POOHEAD189

Thoughts on discord RP?

I never could get into discord RPing. I feel it's a bit too easy to lose focus.

Using AI For RP Visualization

<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>

>I'll admit that I have a laxer view when it comes to AI "art" than AI generated text. The art is whatever (genuinely shit in most cases if we're being completely honest and not buying into all the internet fearmongering or overhyping), and even if I were an artist or animator I don't think I'd care, since it could help streamline certain things as that one Corridor Digital video showed. Not to mention has a long way to go to match a human. When it comes to writing though, it's even lazier than copying and pasting in my opinion. Like you can't even be bothered to work your gray matter long enough to visualize a scene, let alone write it out in a post? Or for a more specific example, using something like ChatGPT to generate whole CYOA's or Jumpchain documents instead of designing either one personally, which results in the most generic and nonsensical content I've had the misfortune of reading.

>I get how an artist might call the art aspect of AI generation lazy, but hey so is doing shit on a tablet or in a program like Blender compared to what the greats of history did. They went out and painted or carved, meanwhile all we do is click. Same could apply to writing actually come to think of it.

@Zyx

No matter how you slice it, typing in a prompt so something else can make the art for you is just not doing art. You can make the argument that doing things on tablets makes it easier, but it's still doing art. Any prompt to content generation is just writing a prompt. You have made nothing. All it is, is flooding artist spaces with stuff you didn't make, made from other stolen art.

As for the copy/pasting writing, I agree with you there.

Using AI For RP Visualization

<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>

>This has more to do with using it to generate images in order to help set a scene, not using something like ChatGPT to write a post for you.

>Otherwise I agree. If you can't even be assed to write your own shit, fuck off.

@Zyx

Oh if it's AI art I'm against that on principal, but if people want to put in a prompt in a word generator to set up a scene, and as long as they don't copy/paste, then I don't see the major problem in that.

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Pile it on

Using AI For RP Visualization

If you're using an AI to write an RP scene, then you shouldn't be RPing. RPing is a hobby. If you're not enjoying it enough to do it yourself, then stop doing it.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Neil turned right, passing through a throng of listless citizens and making his way up a short, steep hill before making a right, deeper into the southern portion of the city. The two thieves marched through a street with a myriad of shops of pottery and various crafts for the well-to-do earners of the city state. One shop had been broken in, but the rest remained whole, a few hard looking men with grim looks leaned against the walls bestride the varying alleyways, just a few paces from a few of the shops doorways. Neil saw their manner and could tell right away they were 'scarecrows,' unofficial muscle for the shop owners, meant to dissuade any activity near the closed stores. The idea was they looked shady enough to keep other, less reputable men from approaching, unable to tell if the street toughs were merely loitering in a foul mood or if they were standing watch for their thieving friends, already looting inside. It was a somewhat cheap but effective way to keep rioters from entering their businesses without hiring true guards that required arms and training. Neil could play a lot of roles, but he didn't have the look for that kind of work.

"I know exactly where we must go, my dear." Neil said to Emmaline in his most aristocratic elocution, his arm around hers as they passed through another herd of the desperate or worried, nearly bumping into a garishly dressed courier evidentially carrying an urgent message. Emmaline was merely overcome by a sudden tide of the crowd but Neil managed to smuggle her out with a quick tug and they stepped into a connected, less crowded street.

"And that is?" She asked, rubbing her thick head of blonde hair. Neil raised an eyebrow at smirked at her.

"Come on, isn't not knowing a little bit sexier?" He asked her.

"Far be it from me to lecture the great Neil on what is sexy, but I think it would behoove you to let me in on it," she said, drawing very closer, adding a flair to her already admittedly upper-class altdorf accent. Neil sighed theatrically, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to act like she vexed him terribly, but he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

"Very well my darling. Never let the boys at the academy learn of my weakness to beautiful blondes." He said, and they shared grins and then a quick kiss. Neil glanced around, and thankfully the only people close were lone walkers that had their backs turned to them. The jettying buildings leaning over them cast a conspiratorial shadow over the two. He whispered to her, regardless of no one visible being in earshot. Neil wasn't about to let a score and a date get ruined by an eavesdropper. "There's a trading company called the Golden Kettle based here in Nuln. Word on the street says they have outposts all along the reik and talabec, but all of their gold goes here, as does most of their luxury goods, since the best sweets from araby and most of altdorf's wine has to go through Nuln anyway before it gets shipped out, and the rest needs to be sorted here and payments are double checked. So they have a few silos with varying items cordoned off near the docks. Now, the food and most of the gold will be heavily monitored, but the drink and sweets and some of the jewelry might be less so since they aren't in high demand or aren't highly valued in a siege."

"And what guards they have left will think starving people will be after the food and thieves will be after the gold," She reasoned, idly playing with the fringe of his black hair.

"And there's still probably a sizeable amount of gold we can find less guarded, or sizeable enough for two people. Sound good?" He asked.

The Hyborian Chronicles: Of Sword and Sorcery

"I wish you had done that earlier," Amal said, scooping his arm under Sythemis's own to help her to her feet. The snake woman clawed at him to keep steady, but it was more welcome than the beast's talons. The two stumbled across the undergrowth, the glistening foliage and the stuffy, sweet air of strange plants assailed them. It was something wholly alien to Amal, who had spent his entire life in the desert. He wanted nothing more than to be back at the bazaar, looting coin of fat shopkeepers and stupid noblemen, but he saw a gleam at the apex of the tower that caught his attention and desire.

"Hurry!" She said fervidly, the great bell ringing louder in their ears. Amal's muscles ached and bled, but he picked up the pace. His loping strides led them to the very edge of the eldritch jungle, and with his strength he leaped with Sythemis in his arms over a fern with a large spider scuttling over the leaves. The two hit the marbled floor of the tower, pitching over onto their hands and knees. Amal dragged himself up and helped the priestess as well.

"I hope I do not regret this," He said as he ascended the stairs, bounding up them with dauntless strength, Sythemis clutching him as they came to the very top.

A diamond stood on a plinth, flawless and shimmering in the light. It was exquisitely cut, and for all the riches Amal had seen, he was speechless before the item. He felt he could buy the whole of Kush with this, or make Aquilonian Kings beg for his favor.

"Take it! It is your destiny!" She cried, gripping his face and looking into his with her impossibly dark eyes. Without thought, his hands ran over her body, but he did not embrace her. The possibilities of all things flitted through his eyes, and he nodded after a moment of thought.

"You know, if it is my destiny to have this, I might need a queen to share it with." He said with a jackalish grin, and pulled away from her to approach the diamond. He did not slink or crouch, he was too tired and too mesmerized by the jewel and the woman for that. Without delay, as the bells roared and the superstructure around them began to shake, dust falling onto the forest floor, Amal took the diamond in his hand and held it before his eyes, losing himself in its brilliance.

Ill Met in Ostland

Marius's explanation of loaning etiquette was something he could handle. This miniature siege he felt wholly inadequate to perform admirably in. As soon as the window was broken, Marius fired his horse pistol and the guardsman's pistol into the din, sending smoke and the stench of powder wafting through the hall.

"Doon't feyer unless you hef a shoot." Natasha cautioned with a cool tone. It irked Marius how collected the woman was. In the midst of his furious reloading, he managed to glimpse her slowly placing her chin on her carbine, inhaling and slowly exhaling as she took a shot. A strangled cry went up in the din, and she smirked.

"Good job," He admitted, breathlessly. She gave him a wink, but before he could share a moment with her, something hit Marius's shoulder and sent him flying back against the side of the corridor. He found himself pinioned to the wall by something sticking into the cloth of his cloak and vest, just beside his neck. He pulled himself off the wall, ripping his top but luckily the merchant found he was uninjured.

"Sheet! They haf crussboos." She said, ducking just as a quarrel broke through another window, embedding into the wood above her head. Marius could guess why that was a problem. They might not have the punch of a musket ball, but they were quiet, with good range, and they didn't need powder. Natasha rolled forward and knelt before Marius, taking one of his pistols to help reload. "Gif me thet."

The two reloaded together as more quarrels and a few scattered gunshots splintered the wood around them. Marius fumbled the powder, but managed to catch it before it was fully spent and continued to pour it in. Just as they were finishing, there was a large knock just downstairs, followed by another, and then a third.

"Theh ar tekking ex to duur." She said, getting to her feet in a flash. Marius reached out to grab her hand, surprising even himself. "No, wait! You stay up here. I have an idea."

She looked at him incredulously, but nodded. Marius took his pistols and turned the corner, hurrying downstairs as quietly as he could. He ran past the barred front door, even then seeing an axe head chip through and rustle the chairs stacked against the timber. He ignored it, heading into the kitchen. This wasn't the most clever idea, but it was something. He opened the cabinet, pulling out flour and jugs of spices, then searching the doors to the counter. He scrambled to the table and shoved it aside, finding nothing underneath.

"If I were greedy guards, where would I keep the bloody alcohol?" He asked aloud, his thoughts having only the chopping in the next hall for company. Swiftly, it dawned on him. Marius knelt and whisked away the carpet in the kitchen, revealing a small door. He grabbed the iron ring and yanked the portal back to reveal a stairway leading into the darkness. Marius coughed at the sudden stuffiness but climbed down anyway, reaching the bottom of the cellar and finding three well stocked shelves of varying brews. To his utter disbelief, he also saw a sliver of light across the cellar.

"Sigmar's mercy..."

Marius grabbed all of the alcohol he could, pouring it over the door and the hallway as more shots rang out.

"Marioos! Waut ar yuu doing?!"

"One moment!" He called up, spreading the rest of the powder on the floor to add a bit of kick to his plan. Once four bottled were empty, he felt it was an adequate amount of flammable material, and he sprinted up the stairs to Natasha, who shot once more through the window. There was another strangled yell even as Marius grabbed her arm.

"Come with me, I know a way out." He told her.

"A wey oot?" She asked, confused.

"Yes, come on!"

The two grabbed their belongings and weapons and hurried downstairs just as the door was about to give way. Gun barrels were shoved through the holes and gunshots rang through the hall, whizzing by the two companions and they fled across the corridor to the kitchen Once they were there, Marius pointed to the cellar. "Get in fraulien. There's a door that leads outside. As soon as I give the signal, you need to go and run for the horses."

"Tha seegnal?"

"You'll know it!" He told her, urging her to go. She nodded, not understanding but knowing he had a plan and dropped down into the dimness. Once her black haired head disappeared, Marius gave a small prayer to Sigmar, his hands holding the two pistol barrels against his forehead. Sweat beaded down his brow, and he realized with embarrassment he felt very close to soiling himself.

He let out a yelp when the door to the main hall burst open, and loud voices rose as big men shouldered their way through. Marius turned the corner in the far doorway to the kitchen, poking his head around to see five guardsmen wearing Grunson colors marching in with axes and guns, one holding a readied crossbow pointed up. Their eyes swiveled to him as soon as they saw movement, and they hefted their weapons as one cried. "Give it up and it'll be painless!"

"Unfortunately for both my father and you gentlemen, I don't give up." Marius remarked theatrically, lowering his pistol at the gathered pile of blackpowder just a few paces away and exhaling as he pulled the trigger.

Things seemed to move in slow motion after that. Even knowing what was coming, Marius was taken aback by the explosive force. A concussive shockwave hit him even as he yanked himself around the corner, and he saw a glimpse of the guards faces just as the fire leaped up. One of them had the wits to look horrified, but the rest still looked either confused or simply angered. Of course, they were very dead now, but it was a snapshot he would remember for a long time. Heat billowed into the kitchen as Marius slid across the floor from the blast, flames leaping into sight. Screams outside showed that there had been more men hot on their heels. His ears rang and his head swam, but true to his previous statement, this Wissenland merchant was as stubborn as any Ostland bull. He pulled himself over to the cellar door and unceremoniously fell inside like a fallen rock. He coughed and felt ill, but light streamed from the left, and he heard a horse whinny. Marius pulled himself up and staggered across the cellar, holding his evidently damaged shoulder, bruised or harmed likely from having hit the ground so hard.

"Marioos!" He heard her voice.

Marius burst into the light.

At The Edge of The World

I looked at the snake bracelet, that had used to be a snake armlet, and had also decided to be a tattoo, and truth be told I was a bit lost. I sat there, big arms crossed and one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"So...that doesn't happen often, right?" I asked her.

"Not even once before, no." She said, though I could tell as she said it, she was questioning on whether it had ever occurred before without her knowledge or notice. At least she did not seem concerned, and that had to be good enough for me. While I knew some of my fair share of lore, magic was an enigma to my experiences. Then I had a thought, and I felt like she wouldn't like it, but I had to voice it anyway. "Do you think since you're up now, you can take watch and I can get a bit of sleep?"

She hid it well, but I could see the loathing in her eyes. Not at me, but at the fairness of the question, which I still felt somewhat guilty about even if I shouldn't. "Sure," she said. "It'll give me some time to see what exactly is going on with this snake talisman thingy anyway."

"Thanks," I told her, and settled in on my bit of cloth I had lain for a nap until sunrise. I felt Emmaline was a hero, even more experienced fighting monsters and trekking across untamed wilderness than I was. But at the time I guessed my homeland didn't suit her. She seemed off-put being out here now, after our first stay in civilization. I knew we couldn't reliably stay at the outpost when the rain and typhoons showed up. We would run out of money and food and likely lodging. That waystation was not meant to be used year-round. Even the innkeeper closed The Maw for two months out of the year, and often times boarded the place and left before the rains hit. Not to mention the reptilian beasts of the river grew more bold as the waters rose.

She would much prefer Darkwater, I knew for a fact. Good food, drink, music, and even art and culture. I was looking forward to going back, for sure. The last time I was there was a decade ago with my dad. I wondered if things were the same. As I drifted off to sleep, I decided I would see about getting Emmaline something notable when we got there. If we were together, I wanted to treat my girl. Just seemed natural to me. My world went dark as I wondered what it would be...

3 days later...

We had made good time. My arm got a good workout with having to hack through foliage and ferns, and Emmaline made sure to widen the path at my flanks as we moved. At one point, we found a clearing where a herd of reptilian behemoth's dwelled. They had three horns on their vast, shield-like heads. They were built like dwarven steam tanks, and one even looked our way. But none chased us off as we hugged the treeline and passed the impressively peaceful beasts.

Twice we had to traverse past waterways. The first time was a relatively clear stream Emmaline and I waded through, naught but fish and small mussels as company. We filled our canteens and restocked our supplies with a bit of fishing on my end. Well, I thought it was fishing. Emmaline was endlessly entertained when I stripped myself of my shirt and speared a few for dinner, watching me in a way that made me mess up in my attempt once or twice.

The other instance we had to cross was the problematic one. As we had hiked around a small cliff, climbing up an incline using a rope I had to fastened to a tree at the top of the slope with a well aimed swing, we found a river with what appeared to be large, darkly colored floating logs. I knew better as soon as I saw them, but my companion hadn't the experience I had in this area of the world.

Emmaline looked like she was ready to go across to just get it over with. "Well, at least we can use one of those logs as something to float across. Maybe there's a woodman's camp nearby? With beds and drinks..." but just as her foot touched the water I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back.

"Hey! What are yo-"

"Those aren't logs, babe." I said simply.

She wriggled for a moment, insisting I was crazy under her breath, but her eyes fell on the large objects in the water, and she gaped when one of the 'fallen trees' opened its eyes and then sunk into the water on its own accord.

"Oh..." she breathed, feeling a bit guilty for her lack of trust. She smiled remorsefully and turned around to a kiss on my lips. "Thanks. Glad to have a boyfriend with good eyes."

Her approval made me smile. "We're almost there. Across this river we just have two more days of walking and we'll be on clean sheets and I'll take you out to dinner at a nice place." I promised. She stepped back and I grabbed my rope and hook, double checking to make sure it was fastened and its integrity wasn't compromised before I started eyeballing the potential trees I could fling it at to use as a swing across the river.

"Once I find a spot, you go first. Just hold on tight and then toss it back." I told her, the hook already twirling over my head.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

The next day...

Emmaline and Neil had a fitful sleep. The kind of slumber that one got when they were so tired they could barely sleep, intermittently waking up every few hours to check there was no mutant standing over them with a battle axe. Neil finally woke up for real to an overcast sky, thunder or cannon fire or both, he didn't know, rumbled in the distance. Emmaline shot her head up when he stirred, her blonde hair frizzled and wild, awakening in mid-snort. She had bags under her eyes and drool on her lips. She looked like Neil felt, and judging by the sounds, the battle was still raging out there.

"Ugh...fuck it." Neil said, swinging his legs over and getting up out of the bed. They hadn't even had the energy to make out much less make love last night, and now the giant centipede, lack of sleep, and the overall existential dread of whether or not beastmen would break into the city had Neil grumpy, which was a rarity. He was a happy guy usually! He rubbed his left eye, scratching off bits of flaked, loose material that had coalesced over night and groaning.

"What babe?" Emmaline asked with a yawn, curling up atop the covers like a cat.

"I said fuck it." He relayed, chopping his hand out as if to cut a metaphysical cord that connected him to his bad mood. "Look, we've saved this city twice, we've almost died a bunch of times, I'm still considered dead and your cover is too and people here have mostly treated us like shit." He shook his head, as if what he was about to say was the most natural thing in the world. A cannon shot rang off just before he said it, the whistle of the ball high in the air. "Let's go looting."

Emmaline's full lips tried to articulate a question or response, but nothing came out other than a "huh?"

"Look," He said, turning around and placing his finger on the bed. "I know where some of the best booze in Nuln is, right now. The guards are too busy with the siege and the other looters and whatever beastmen can swim. We're not going to take anything that starving people will need, but I want to get drunk, have another party with you, and then if we can we leave the city..." He shrugged, "and if we can't at least we had a good time before we had to start fighting for our lives. Let's just go and grab the biggest haul of alcohol and chocolate that we can, bring it back here, and eat it right on this bed. Don't we deserve something nice? That sounds good, right?"

"Well it's not my usual manner of work, but... yeah, that sounds good." She admitted.

"It's not mine either, really. And by looting, I mean we should still be subtle about it. But it sounds cooler to call thievery looting. I think in a city under siege, legally we are obligated to call it that."

"I don't know if that's really the case..." Emmaline said, though she did smile a little.

"And after we loot and party and drink and fuck, I'll take us out of here and I'll give you Karl Franz's palace like I said." He told her. It was hard to imagine he was being serious, but it was always hard to tell with Neil Edwards.