u/LittleLeatherMan

I'm designing a dice engine/game and am writing the equipment list, almost the last thing left to do. My problem is I want the game to be able to be set anywhere, not just one place. There is no magic, but still, it could be Victorian etc. So is it ok to just say "Light Melee weapon" as equipment, or does it look lazy? I don't mind the effort, but just don't want to cover all the major settings. My idea was to have a list of broad, vague weapons and have players interpret what they are based on where they set it, will this work?

looking for a semi detailed explanation but simplified for a tired guy. by how it works I mean why the A27 is labelled as such etc. love infrastructure and this sub was the closest I could find to ask

so i have focal awareness seizures usually and was in hospital to do some test and have some IV meds. I had the needle in my hand for the cannula, and as they were removing the needle started to feel faint. I said to the nurse “I’m going to faint” before passing out. I woke up with an oxygen mask on and 12 people around me, no idea what happened. I assume i had fainted from fear of the blood test but it was explained to me I might have had a non convulsive unconscious seizure, my first in over 8 years when I had a clonic tonic. when I properly awoke, I found I had past out, my eyes had flickered back and forth and I had wet myself for 30 seconds. The hospital disagree whether it was a seizure or a strange faint, I personally think it might have been a siezure, but what do you think?

so I was going through a pretty sh/t year tbh. my local hospital transferred me t the specialist neurologist hospital for more tests and care. bare in mind my siezures present as wrenching no dry sickening, so an unusual presentation and I didn’t know any of these doctors. at first they said it was psychological, but we informed them this is just how they present. so they said ‘you have had too many doses of your relief medication (buckle midazolam), so we must IV. I braved th IV and had Phenytoin…which made me high. I’ve never takes illegal drugs, but this was close. I kept thanking the staff, laughing unco and thanking the nurses multiple times (app whilst slurring). Now I was 12-14, and had no idea who or what Durex or condoms where. But for some reason I blurted out ‘mum, why am I sponsored by Durex?’ Which made the whole room uncomfortable as my t-shirt said PEACE’ on it.

turns out my brain had confused andrex (the toilet paper brand) with deluxe (the paint brand)

awkward all round. did anything like this happen to you?

so long story short I was diagnosed at 7 with temperal lobe epilepsy. I wasn’t believed by teachers or doctors until I had a tonic clonic as my seizures present as retching and belching episodes of 1-2 mins, which was put down to attention seeking and anxiety (as I was at the time recently diagnosed with autism). Now nearly 9 years later, they are not under control and I am still trying to work all this out.

but I wondered…does anyone else present like this? I know it’s atypical presentation, so I would be curious to know if anyone else has these or similar seizures, and what your journey with them was.

I know the whole idea of cosmic horror is immense, undescribable beings, but what if the fear was of something so powerful and immense, yet so small?

edit: officially calling this quantum horror

hi! I got diagnosed with autism and epilepsy around the e same time (6-8). i am now having a difficult time with epilepsy related issues, but as of this discovered that autism and epilepsy can be linked genetically. I knew they were both forms of ND, but didn’t know inheriting one could lead to the other.

does anyone else have both? what are your experiences with this?

I would like to see this from different genres, like cosmic horror, dystopian fiction etc

Through the fog, a few miles east of the bjørgmûnd archipelago, rocked a small, fragile fishing boat. Its front lighting illuminated a few feet in front of it, which created a false sense of security for the angler, who sat perched on the edge of the boat. The cold night air was brisk, but comforting. He held his fishing rod whilst he looked out into the water, as he contemplated why he was here.

The truth was—he was curious.

He had heard the rumours, the old fisherman’s tales of what lurked in these waters, and needed to see for himself. The angler had been told by locals (residents of the fishing village of Hardshore) to “leave the waters alone”. He had noted that they seemed disturbed, the features that make a man human had seemed to have faded, and their fear when talking of the “Abyssal Horror” (as they called it) was almost too real to just be a story to scare children, or the tale of a drunken sailor who saw a whale through the distorted lens of whisky.

And yet despite that—despite the warnings, the red flags— here he was, fishing for answers, fishing for the truth.

The angler felt a tug on the line, and started to reel it in, with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. The hook came out of the water attached to a fish about the size of a trout. At first glance, this fish was an ordinary catch however, on closer inspection, it was anything but. It is, of course, usual for a fish to still be alive when out of the water—but this particular fish seemed to be…undead, as if inhabited by an otherworldly essence. The eyes glowed ghostly green and from underneath the scales, a flesh like substance oozed out, whilst the creature writhed and…screamed? Yes, screamed! It appeared to be screaming, howling in some unknown tongue. The angler grabbed the fish with force and bashed it against the deck again and again and again. After the 11th bash, the angler dropped it and stood back—taking a breath. After 5 seconds of silence, observing the battered and beaten fish, he decided it was, and truly, dead.
The encounter had shocked the angler, but had also intrigued him. He used the fishing rod to dig through the remains of the fish, looking for clues as to what caused this poor creature so much pain. He dug through liver, lungs and brain before finding the heart. And what horror! It was black, twisted and excreting a liquid, of the same colour and consistency as pitch. In a reckless and foolish move, driven by pure curiosity and intrigue, the angler reached forward, pressing his hand into the liquid. The moment he made contact with it, his mind was overwhelmed with the same screaming voice that came from the disfigured fish, but now it was louder, clearer. He could make out what it was saying, understand it. It was commanding him. Commanding him to rise, and the angler obliged. The water trembled, and from the depths rose a monstrosity so immense, it was almost beyond description.

The Abyssal Horror.

Dozens of tentacles emerged from the water, surrounding the small ship. Each tentacle was covered in sharp, jagged blade-like teeth, made of the same slimy black flesh as the fish’s heart, oozing with the same pitch-like substance. The tentacles ranged in size from a few feet to a few hundred feet in length, stretching into the sky, arching over the boat, blocking out the night. The angler stood, looking into the thousands upon thousands of rows of teeth above him. He trembled, but did not scream, as no one was there to hear. He allowed his thoughts to be dissolved by the ever loudening screams of the abyss. He watched as the darkness closed in–both on his mind and body–and the boat was sucked down into the deep.

Through the fog, a few miles east of the bjørgmûnd archipelago, rocked a small, fragile fishing boat. Its front lighting illuminated a few feet in front of it, which created a false sense of security for the angler, who sat perched on the edge of the boat. The cold night air was brisk, but comforting. He held his fishing rod whilst he looked out into the water, as he contemplated why he was here.

The truth was—he was curious.

He had heard the rumours, the old fisherman’s tales of what lurked in these waters, and needed to see for himself. The angler had been told by locals (residents of the fishing village of Hardshore) to “leave the waters alone”. He had noted that they seemed disturbed, the features that make a man human had seemed to have faded, and their fear when talking of the “Abyssal Horror” (as they called it) was almost too real to just be a story to scare children, or the tale of a drunken sailor who saw a whale through the distorted lens of whisky.

And yet despite that—despite the warnings, the red flags— here he was, fishing for answers, fishing for the truth.

The angler felt a tug on the line, and started to reel it in, with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. The hook came out of the water attached to a fish about the size of a trout. At first glance, this fish was an ordinary catch however, on closer inspection, it was anything but. It is, of course, usual for a fish to still be alive when out of the water—but this particular fish seemed to be…undead, as if inhabited by an otherworldly essence. The eyes glowed ghostly green and from underneath the scales, a flesh like substance oozed out, whilst the creature writhed and…screamed? Yes, screamed! It appeared to be screaming, howling in some unknown tongue. The angler cautiously—but with some force—grabbed the fish and bashed onto the deck again and again and again. After the 11th bash, the angler dropped it and stood back—taking a breath. After 5 seconds of silence, observing the battered and beaten fish, he decided it was, and truly, dead.
The encounter had shocked the angler, but had also intrigued him. He used the fishing rod to dig through the remains of the fish, looking for clues as to what caused this poor creature so much pain. He dug through liver, lungs and brain before finding the heart. And what horror! It was black, twisted and excreting a liquid, of the same colour and consistency as pitch. In a reckless and foolish move, driven by pure curiosity and intrigue, the angler reached forward, pressing his hand into the liquid. The moment he made contact with it, his mind was overwhelmed with the same screaming voice that came from the disfigured fish, but now it was louder, clearer. He could make out what it was saying, understand it. Wit was commanding him. Commanding him to rise, and the angler obliged. The water trembled, and from the depths rose a monstrosity so immense, it is beyond description.

The Abyssal Horror.

Dozens of tentacles emerged from the water, surrounding the small ship. Each tentacle was covered in sharp, jagged blade-like teeth, made of the same slimy black flesh as the fish’s heart, oozing with the same pitch-like substance. The tentacles ranged in size from a few feet to a few hundred feet in length, stretching into the sky, arching over the boat, blocking out the night sky. The angler stood, looking into the thousands upon thousands of rows of teeth above him. He trembled, but did not scream, as no one was there to hear. He allowed his thoughts to be dissolved by the ever loudening screams of the abyss. He watched as the darkness closed in–both on his mind and body–and the boat was sucked down into the deep.

taken from the r/spaceengine sub

blackholes are the mouths of a great being.

as humans, we cannot comprehend most of existence, so instead choose to make reasons for it being there or make a false explenation.

once, the universe was entirely matter. then one day, Kaadar took it's first mouthful. And so the first black hole opens. Kadaar is the monster that ravages and consumes our universe, tearing it apart. we call him 'dark matter'. Each mouth he has (of which there are uncountable numbers of) consumes anything nearby, warping it and removing it from existence. even light cannot escape.

eventually Kaadar will eat our universe, until there is nothing but void and his mouths, hungry for more

yes yes, lets move past the 'I like trains' stereotype, but I absolutely adore all things infrastructure. like you could take me on a tour of where energy gets turned to electricity, the power plant, the national grid, all the way to home and i would love it!

is this something all (or most) autistic people experience, or just me?

I was just browsing reddit and found this post New fear unlocked: The Mariana Trench is just a divine graveyard. : r/cosmichorror, which gave me inspiration for this really short piece of creative writing. Written in one sitting, just wanted to share it.

In the depths of the ocean, deeper than humanity have ever gone before, lays the skeleton of a monster beyond the imaginings of a schizophrenic-a Gargantuan.

A dead one.

Gargantuans, being the (allegedly) immortal and immense beings they are, are never encountered (or at least those that have, have never come back).

yet here you are.

presented with one's skeleton

it is at least a half a mile across and god knows how long, the skeleton resembles a humanoid of sorts, although with no appendages.

the skull -shaped like that of a fox- has hollow sockets, where eyes once watched the deep, the empty. the jaw is open, revealing thousands upon thousands of rows of teeth, each sharper than the next.

connected to the skull is the spine (no neck to be seen), which extends beyond view, into the abyss. It bends and twists, warping in ways nature didn't intend.

protruding from the spine, around the upper-centre of the skeleton, is the rib cage. the bones stretch high above the spine, then curving downwards, forming an arch, a tunnel of immense expanse.

to imagine what this corpse once was would be an impossible task, to imagine what killed it... even a God couldn't do that.

hi! new to cosmic horror in general, but do know a bit about it. I want to write a short story (1-5 pages)/piece of creative writing In the cosmic horror genre, but don’t know where to start. Does anyone have suggestions for what kind of story arcs work? I know that I want it to end with the MC dying/failing/going mad, but just don’t quite have a footing to start. Any suggestions welcome :)

I am interested in what you guys tend to do when creating cosmic horror RPGs, do you go heavy narrative, Or lean into mystery/combat? not sure on this one, so wanted to give it an ask