Say... 19s are crits, right? So, I would assume that, in the case of an ineffective attack rolling a nineteen, then both the 2.5 and 0.5 modifiers would be applied simultaneously? I'm gonna go with that, and hope that that's how it works. Because the crit not counting would be silly, and the crit overriding ineffectiveness would be very unfortunate for a certain MC...
Zendrelax Member
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I should probably clarify that I draw maps fictional places. Usually ones that I make up as I draw them.
As for dungeon maps... I could, but I'd need to know the layout, so it probably wouldn't happen until afterwords—because spoilers—but it sounds kinda fun. Just don't give me exact measurements—I will literally drive myself crazy trying to make everything exactly to scale.
As for dungeon maps... I could, but I'd need to know the layout, so it probably wouldn't happen until afterwords—because spoilers—but it sounds kinda fun. Just don't give me exact measurements—I will literally drive myself crazy trying to make everything exactly to scale.
<Snipped quote by Zendrelax>
The only maps I've ever drawn were on graph paper lol Would also love to see a sample if you want to provide one.
As for the resistance question, the damage is halved.
I'll edit the damage declaration in my post. I'll also see about getting an example of a map I drew, but I might not be able to find one. Of course, I won't exactly mind it.
I enjoy drawing maps. That's also all I'm good at drawing, coincidentally.
More related to the game, I thought to check and Kazuo is resistant to Gruffydd's (slash) weapon, but I can't find the mechanics for how resistances work in the OP. Halp.
More related to the game, I thought to check and Kazuo is resistant to Gruffydd's (slash) weapon, but I can't find the mechanics for how resistances work in the OP. Halp.
HP: 47/68
SP: 52/52
The blast from the fire knocked that which once had been Gruffydd to the ground. There was a wail of pain when the fire struck, and a grunt on impact with the ground. Somehow, the shovel had not been knocked away. Standing up again was slow, but it was done.
"Well, that was enlightening." Great amusement could be seen in sickly yellow eyes. "But to so readily play with fire? You might burn yourself. Or me." That which once was Gruffydd approached Kazuo, now much more slowly. "So calm. So collected. And all the while you play with fire. A deep chuckled echoed from beneath the stag's face. "You could kill someone like that, you know. Do you even care? Maybe you do belong in this Den of Monsters after all. But even if you do, I don't take kindly to people trying to kill me."
[Roll: 16! 11 Damage dealt to Kazuo!]
The swing of the shovel was fast, and hit Kazuo solidly in the body. "I simply must return the favor."
"What are you talking about? I have a home. I have a family." Gruffydd was upset at this random bartender's assertion, but was doing his best to remain calm.
"Sure, you have a family. They're good people. Your parents don't force you to leave home, or deride or degrade you. But come on Gruffydd, you know better."
"And just what the hell does that mean!?" He snapped. The song and dance in the tavern had died. Everyone there, from the Giants to the Rats, was staring at him, and the people close to him backed away.
"Quite simply, Gruffydd, you don't belong. Not there, not with them. They're good people, after all. Hell, they're people."
Gruffydd was unnerved by the silence and the stares, but he pushed beyond that. "And you're implying that I'm not?"
The Innkeeper chuckled. "It's quite simple, really, only Monsters kill."
Gruffydd flinched. "It was in self-defense"
The Innkeeper's laughter reverberated throughout the room. "Yes, because that makes it all better. You ended human life. Living, breathing, thinking people. The law may make exceptions for self-defense, but you know as well as I do that nothing can morally justify what you did. There is no ethical exception. It just proves what they were saying about you in the first place. That you are an animal." The ground beneath Gruffydd vanished, and he fell through. He landed hard on the cold ground, a sharp contrast from the warmth of the fire. Looking up, he could see the hole he had fallen through, the light from the fire streaming down.
The hole in the roof vanished, and the light of the fire with it. But the room was not dark. There was a faint glow emanating from behind where Gruffydd fell. As he stood, he heard the breathing of a very large creature behind him. He slowly turned around to find a large beast, covered in white fur, with long proud horns, and unblinking, piercing green eyes. Gruffydd jumped back with a yelp, landing on his behind. The beast move, and he heard the clanking of metal. A second look revealed that the beast was shackled to the wall with great iron chains, and it was the source of the faint glow in the room.
"So stay a while in the cage, where the animals belong."
SP: 52/52
The blast from the fire knocked that which once had been Gruffydd to the ground. There was a wail of pain when the fire struck, and a grunt on impact with the ground. Somehow, the shovel had not been knocked away. Standing up again was slow, but it was done.
"Well, that was enlightening." Great amusement could be seen in sickly yellow eyes. "But to so readily play with fire? You might burn yourself. Or me." That which once was Gruffydd approached Kazuo, now much more slowly. "So calm. So collected. And all the while you play with fire. A deep chuckled echoed from beneath the stag's face. "You could kill someone like that, you know. Do you even care? Maybe you do belong in this Den of Monsters after all. But even if you do, I don't take kindly to people trying to kill me."
[Roll: 16! 11 Damage dealt to Kazuo!]
The swing of the shovel was fast, and hit Kazuo solidly in the body. "I simply must return the favor."
"What are you talking about? I have a home. I have a family." Gruffydd was upset at this random bartender's assertion, but was doing his best to remain calm.
"Sure, you have a family. They're good people. Your parents don't force you to leave home, or deride or degrade you. But come on Gruffydd, you know better."
"And just what the hell does that mean!?" He snapped. The song and dance in the tavern had died. Everyone there, from the Giants to the Rats, was staring at him, and the people close to him backed away.
"Quite simply, Gruffydd, you don't belong. Not there, not with them. They're good people, after all. Hell, they're people."
Gruffydd was unnerved by the silence and the stares, but he pushed beyond that. "And you're implying that I'm not?"
The Innkeeper chuckled. "It's quite simple, really, only Monsters kill."
Gruffydd flinched. "It was in self-defense"
The Innkeeper's laughter reverberated throughout the room. "Yes, because that makes it all better. You ended human life. Living, breathing, thinking people. The law may make exceptions for self-defense, but you know as well as I do that nothing can morally justify what you did. There is no ethical exception. It just proves what they were saying about you in the first place. That you are an animal." The ground beneath Gruffydd vanished, and he fell through. He landed hard on the cold ground, a sharp contrast from the warmth of the fire. Looking up, he could see the hole he had fallen through, the light from the fire streaming down.
The hole in the roof vanished, and the light of the fire with it. But the room was not dark. There was a faint glow emanating from behind where Gruffydd fell. As he stood, he heard the breathing of a very large creature behind him. He slowly turned around to find a large beast, covered in white fur, with long proud horns, and unblinking, piercing green eyes. Gruffydd jumped back with a yelp, landing on his behind. The beast move, and he heard the clanking of metal. A second look revealed that the beast was shackled to the wall with great iron chains, and it was the source of the faint glow in the room.
"So stay a while in the cage, where the animals belong."
Alright, I'll just say this and end it here cause I need to go offline. If anyone has decided to write their character's memories/issues/whatever to be so insane that they can't go through this process of obtaining their Persona then now would be the time to tone that shit down.
Oh, I know exactly how I'm going to get Gruffydd through his issues. I just want to have some fun with him first.
For a while, Gruffydd knew only his breath. The desolate landscape, his still classmates, even his own trembling form were, for a time, unknown to him.
Then, he heard Kazuo speak. “Per…so…na.”
And, as a mask—the head of a stag—appeared on his face, and his eyes turned a sickly yellow, his worl became nothing.
”Heh…heh…heh…” The head that once belonged to Gruffydd tilted to the side as large, inhuman yellow eyes fell upon the writhing shadows. ”Well, well, well. A den of monsters.” A smirk broke out under the stag’s face. ”Looks like I finally found somewhere I belong.” There was laughter like the barking of a hyena, and those yellow eyes fell on Kazuo. “But you don’t belong here. You are an incursion. An invader.” The words ceased with a snarl. The snarl grew into an animalistic roar, and the body that once was Gruffydd’s charged Kazuo, its gait ate the distance between them, and the shovel its hands held was raised into the air to bring down onto the invader’s head.
Guffydd could hear music. A flute, to be exact. His eyes opened to the light of a fire. It was at the center of wooden room. All sort of figures danced around the fire. They all looked familiar to Gruffydd, but he couldn’t place them. Eventually, his gaze fell on a man dressed in red and gold, wearing a pointed hat. He was the one playing the flute. Immediately around him danced two dozen children, and a massive horde of rats. Gruffydd didn’t know this man, but children, rats, and a flute player only came together in one place. In a story.
”The Pied Piper.” A character from folklore. Gruffydd scanned the room again, and sure enough, every person there was from a folk tale he had read. ”That’s… strange. Where the hell am I?”
”An Inn. A roadside tavern.” Gruffydd whipped his head around to look at the speaker. He was seated behind the bar, and so obviously the proprieter of this “roadside tavern.” He was hidden in shadows, but his voice—strangely familiar—was clearly male. Gruffydd’s expression turned to one of further confusion, and the innkeeper chuckled.
”What better place is there for someone who doesn’t belong anywhwere?
Then, he heard Kazuo speak. “Per…so…na.”
And, as a mask—the head of a stag—appeared on his face, and his eyes turned a sickly yellow, his worl became nothing.
”Heh…heh…heh…” The head that once belonged to Gruffydd tilted to the side as large, inhuman yellow eyes fell upon the writhing shadows. ”Well, well, well. A den of monsters.” A smirk broke out under the stag’s face. ”Looks like I finally found somewhere I belong.” There was laughter like the barking of a hyena, and those yellow eyes fell on Kazuo. “But you don’t belong here. You are an incursion. An invader.” The words ceased with a snarl. The snarl grew into an animalistic roar, and the body that once was Gruffydd’s charged Kazuo, its gait ate the distance between them, and the shovel its hands held was raised into the air to bring down onto the invader’s head.
Guffydd could hear music. A flute, to be exact. His eyes opened to the light of a fire. It was at the center of wooden room. All sort of figures danced around the fire. They all looked familiar to Gruffydd, but he couldn’t place them. Eventually, his gaze fell on a man dressed in red and gold, wearing a pointed hat. He was the one playing the flute. Immediately around him danced two dozen children, and a massive horde of rats. Gruffydd didn’t know this man, but children, rats, and a flute player only came together in one place. In a story.
”The Pied Piper.” A character from folklore. Gruffydd scanned the room again, and sure enough, every person there was from a folk tale he had read. ”That’s… strange. Where the hell am I?”
”An Inn. A roadside tavern.” Gruffydd whipped his head around to look at the speaker. He was seated behind the bar, and so obviously the proprieter of this “roadside tavern.” He was hidden in shadows, but his voice—strangely familiar—was clearly male. Gruffydd’s expression turned to one of further confusion, and the innkeeper chuckled.
”What better place is there for someone who doesn’t belong anywhwere?
Some of these students are about to get "randomly selected" for a therapy class.
You joke now, but remember, remember that this is Persona. The MC is basically everyone's personal therapist.
Damn… just… damn. Why does he have to be right!? Gruffydd was, in a word, furious. He was furious at the Professor. He was furious at this hellhole he was in. He was furious at Haruto for apparently thinking this was some sort of game. He was furious at Kazuo for being right when he called for them to stop. But most of all, he was furious at himself for letting his anger get the better of him, again. But Kazuo’s plan for sticking together had a side effect—it killed the momentum of Gruffydd’s anger, causing it to sputter and die. Without the anger to smother his fear, it came roaring back. Gruffydd’s heart leapt into his throat as place out of sight became a potential hiding spot for another creature like the one who took Ms. Sasaki. He nearly jumped out of his skin when, when his foot shuffled into—of all things—a discarded shovel. He wasted no time picking it up—while it might not be particularly affective against whatever abominations infested this hellhole, it would do a hell of a lot more than his fists.
He nodded a brief acknowledgement of Kazuo when he addressed them, having regained some of his composure with his newly acquired shovel-cum-safety-blanket, and wandered in the same general vicinity as his startlingly calm classmate, taking some comfort in the fact that he was able to keep a level head in this mess. I guess we have our de facto leader until we get out of here.
That’s when he heard the sound of television static. He walked over to where Kazuo was to see what was going on, only to see the white ‘snow’ scattered across the screens. ”How the hell are they even working in this dump?” No sooner than he had said that, some of the others began reacting to the screens. But he could see only static. He was about to say something, when he heard a voice.
”You like stories, don’t you? Everyone loves a good story.”
The hell is this nonsense?
”Our story today is that of an invader. Of a monster. Of the vilest kind of monster that exists..”
No… that doesn’t make any–
”The kind that masquerades as a human, pretending it’s some sort of person.” Gruffydd’s breath caught in his throat. It had no place, you see. Its own homeland had moved on from where it remained, so it saw to defile another. The static on the screen shifted and coalesced. Human-shaped blobs of light grey moved between great trees of a much darker grey. A much larger, pure white figure entered the scene. ”But this land’s inhabitants were not the kind to stand idly by.” The grey figures slowly filtered out, and slowly adopted more human skin-tones, eventually becoming recognizable people. Gruffydd’s entire body was trembling. The screen zoomed closer, and while once-grey figures were clearly human, the white-human looked more indistinct, and even more bestial.
When the monster entered their midst, they confronted it. The people circled the bestial figure, and while none of their voices could be heard, their lips were seen to move, and their intent was clear. ”The monster tried to force its way past.” The beast tried to shove its way through, but the people amassed in its way and shoved it to the ground. ”They were not having it, and retaliated.” The humans descended on the beast, fists and feet flailing. “But then the monster chose this moment to show its true colors.” An ear-splitting roar erupted from the television, and the white figure emerged from the human pile, launching one of said humans into the air. He fell upon the ground, and the screen was stained with red. The beast was in a berserk rage, and soon two more humans fell upon the ground, the sites of their impact staining the screen further. The other humans fled as the red spread across the screen, overcoming the beast last of all. Another ear-splitting roar, even louder this time, issued forth. Gruffydd didn’t even think. He swung the shovel at the television. It blinked off right before theshovel connected, wrecking the appliance.
Gruffydd was hunched over, drenched in sweat, and his entire body was trembling.
He nodded a brief acknowledgement of Kazuo when he addressed them, having regained some of his composure with his newly acquired shovel-cum-safety-blanket, and wandered in the same general vicinity as his startlingly calm classmate, taking some comfort in the fact that he was able to keep a level head in this mess. I guess we have our de facto leader until we get out of here.
That’s when he heard the sound of television static. He walked over to where Kazuo was to see what was going on, only to see the white ‘snow’ scattered across the screens. ”How the hell are they even working in this dump?” No sooner than he had said that, some of the others began reacting to the screens. But he could see only static. He was about to say something, when he heard a voice.
”You like stories, don’t you? Everyone loves a good story.”
The hell is this nonsense?
”Our story today is that of an invader. Of a monster. Of the vilest kind of monster that exists..”
No… that doesn’t make any–
”The kind that masquerades as a human, pretending it’s some sort of person.” Gruffydd’s breath caught in his throat. It had no place, you see. Its own homeland had moved on from where it remained, so it saw to defile another. The static on the screen shifted and coalesced. Human-shaped blobs of light grey moved between great trees of a much darker grey. A much larger, pure white figure entered the scene. ”But this land’s inhabitants were not the kind to stand idly by.” The grey figures slowly filtered out, and slowly adopted more human skin-tones, eventually becoming recognizable people. Gruffydd’s entire body was trembling. The screen zoomed closer, and while once-grey figures were clearly human, the white-human looked more indistinct, and even more bestial.
When the monster entered their midst, they confronted it. The people circled the bestial figure, and while none of their voices could be heard, their lips were seen to move, and their intent was clear. ”The monster tried to force its way past.” The beast tried to shove its way through, but the people amassed in its way and shoved it to the ground. ”They were not having it, and retaliated.” The humans descended on the beast, fists and feet flailing. “But then the monster chose this moment to show its true colors.” An ear-splitting roar erupted from the television, and the white figure emerged from the human pile, launching one of said humans into the air. He fell upon the ground, and the screen was stained with red. The beast was in a berserk rage, and soon two more humans fell upon the ground, the sites of their impact staining the screen further. The other humans fled as the red spread across the screen, overcoming the beast last of all. Another ear-splitting roar, even louder this time, issued forth. Gruffydd didn’t even think. He swung the shovel at the television. It blinked off right before theshovel connected, wrecking the appliance.
Gruffydd was hunched over, drenched in sweat, and his entire body was trembling.
Not sure about one-up-manship, but this is Persona. Everyone is royally fucked up.
...Okay, that's an over-exageration, but you asked for fucked up.
...Okay, that's an over-exageration, but you asked for fucked up.
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