All posts by CthulhuBob Lovely


The bugs in my brain
Alien thoughts compel me
Bugs, so many bugs

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Organ Donor

Yes Ma’m, you were right, of course. There was a guy there, a wizard, sorcerer I guess you want us to call ‘em. Lucky you got that whole armory of weapons left over from the Great War. I was pretty nervous about the whole thing, my first mission. Cedric, Mr. Fong, let me check out two of the 12 gauges, thank God.

The people in the house looked normal, but they still tried to kill us. Had to put ‘em down. That was weird. We found a trap door under a large Oriental rug in the parlor.

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The Rat King, avatar of Mordiggian

The Rat King

I was there when it started, the plague, right there in that alley. I seen him, hunched old guy in a torn up, dirty brown bath robe. He had full facial hair, brown, and his hands and feet were covered with it too. His finger and toe nails were long and pointed.
He walked along, saying hello to everyone. When he smiled, his teeth were all brown, yellow, and black–rotten. He started doing this weird dance, held up his arms, and stared shouting or chanting in some weird language. “Eeya,” more digging,” that’s all I can remember.
He split up a little blood, started laughing, and huge rats started flowing out from under his robes–hundreds of them, thousands. They bit everybody in the ally. I don’t know how any of the other people ended up, but I got the fever and lived–as you can see.
What? Damn you, I’m not just some crazy old guy! I was an accountant before the market collapsed again. That’s how it works you know, up, down, up, down. When it’s down the world goes to shit.—Gerald Simmons, CPA.
“The old Rat King,
Is a very bad thing,
And where he goes,
The rats he brings”

–Popular children’s rhyme during the global plague of 2030-2043
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Skeeter Man, Unique Entity

It was just as I had read. It appeared as a large man in tattered clothes. Its jacket had two vertical slits in the back, from which its wings emerged. The bats swirling around it blocked most of the damage from Dawson’s shotgun. Thankfully, my Invisible Blade spell bypassed them. Between that, and the little bit of damage which made it through from Dawson, we finally put it down. The streams of bats were very distracting but, thankfully, they caused little harm.

—Byron Timmons, Team Wizard, Strike Team 1.
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The Filing Cabinet

The Filing Cabinet is four drawers high, and appears perfectly ordinary. Either wood or steel, it is slightly worn, has a few scratches, a touch of rust, very small dents, etc., but is in fine condition. It will appear to one or more of the Investigators as an auction item, at a yard sale, as a gift, simply standing on the porch when they go out in the morning, etc.

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Icky Ichor of the Beast

One thing which can be very unsatisfying in an investigative role playing game about the paranormal, the cosmic, the profoundly non-human, is a lack of results from scientific analysis.

If a player chooses a character who is a chemist, a biologist, a physicist, etc., they have as much right to fruitful scientific research as the tough character has to punch people, the shooty character to shoot stuff, and so forth.

Behind the screen I know the armor value, hit points, POW, etc. of the bad guys and monsters, but what do I know about the biology, biochemistry, and anatomy of the monsters themselves? Once the player characters have defeated the threat though the use of punching, shooting, and magic, what does the scientist do? They collect samples and bring them to their lab.

What is their reward? “It’s an unknown protein,” “The musculature is very unusual,” “It’s the scale of an animal you can’t identify” are not gratifying answers–in fact they’re simply unfair. Subsequent evidence which proves to be identical to previous samples may help in solving the problem, but it still yields no reward for playing the scientist character.

I did a couple of Google searches: first involving blood, the other cellular structure.

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CthulHaiku Beach Fun

Playing at the beach
Peculiar rock formation
Oh, shit, a deep one

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Gatherers: Vampire Variant

We only learned about these things recently. Intel was right on, the bastard lived in a mansion and he was huge—well over six feet tall, built like a locomotive, and sexy as hell. Charming too, so persuasive he, it, could almost talk you out of your mission directive. Still, Daddy didn’t raise no fool, and I was wearing my big girl panties. God knows how many people this thing had killed over the years. We discovered them when this one took three, one of whom was our supervisor and friend.

Johnson had the shot and cracked off two rounds, Mr. Handsome bled, that was a plus. I rolled my frag, just like a bowling ball; perfect strike, it came to rest right beneath his masculine wiles. We all dove for cover and the grenade roared like a beast, almost tore him in half. Bio came out and cleaned up. Everyone came home safe.

—Beverly “B.B.” Bates, Project Star Special Operations Team Leader, Delta Team, Debriefing Statement, File ZZ-1209.
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The Dreaming Blanket

We weren’t going to get the tire fixed before the next day, but this nice, elderly couple took us in. Name of Jeremy and Rebecca if I remember right.

When I got out of a much-needed hot shower, Rebecca greeted me with a quilt and a pillow. I wrapped myself up on the couch, and lay my head on the pillow. The quilt wasn’t very colorful, like many are, just a checkerboard of pink and grey, but it was warm and comfortable. I felt like I just gave myself to it.

I found myself back where I came up, I know I was thirteen, because my ma’s funeral had just been a week ago. As usual, I was runnin’ from my pa, not that he ever deserved to be called that. As always, he was shit-faced drunk.

I was high tailin’ for the woods, I could sometimes lose him in there. All of sudden, right at the wood line, there was this huge tree stump I’d never seen before. It must have been three feet across.

Just like that, the thing melted into slime, black with streaks of dark green, and rose up way over my head. A huge mouth split side to side, drooling more of that gunk, and a huge eye opened up right above that.

I panicked. I turned back. There, right up close to me, was that mean, ol’ bastard. He was dead, but standing, with his skin all melting. Flies were swarming his exposed muscles, and maggots were eatin’ his eyes.

‘Bout three in the morning, I woke up screaming. 

The old couple’s bedroom door opened, and Jeremy walked out, real casual. He asked if I was okay, and offered me a glass of water.

Still, just before that, I swear I thought I heard the two of them laughing, real soft.

–Lt. Colonel Bennet Blake, USAF (RET.), drunk, at a bar in Waxahachie, Texas.
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Jasmine, Avatar of Isis

She was beautiful, unbelievable, dark brown skin and long, long, flowing back hair. Her every move wafted the sweetness of jasmine flowers. She wore long, flowing, silk skirts and blouse, all hand-dyed in brilliant colors. They swirled at her slightest turn, dancing with her hair. Her eyes were a deep brown, and when she fixed them onto you, she called you, silently, into some ancient and wondrous place.

–Jonathon Oliver: weary, desperate, and half-mad defender of Humanity.

As an avatar of the Elder god Isis, Jasmine occasionally appears to investigators of the Cthulhu Mythos and provides them a small degree of support and comfort.

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