole, rubbing it across it. Match lets out a heated little gasp, Kon pushes in very literally just the tip, and Match immediately comes all over the front of the dresser with a shocked, strangled whimper.

[dorphizar]

Pressure oc I guess, I think I'll post more sketches a little later

She definitely didn't miss hand day lol

Axolotls are really cool, dudes. So I tried to do something different, and overall I like the idea, this humanoid thing came out in the end, love it. No name yet, but I've already thought out some points regarding her "lore", but not that I'm obsessing about it heh

[prokopetz]

I have a pinned post for my games in development, but it doesn't really describe what they're about, and apparently this is something we're doing today, so:

My games in development, in rough order of priority:

(Note: all of these have public playtest drafts behind the links.)

Eat God

A game about weird little anarchist muppets with reality-warping powers themed after classic Looney Tunes gags wandering around a classic sword-and-sorcery fantasy setting stirring up trouble. Roughly 50% character creation rules by volume, with provisions for randomising every part of it; the linked draft, above, includes an online character generator if you want to play with it. The mechanics are a sort of elaborated spiritual successor to Costume Fairy Adventures, a game whose development I headed up about a decade ago.

Current status: actively writing, hopefully zeroing in on a feature-complete playtest draft within the next month or two.

Tiny Frog Wizards

One of my customarily literal titles, this is a game where you play as wizards who are tiny frogs. Features elaborate semi-freeform rules for casting spells, lots of big stupid random tables for when spells go off the rails, and absolutely no mechanics for anything that isn't casting a spell; it's a very focused sort of game. Narratively, it's a game about being an overpowered little twerp sticking your nose into other people's problems and offering solutions no-one asked for. Portions of the rules crib shamelessly from @jennamoran's Nobilis 3rd Edition, for which I offer acknowledgement but no apologies.

Current status: development of the text has been set aside for the moment to work on visual identity, with an eye toward crowdfunding an expanded hardcover edition later in the year.

Space Gerbils

A tactical mecha combat game with a very silly twist: the entirety of the tactical positioning occurs inside the mecha, because the game's premise is basically "what if instead of the Big Reveal at the end of Metroid (1986) being that Samus Aran is secretly a girl, Samus Aran was secretly 3–5 small gerbil-like creatures operating a person-size mech suit?" Players engage in positional jockeying and resource management to determine which stations they're crewing within the suit, which is boiled down to a single roll of the dice to determine what happens outside the suit. Includes papercraft minifigs.

Current status: essentially feature-complete, apart from some character creation options and a planned random mission generator; this will likely be the next game I crowdfund after Tiny Frog Wizards.

Indie RPG Prompt Generator [working title]

Essentially a joke that got out of hand, this is a big set of random tables of common indie RPG tropes that you can roll on to generate a description of a hypothetical game, complete with specific rules toys and setting beats. I probably could have finished this up already, but I decided to include examples of each rolled element, which turned into this big hairy research project I'm not able to give adequate attention to right now. If you've got a game of your own that you think would be a good fit for a presently unfilled example slot, please, let me know!

Current status: plugging away at it in bits and pieces as I'm able.

Three Raccoons in a Trenchcoat

This is an anthology consisting of three minigames: the eponymous Three Raccoons in a Trenchcoat, which is self-explanatory; Unfamiliar, in which you play as uncooperative wizards' familiars; and System Crash, in which you play as malfunctioning robots. More a series of formal experiments in character creation and group composition than proper full-featured games, all share the same core mechanics, with milieu-specific addons of varying practicality; for example, System Crash has specific rules for which senses each player is allowed to use when asking the GM for information, because it's completely possible to have a group in which only one of the robots can see. Large portions of Unfamiliar were later re-used in Eat God, above.

Current status: I have a list of notes as long as your arm on planned changes to integrate into the text, and I'm confident I'll get around to doing so one of these years.

Gone to Hell

Literally a Doom (2016) pastiche as a Belonging Outside Belonging game, which is just as silly an idea as it sounds; grown out of an earlier 24-hour RPG called Doomguy. The central conceit is that there's only a single player character, with players taking turns assuming the role of the Slayer, while everyone else takes ownership of the various hostile factions comprising the game's conspiratorial twelve-car pileup of a plot. Lots of pontificating about the implicit power structures of tabletop RPG groups. This one probably needs a full rewrite in order to lend a bit more formal structure to the "one player character, many GMs" conceit than out-of-the-box BOB offers.

Current status: I have not looked at this game in three years, which is actually a really long time for me.

Rotate Bird

Another of my "is this a formal experiment or a real game" titles, this one revolves around constructing characters out of abstract symbols, which are interpreted during play to retroactively define what your character is actually capable of doing. Even the title seen above is an interpretive approximation; strictly speaking, the game is called 🔄🐦. Possibly the most shitposty game I've ever written, which is saying something, but based on playtest feedback it seems functional.

Current status: the only reason this is listed as lower in priority than Gone to Hell is because I genuinely don't know what to do with it. It's probably publishable, with some cleanup editing and graphic design, but it feels like there's something missing. I'm open to suggestions!

Get in the Fucking Robot

A pamphlet-size, competitive, GMless title that's at least as much a board game as it is a tabletop RPG, this one is about a bunch of dysfunctional candidate mecha pilots competing to be the first to pilot the titular giant robot. The game is played under misère conditions: while each character's IC goal is to pilot the robot, each player's OOC goal is to avoid that fate, with the player whose character actually Gets in the Fucking Robot being accounted the loser.

Current status: playtesting suggests the current framework of play doesn't actually work – like, at all – so this one needs to go all the way back to the drawing board; I don't feel like doing that any time soon, which puts it squarely at the bottom of the list.