I have a very good idea how Trish'll deal with it, but I wanted to give the other people a chance to post first. I don't want to skip over potential reactions by being too fast.
Ashgan
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Time to introduce this abomination to how we used to do things back in Silent Hill, eh... :P
Considering that Ludwig was a man, you really don't want to think about milking that, no.
Maybe he had good intentions, but I firmly believe you don't end up looking like that if you only ever made the right calls in life ;)
Ludwig is a horse though.
... Good thing I put 8 points into Willpower. What a monstrous creature.
@Bishop lol. Maybe you get lucky and somebody beats your initiative to hold you back from jumping. :D
@DJAtomika What timing. ^^
@DJAtomika What timing. ^^
Thatβs the last place I want to immerse myself in, McCoy. She watched the psychiatrist with great suspicion, seeing him become uncharacteristically hasty and nervous as he lit the candles and, seemingly distraught, realized he had run out of matches to light. It was Trishaβs job to see and identify people who were guilty of something; and the doctor looked very much like he was up to no good, and that he knew this. A man like him should have been able to hide his disposition better, but whatever urged him to do whatever it was he was doing, had him shaken up enough to make him lower his guard. Just when Trisha had just about enough of his act, he excused himself and hurried out of the room, no explanation given. For a while, all was quiet, save for the uneasy breathing of those gathered and the omnipresent sputtering of rain against the side of the building.
βYo, where the fuck is he going? This is weird, homes,β Joe muttered. The detective agreed; whether or not something concerning was going on or not, she just about had it of this session. Besides, it was late. If she went home right now, Abigail would already be asleep.
βFor damn sure, βhomeβ,β Trisha snarled back at Joe, getting up from her chair. As she did, she remembered to cast a glance towards the spot behind her that McCoy had been staring at earlier. Although the lighting was poor, she could see nothing extraordinary there, just a desk at the far end. She shrugged and turned back to face the circle.
βIβm sorry folks; this gig isnβt for me,β she dispassionately announced, making sure not to speak the whole truth. After all, she would not want to discourage people with bigger problems than her own by stating outright that McCoy seemed like an amateur and that his therapy was a waste of time. When she took her first steps towards the exit, she noticed that the floor was unusually dusty; but she did not have the awareness β or the interest β at the moment to discover the pattern within. She had barely taken four steps when the light went dark and plunged the room into uneasy twilight. She froze.
That just about sealed it. Trisha had no idea what McCoyβs game was, but his mannerism and the timing of the blackout β just after his disappearance β could hardly be called a coincidence. She could not discern his motive; too bizarre the circumstances. Hard to imagine what he was hoping to gain by this, but it was clear that he was doing something, and she would be damned if she were to just play along.
The blackout had caused multiple people to react. Some might have begun speaking up. Trisha, with the authority she had grown accustomed to having, spoke louder:
βOkay, everybody. Hereβs the deal: First, everybody stay calm.β Her voice was severe but well-meaning, like that of a stern teacher. βNobodyβs a fan of whatβs happening and neither am I.β
As she was close to the door, she tried flipping the light switch, just to make sure. Of course, nothing happened.
βMcCoy is being neither professional nor helpful, his behavior is suspect if nothing else, and I still donβt trust those candles not to have a hallucinogenic agent of some kind.β While she spoke, she pulled her smart phone out of her pocket and turned on its flashlight mode. Holding it on front of her, she used its halfway useful beam of light to illuminate the middle of the circle. βThose of you who want to leave can come with me. The rest of you can-β
A loud, dissonant noise from down the hallway cut her off. What now, she thought. Sounded like somebody rummaging through metallic drawers, and they were in a rush, frantic even. Could not have been anyone other than McCoy; what had him so upset? Was he on meds or drugs and forgot to take his dose? Wouldnβt be amiss on his profile, at least.
βRight, then. The rest of you can stay here if you really want. If we come across the doctor, I might ask him some uncomfortable questions, too.β
She eyed every one of those gathered with a steely mien. The events were unusual and suspect, but far from unsettling. She had stared into the dead, tortured eyes of children. A bit of darkness and rattling in the distance was nothing.
βYo, where the fuck is he going? This is weird, homes,β Joe muttered. The detective agreed; whether or not something concerning was going on or not, she just about had it of this session. Besides, it was late. If she went home right now, Abigail would already be asleep.
βFor damn sure, βhomeβ,β Trisha snarled back at Joe, getting up from her chair. As she did, she remembered to cast a glance towards the spot behind her that McCoy had been staring at earlier. Although the lighting was poor, she could see nothing extraordinary there, just a desk at the far end. She shrugged and turned back to face the circle.
βIβm sorry folks; this gig isnβt for me,β she dispassionately announced, making sure not to speak the whole truth. After all, she would not want to discourage people with bigger problems than her own by stating outright that McCoy seemed like an amateur and that his therapy was a waste of time. When she took her first steps towards the exit, she noticed that the floor was unusually dusty; but she did not have the awareness β or the interest β at the moment to discover the pattern within. She had barely taken four steps when the light went dark and plunged the room into uneasy twilight. She froze.
That just about sealed it. Trisha had no idea what McCoyβs game was, but his mannerism and the timing of the blackout β just after his disappearance β could hardly be called a coincidence. She could not discern his motive; too bizarre the circumstances. Hard to imagine what he was hoping to gain by this, but it was clear that he was doing something, and she would be damned if she were to just play along.
The blackout had caused multiple people to react. Some might have begun speaking up. Trisha, with the authority she had grown accustomed to having, spoke louder:
βOkay, everybody. Hereβs the deal: First, everybody stay calm.β Her voice was severe but well-meaning, like that of a stern teacher. βNobodyβs a fan of whatβs happening and neither am I.β
As she was close to the door, she tried flipping the light switch, just to make sure. Of course, nothing happened.
βMcCoy is being neither professional nor helpful, his behavior is suspect if nothing else, and I still donβt trust those candles not to have a hallucinogenic agent of some kind.β While she spoke, she pulled her smart phone out of her pocket and turned on its flashlight mode. Holding it on front of her, she used its halfway useful beam of light to illuminate the middle of the circle. βThose of you who want to leave can come with me. The rest of you can-β
A loud, dissonant noise from down the hallway cut her off. What now, she thought. Sounded like somebody rummaging through metallic drawers, and they were in a rush, frantic even. Could not have been anyone other than McCoy; what had him so upset? Was he on meds or drugs and forgot to take his dose? Wouldnβt be amiss on his profile, at least.
βRight, then. The rest of you can stay here if you really want. If we come across the doctor, I might ask him some uncomfortable questions, too.β
She eyed every one of those gathered with a steely mien. The events were unusual and suspect, but far from unsettling. She had stared into the dead, tortured eyes of children. A bit of darkness and rattling in the distance was nothing.
Not to be pedantic, but...
:'D?
Willpower is also for normal threats and conflicts that are not of occult nature, so there is another difference.
πππππππ ππ ππππππππ π πππππππππβπ ππππππ ππππππππππ πππ ππππππππππ ππ ππππππ ππ‘πππππππππ.
:'D?
All right, thanks. I think I understand better now. It's mostly the Spirit-related ones that gave me a bit of trouble, especially because there is some overlap with Willpower, I feel (even in your example, you say that the bonus of positively checking the Spirit indicator would be to be less startled or crippled with fear - exactly what Willpower wards against). That said, Spirit probably branches out into a region of its own when the occult dial gets turned up, and at that point I expect things will be clearer.
Thanks for indulging me ;)
Thanks for indulging me ;)
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