The human body is astoundingly stubborn; it clings to life long after the will to live has bled from the spirit. Deny it sustenance, deny it rest, deny it more than a bare modicum of care or attention and still it struggles to rise each day. You can force your body to breathe ash and swallow poison, yet still your heart labors to beat as long as it possibly can. It’s sad, really, to think that every cell in your body struggles unceasingly to survive when you couldn’t care less if you even live through the night. I’d have died years ago if it were up to me. Somehow I keep waking each morning, though, so I’ll just keep going until the day I don’t. Give up, heart. Give in, lungs. Nothing in this world is worth your desperate striving. I long for the day I’ll never see, when you have finally learned to let go.
[The scene opens on the interior of a dim tavern, the name of which – Dragoneye Charlie’s – is painted above the bar in passably readable script. Judging by the dark windows and sparse remaining crowd, it’s nearly closing time. Only the regulars linger still, scattered among the bare wood tables and ill-lit corners, and even most of them have stopped ordering refills. Dragoneye Charlie himself stands behind the counter, idly polishing shot glasses as he keeps an eye on the two patrons still drinking at the bar. Despite their size, the tiefling and half-orc seem considerably tipsy. The tiefling, Remr, leans her elbows on the counter as Brutus, the half-orc, fights to keep his tears to a manly, albeit heartbroken, minimum. It is clear they have been here for a while.]
Brutus: I thought he was the one, okay? Like, deep down I knew he didn’t want anything serious, but I guess I thought it would be different with me, you know?
Remr [grimacing]: Oh, I know. And it’s never different. They’ll always leave you high and dry like a fuckin’… [she snaps her fingers] a fuckin’…
Remr: YEAH. Like a fuckin’ desert. Speaking of deserts, [she turns to Charlie and indicates their empty glasses] can I get another round over here?
[Dragoneye Charlie fills their glasses without comment.]
Brutus [staring into his glass]: I still have his yoga mat. Do you think I should let him know so he can come pick it up? It’s a nice mat. He probably wonders where it is. I should tell him.
Remr: No! Throw that thing away, man, like, just toss it. Make a clean break. It’s the only way you can move on. There are other fish in the sea. Other gay orc… fish. Like, so many, and you [she jabs Brutus’ chest with one finger to emphasize her point] could have any of them, because you are FABULOUS. No, wait, no, you know what? Forget about all those stupid fish. Dating’s for losers anyway. Who wants a person who’s, like, always around and supporting you and stuff? More time to discover miral… mircul… mir-AK-ulous scientific breakthroughs when you’re alone. [she chugs the remainder of her drink]
Brutus [confused]: I’m a baker.
Remr: Then more time to… I don’t know, invent better… pie. Hand pies. More time to invent better hand pies. [She holds out her empty glass to Charlie with a smile] More drink please!
Dragoneye Charlie [shaking his head]: I’m cutting you off.
Remr: But I’ve only had three!
Dragoneye Charlie: You’ve had six.
Remr [with much indignation]: …yeah, well… whatever, I’m a biologist, not a math-eh-muh-tician. Speaking of science, though, the process by which alcohol is fermented is fascinating on the molecular level, it really is. [she pulls a scrap of parchment and a piece of charcoal out of her pocket and starts drawing] You start with–
Brutus: Oookay. [he pats Remr’s shoulder with a giant hand] Let’s get you home.
Remr [blinking sleepily]: Oh. Okey doke. [she deposits a handful of coins on the bar and stands, or at least gets herself into a vertical position, albeit with a definite sway. Brutus, having weathered worse binges, hooks an arm around his companion and leads her out to the street with a minimal amount of wobbling. He deposits her at the door to her inn, where she revives a bit and slaps him on the shoulder in what she clearly intends to be a gesture of commiseration.]
Remr: Friendship’s all you need in life, buddy. Fuck that guy. Just you an’ me, it’s just you an’ me against the world. And science.
Brutus: Uh… thanks. [he pushes her toward the door] Get some sleep. And stop calling me in the middle of the night, okay?
Remr [attempting a combination of thumbs up and finger guns at the same time]: Call you in the middle of the night. Got it.
[She disappears through the door, just managing not to shut it on her tail. Brutus stares at the closed door for a second, contemplating how he got to this point in his life, then sighs and heads for his own home.]
[ The great DM in the sky told us to design masquerade outfits for our characters, so here is Remr being predictably nerdy and over the top. ]
“Companions, hello!” Remr hurried down the last few stairs to where her party waited and spun in a circle to show them her masquerade costume. Beneath her mask, she grinned with glee. “Get it?” The tiefling seemed very proud of her creation, and it was both easy and yet incredibly difficult to see why. On the one hand, her dress was clearly of very fine quality; black velvet, silk, and lace cascaded over the large black crinoline cage beneath, and at each bunching little jewels glimmered. Her mask, too, was of fine black lace and glittering jewels, and the raven feathers that framed it extended back to encompass her horns and wrap into her carefully spiked hair. On the other hand, though, the dress was also torn to shreds. The bodice was fine, neatly sewn and studded with rhinestones, but at her waist things seemed to have gone rather south. The front of the dress had been torn back completely, revealing the hoop skirt beneath. Its ragged edges tapered back to Remr’s sides, where the fabric devolved into a shredded mess that just brushed the floor. Likewise, Remr’s black sleeves and tights also sported tears halfway down and ended in unraveling strings. It was quite possibly the most expensive wreck any of them had ever seen.
Never and Tevasshus exchanged their usual Remr is being weird again look, but did not answer. Solena, still new to the group, smiled encouragingly yet waited for someone else to speak. Finally, Tarcella took the bait. “Get what? Did your dress lose a fight with a wolverine or something?”
“No, silly. I’m the concept of entropy!” Remr held out her arms as if a better display of the outfit might render further explanation unnecessary. She received only blank stares. Sighing, she lowered her arms. “I know what you’re thinking; this is way too oversimplified to really represent a complex thermodynamic system. I was worried about that. I almost went with a costume that represented the known universe using the mask as the sun and radiating outward and downward through the cloth of the dress based on the distances between objects in space, but I couldn’t get the calculations to accurately account for all the folds and pleats in the fabric. So I thought of this but then I wasn’t sure if people would understand that I was going for more of an artistic representation of the common understanding of entropy, you know, as in order versus disorder, versus the obviously more accurate and more recent understanding of entropy as it relates to quantum theory and statistical thermodynamics.” She frowned uncertainly. “Do you think anyone will call me on it?”
Silence. Blinking. More silence.
“Uh,” said Tarcella.
“…what the fuck,” said Never.
“I think you look great!” said Solena, despite having understood none of what Remr just explained.
“Oh good, thank you,” Remr, visibly relieved, hugged the cleric and then gestured toward the door with an excited grin. “Shall we be off, then?”
Yo, okay, even if you don’t read my sporadic updates about my DnD character Remr, Best Scientist Ever!!, you need to read this one cause it’s hilarious. Here goes:
- While exploring in the Lunanovan archives, Remr found the Sanderson Sisters’ book (yes, from Hocus Pocus) and with it she learned the Sticks into Snakes spell (SHE IS SO EXCITED) and the spell to turn someone into a cat. She hasn’t had a chance to try them yet, but you can bet she will at her very first opportunity.
- While in the archives, she also met a half-elf cleric named Solena who said her goddess had sent her to the city to find the party and journey with them. Without asking questions or really any hesitation whatsoever, Remr invited her to join the party and basically gave all their secrets away. What can I say? She likes to assume the best of people.
- She visited Fantasy Costco (where all your dreams come true!) and traded her collection of various body parts (including a frost giant’s toe) and somewhere between 25-30 live bug specimens for the following discount items:
- A Diadem of Brothaurity, which gives the wearer the eloquence of a diplomat; however, when wearing the diadem you can’t stop calling everyone “bro”.
- One wooden banana-shaped walkie talkie; if you call its companion walkie talkie, you wake up a cranky half-orc named Brutus who will yell at you for waking him up. If you remain on the line, he will then complain to you about his life. There is also a 2% chance your walkie talkie will ring and it will be Brutus calling to complain about his life to you.
- A Belt of Pants, which gives the wearer control over an illusion with which you can look like you’re wearing any kind of pants you want, or no pants at all.
- Thanks to Solena, who speaks Orc, Remr was able to learn that Brutus lives in the merchant market in the city of Tssun. He just broke up with his boyfriend because his boyfriend didn’t want a long-term relationship. Brutus is, therefore, trying to get back into the dating scene. Remr will definitely help him with that in the future.
- Remr managed to get the entire party into Tssun, which is currently controlled by the Big Bad, by using the diadem and her university papers to bluff that she was someone very important, and the others were her servants. The guards therefore thought she was an advisor to the Big Bad and waived them not only into the city but into the Big Bad’s headquarters. When it was discovered that the person the party had come to kill was no longer in Tssun, Remr then managed to not blow their cover and the party left without incident.
- I need to emphasize how really very impressive it is that Remr managed not to fuck any of that up. Like seriously. Her charisma is eight. EIGHT.
I also made the following decisions regarding her backstory:
- The university she works for is called Telvira University. Its colors are blue, gold, and white. Its crest features a crossed feather quill and falling four-pointed star (both gold) on a blue background. Telvira is extremely difficult to get into, and the tuition is atrocious.
- Remr’s family (surname N’Batshi) crest features two curving horns connected by four lines, which together make the stylized shape of a harp.
- She is still in love with her childhood friend, a Tiefling named La’lua’t’rashi’li’lata’kyr’ova, but thinks La’lua wants nothing to do with her because she stopped answering Remr’s letters once they graduated the DnD version of high school. However, the real reason is because La’lua has a secret identity as a magical girl, and is afraid that her enemies will try to harm Remr if they know she loves her. Will these star-crossed lovers ever be together? Tune in next time!
Oh arrogant angel with your disdainful eyes, your contemptuous lips,
you wear apathy like Armani on your slim hips, your fine wrists,
rich in the security of your superiority.
Your cruelty’s a tease, oh fickle moon with that sickle smile,
long limbs lax but your sharp tongue’s fast
and you go for the kill every time.
The following is an exchange that 100% happened between my DnD character (Remr, female tiefling) and my girlfriend’s character (Never, nonbinary dragonborn). Or maybe we were out of character. Or maybe even we aren’t sure. Anyway…
Remr: And the hot chick.
Never: [confused] Who’s the hot chick?
Remr: You know, [gestures vaguely] the hot chick. With the pointy teeth.
Remr: [snaps fingers] Yeah! The hot chick.
Never: She has a name.
Remr: Yeah, “hot chick”.
Never: [patience waning] You can’t just call them Hot Chick 3 and 7.
Remr: Well, no. [holds up a hand to start counting on her fingers] Hot Chick 3 would be–
Never: No, no, just stop. [holds hand out to silence her] There aren’t even 7.
Remr: [thoughtfully] Actually, if you count–
Also, here are some other recent hijinks!
The team got to ride on an airship, where it was learned that Remr has a sailor hat Tarcella gave her when they were kids. Tarcella named Remr her second in command on the ship because she just so happened to have read the schematics for fun. Remr then took out the hat to wear it, but it didn’t really fit on her head so she just kinda hooked it on one of her horns.
Later on when the ship was crashing, Remr and Tarcella both fell out of the front windows and would have fallen to their deaths in the ocean, but were saved at the last minute by Bao’ru.
- During a brief rest in the jungle, Remr spent her time collecting specimens of new or interesting bugs. At some point she ran out of containers to put them in, so she started stowing them in Never’s bags and then eventually just put them on the dragonborn themself for safekeeping.
“Why do you bother dressing like that every day?”
“What, I can’t look nice?”
“The dress shirt seems like overkill. And why the tie? You’re not even going anywhere.”
“Are you really giving me fashion advice when you’re not even out of bed yet, let alone dressed?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“It’s just habit, okay?”
“It’s a weird habit.”
“Says the man who wears nothing but black every day.”
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s served me just fine thus far.”
“Fine, I’ll lose the tie. But then you won’t have anything to yank on like a dog collar when you…”
“Okay, okay, you make a good point. Keep the tie; lose the shirt.”