13th Random Encounter
[Well, it seems there's a new law about being required to drink a big tall glass of milk every day. While some of his neighbors have been blatantly ignoring Police Chief Milkman's most important new law, Red Mage has clearly decided that his alignment needs shifting a few more points in the Lawful direction. And so, he will be following instructions to the letter, drinking a different kind of milk every day until the end of the event with no regard whatsoever for his own safety.]
[Day 1 - Razor Blades]
[Red Mage enjoys this glass of milk while reading his morning paper. Even though it cuts his mouth and throat up rather badly, he finishes the entire glass. Once he's done, he sets about to healing himself like usual. Except for the fact that it doesn't work. So housemates, feel free to catch him stumbling around the house as he loses blood, with some razors still embedded into his cheeks.]
Mrgghl... mst heal!
[He periodically attempts a Cure3 spell on himself, to no avail. Later on, he can be found stumbling around outside with a piece of paper in his hand as he tries feebly to write something on it with his own blood. If you can read through his messy handwriting, it says something to the tune of EMERGENCY SURGERY +20.]
[Day 2 - Special Milk]
[Today, Red Mage seems fairly lucid, if he can ever be said to be so. However, some people might catch him talking to thin air as he makes his way around town.]
I've told you a thousand times already. You are not real. You are simply a manifestation of my 3-point Hallucinations flaw. We've been over this.
[As the day goes on and his conversations with his phantom friend continue, they become more animated.]
Yes, that's right, keep right on talking. All you're doing is giving me more bonus XP. Go ahead, see if I care.
[And eventually, the interactions turn violent, as RM begins yelling and hurling Ice spells in every direction.]
Go away! Shut up already! This level of constant annoyance is easily a 5-point flaw! Which I will remind you I wrote on my own character sheet by my own hand! I brought you into my subconscious, and I can just as easily boot you right back out of it again!
[Perhaps one of his wildly-aimed Ice spells is headed in your direction! He can't tell who's Megahedron and who's not at this point.]
[Day 3 - Hormone Free Milk]
[And now, on to manic depressive mode. This is mostly represented by Red Mage sitting on his porch outside, scribbling madly at his character sheet.]
There! Yes! I've finally conocted the perfect combination of stats, skills, and spells to assure my ascension to godhead! Any moment now...
[Moments pass. Nothing happens. Red Mage's expression turns stormy as he shreds the sheet into pieces, scattering it all over the front lawn.]
Useless! That's what you are, Red Mage - useless! What was I even thinking? So many useless cross-class ranks... I should have specialized more!
[His mood then quickly shifts from anger to despair, and he breaks down into tears.]
I'm a disgrace to the Order! I have no right to call myself a thaumaturgical genius! None whatsoever!
[Day 4 - Poison]
[Red Mage spends almost the entire day in the bathroom of 1765 Beaver Street. There are all sorts of suspicious and horrible sounds coming from in there. To make matters worse, the window has been left open, so anyone who happens to be walking by the house can hear it all as well.]
Damn you, white magic! Work, damn you! Chaos claim this foul-tempered digestive tract!
[Day 5 - Grade A Poison]
[First thing in the morning, Red Mage consumes the poisonous milk, undeterred by his day-long digestive escapades of the previous day. He immediately passes out at the breakfast table after finishing the glass.
Several hours later, he wakes up and can be found walking around Mayfield to various stores attempting to finish some of the quests he'd been given previously. Throughout the day, however, he just looks worse and worse. Eventually, he's all but dragging himself from place to place, his skin pallid and clammy and his voice trembling.]
Th-this...? Ha! I've had... worse.
[At some point, he just collapses right there on the sidewalk. Unable to move, he lies there muttering various insanities to himself as his fever skyrockets. Shaking as he slowly dies, he seems to only barely notice Mayfield's other citizens moving around him, though he'll still respond if addressed directly and loudly.]
[Day 6 - Extra Fortified Poison]
[Red Mage is barely out the door this morning before the milk kills him. He opens the door, pointing a finger into the air in clear preparation to make some sort of dramatic pronouncement... and then tumbles forward. His body limply rolls down the front steps to his house, crumpling unceremoniously to the sidewalk out in front. To anyone who checks, he is quite dead.]
[Day 1 - Razor Blades]
[Red Mage enjoys this glass of milk while reading his morning paper. Even though it cuts his mouth and throat up rather badly, he finishes the entire glass. Once he's done, he sets about to healing himself like usual. Except for the fact that it doesn't work. So housemates, feel free to catch him stumbling around the house as he loses blood, with some razors still embedded into his cheeks.]
Mrgghl... mst heal!
[He periodically attempts a Cure3 spell on himself, to no avail. Later on, he can be found stumbling around outside with a piece of paper in his hand as he tries feebly to write something on it with his own blood. If you can read through his messy handwriting, it says something to the tune of EMERGENCY SURGERY +20.]
[Day 2 - Special Milk]
[Today, Red Mage seems fairly lucid, if he can ever be said to be so. However, some people might catch him talking to thin air as he makes his way around town.]
I've told you a thousand times already. You are not real. You are simply a manifestation of my 3-point Hallucinations flaw. We've been over this.
[As the day goes on and his conversations with his phantom friend continue, they become more animated.]
Yes, that's right, keep right on talking. All you're doing is giving me more bonus XP. Go ahead, see if I care.
[And eventually, the interactions turn violent, as RM begins yelling and hurling Ice spells in every direction.]
Go away! Shut up already! This level of constant annoyance is easily a 5-point flaw! Which I will remind you I wrote on my own character sheet by my own hand! I brought you into my subconscious, and I can just as easily boot you right back out of it again!
[Perhaps one of his wildly-aimed Ice spells is headed in your direction! He can't tell who's Megahedron and who's not at this point.]
[Day 3 - Hormone Free Milk]
[And now, on to manic depressive mode. This is mostly represented by Red Mage sitting on his porch outside, scribbling madly at his character sheet.]
There! Yes! I've finally conocted the perfect combination of stats, skills, and spells to assure my ascension to godhead! Any moment now...
[Moments pass. Nothing happens. Red Mage's expression turns stormy as he shreds the sheet into pieces, scattering it all over the front lawn.]
Useless! That's what you are, Red Mage - useless! What was I even thinking? So many useless cross-class ranks... I should have specialized more!
[His mood then quickly shifts from anger to despair, and he breaks down into tears.]
I'm a disgrace to the Order! I have no right to call myself a thaumaturgical genius! None whatsoever!
[Day 4 - Poison]
[Red Mage spends almost the entire day in the bathroom of 1765 Beaver Street. There are all sorts of suspicious and horrible sounds coming from in there. To make matters worse, the window has been left open, so anyone who happens to be walking by the house can hear it all as well.]
Damn you, white magic! Work, damn you! Chaos claim this foul-tempered digestive tract!
[Day 5 - Grade A Poison]
[First thing in the morning, Red Mage consumes the poisonous milk, undeterred by his day-long digestive escapades of the previous day. He immediately passes out at the breakfast table after finishing the glass.
Several hours later, he wakes up and can be found walking around Mayfield to various stores attempting to finish some of the quests he'd been given previously. Throughout the day, however, he just looks worse and worse. Eventually, he's all but dragging himself from place to place, his skin pallid and clammy and his voice trembling.]
Th-this...? Ha! I've had... worse.
[At some point, he just collapses right there on the sidewalk. Unable to move, he lies there muttering various insanities to himself as his fever skyrockets. Shaking as he slowly dies, he seems to only barely notice Mayfield's other citizens moving around him, though he'll still respond if addressed directly and loudly.]
[Day 6 - Extra Fortified Poison]
[Red Mage is barely out the door this morning before the milk kills him. He opens the door, pointing a finger into the air in clear preparation to make some sort of dramatic pronouncement... and then tumbles forward. His body limply rolls down the front steps to his house, crumpling unceremoniously to the sidewalk out in front. To anyone who checks, he is quite dead.]