Time flies

❤️

I wish you an uneventful long rest.

Maybe this one?
https://socksandpuppets.tumblr.com/post/730041410459435008/2-defeated-who-did-this

Also, I’m not a medical professional, but I was just wearing scrubs just now… post-processing a 3d resin print after working too much all week.

Which konsi are you?

While not comic panels, they did a daily Konsi for Gobtober.
https://mastodon.art/@socksandpuppets

This is why I subscribe.
A passionate comment about something I didn’t even know about.
Thanks

I love how the good voice and bad voice both suggest basically the same thing with different justifications.

Weird, I see >!spoilers!< tag like reddit uses and not the
::: title
\Content
:::
format that lemmy uses.
Are using a browser or an app?

Lemmy spoiler tagging format

::: spoiler about something
Details about something
:::

The purple Lamy ink is gorgeous.
For some reason, I can’t find my fountain pen (yes, one), so that’s probably good enough reason to buy another.

I think Solasta felt more like a D&D campaign than BG3 to me.
I wouldn’t say it’s better than BG3, but I liked you played more as a party instead of a protagonist with companions.
Neither of those are gonna offer as much shenanigans and nonsense than a table can (or vtt).

There’s so much bureaucracy and jumping through hoops to get medical care it’s insane.
All in your most vulnerable moments too.
Also, fuck cancer

Looks like a Microfilm reader?
As for the joke… It’s like the dungeon was so huge they had to “shrink” it to microfilm to be able to fit in “1 page”.

I wouldn’t say it’s a great joke, but that’s what I got out of that.

Well I mean, next time your party needs to escape from somewhere, book an escape room that has a theme that’s close enough.
There’d be no tabletop element, obviously no weapon or spells, although your players can still kinda roleplay in there.

Most escape rooms around here already have their own little backstory and an actor introduces you to their shtick and sometimes interacts with you through the thing.
If you call them ahead of time, they might agree to slightly alter their existing stuff to accommodate your story.

I was gonna give you advice on trapping them, but then I realized you were talking about their characters and not the actual players.
Then again, playing the odd session in an actual escape room might be fun.

Always upvote Morte, that’s a new rule I just made up.

The drow being black skinned and evil… while I had never associated drow with IRL people, I can see how that might be touchy in a modern context.

I read something from R.A. Salvatore recently where he mentioned giving the drow more depth without retconning anything.
Simply put, the classic drow, like those from Menzoberranzan, are indeed evil, but there are other drow societies out there that aren’t.
This implies the classic evil drow comes from their cruel upbringing rather than being inherent to their lineage, which is honestly something I always imagined to be the case.
Drizzt’s story already fits that.

I thought this is a pretty simple and effective way to modernize the take on drow, without messing with the stories that have already been told.

Pretend it’s a dragonborn, giant halfling?

Your party just met up for the first time at this retro restaurant and the robowaitress asks what you want to order.
You don’t have much in the way of company credits, so it’s a bit awkward as you barely have enough for anything on the holomenu.
[…] Luckily, your new patron to be notices and says they’ll take care of it.
“5 breakfast lab-bacon sandwiches” and waives his credstick.
You don’t know much about the guy, but even if this job of his doesn’t pan out, a meal’s a meal.

The corpo ad plays loudly on the holo:
Lab grown bacon is the closest thing to the real thing, 100% guaranteed
A small disclaimer, barely big enough to be legible scrolls in and out too quick, you make out the words “purge”, “reconstructed”, “flavor”, “simulation”, befit the thing pops out of existence the robowaitress heads off on skates.
It’s common historical knowledge, so you all know that actual pigs were all purged in huge mobile incinerators more than a decade ago after a bad wave of swine flu, so who’s to say what bacon was really like…
Rumour has it that the “lab” in labbacon is actually for labrador meat, which… you’re pretty sure is just an urban legend to scare kids into eating their synth-celery.
As you wait, your new patron cuts to the chase “So, before I spill the details on this job, tell me about yourselves? I like to know new contractors”
[…] /awkward roleplay […]

He eyes you suspiciously, like he’s not quite sure what to make of y’all.
“Alright, that’s for us, I’m starving”, he says with a big smile as the robowaitress zooms across the busy room with a big platter, expertly and effortlessly zigzagging between customers, bums and other hazards.
Then there’s a loud crash and a bunch of weirdly dressed, blindfolded weirdos appear out of thin air, flailing, swinging, dancing?
They’re chanting something you can’t make out and they’re dressed even more ridiculously than in these old holomovies you’ve seen (describe your old party, focusing on how out of place they are).

The platter goes flying and crashing as they start stomping around, seemingly intent on fighting your meal for some reason.

“Fucking Glitter addicts” Fixer McFixer Face mutters, standing up.

Roll initiative

On her turn, the robowaitress shouts a much louder, recorded message: “SIRS, THIS IS A WENDYS ™, DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY”

(After a few rounds of chaotic fighting or fruitless attempts at getting the intruders’ attention… they zap out of existence like they were never there, except for the mess.)

The robowaitress resumes her programming, bringing you a mostly empty platter with sad, smashed bits of food scattered here and there.
“Enjoy your meal, satisfaction guaranteed”
As she says the word guaranteed, there’s about 3 pages of legalese verbiage that scrolls in and out of existence faster than any human can probably ever read, classic. She storms off as soon as this blinks out.

He picks at bits of thin leathery brown-greenish strips of pressed labbacon pulp, and whatever destroyed remains and sighs with a resigned look.
“Well, I don’t know what the fuck this was about, but it seems you can handle yourself, you’re in.”
Getting his credstick out, he reserves the table for another half hour and orders a new platter.

(Start explaining their first job/adventure)

It’s like when you go to an office social event and realize you only ever talk to these guys about work stuff.

It’s funny because I just got back from the office social thing and yea whenever we drift to something else than work… yikes.