[D&D-5e] Rick Hardcastle's Dimensional Reality Game Show Show

[voodoozombie]

Cat-tastic Basics: Application and The Pre-Screening Interview.

Cupcake's Application Attached picture on application. Application has been changed by Cupcake. Name: Cupcake Age: XXXXXXXX Race: Type: Intelligent Cat (Awaken Cat). Species: Ragdoll Sex: Molly Background: Bard: College of Eloquence Class: Occupation: Lap Cat

Cupcake’s answers to The Pre- Screening Interview.

The answer. The Day Job. [Producers voice in the background, behind the camera trained on Cupcake. ] “What do you do during a regular day in your life? Anything special?” “I do absolutely nothing. My human does everything for me. She feeds me, cleans my litter box, brushes me and pets me all day long. It’s amazing! I just sit around, purr a lot and look cute. Humans are so easy to train.

The answer Show Appeal. [The sound of the producer nervously clearing voice.] “What can you bring to the show? Is there something that will make people want to watch you?” "If you think it’s amazing what people are willing to do anything for me when all I have to do is purr a little and look cute, you should see what happens when I sing songs and tell epic stories. I have people eating out of my hands. Would you like to hear me sing?"

The Pose Appearance. [The sound of the producer muttering something like ]…"What the Hell" and …."Awful noise"… Cupcake sudden strikes a pose for the camera while looking directly into the lens.

The answer Backstory. [Producers voice in background]”As an Intelligent Cat, do you find it hard to fit into society? Is it difficult adjusting to the ways of people? ”Not at all. I have no problems adapting to your society. After all we’ve been with you for 1,000’s of years. Not to mention, my ancestors were worshiped as Gods by humans. Need I say more? “ Cupcake suddenly rolls over and closes her eyes, purring softly. "Now, if you will excuse me, it's nap time." [Producer’s voice, in a whisper.] “Alright everyone. Let’s not disturb her. It looks like we’re done here. That’s a wrap!”

[voodoozombie]

I believe Cupcake is done. If there is anything else I need to do, please let me know.

[ElderOblex]

Alas, I've been thinking about just biting the proverbial bullet and applying for this game, but my concept's probably not cohesive enough to make the deadline. If you need extra contestants in the future, I'd definitely probably audition!

[Chylopan]

I'm going to take the following week to make my decision, just a heads-up to all those who applied!

[Pseudonymous]

It occurred to me that I didn't include a class or race for Hivemind. I've added that to their app, and it's tentatively finished. ("Tentatively" because there's no guarantee I'll be able to find a picture for "trenchcoat full of bees" but the possibility is always there.)

[ElderOblex]

 

Even if this doesn't make the submission cut-off, I had fun writing it!

Fitzpatrryx Basics Fitzpatrryx Race: Alhoon (Custom Lineage) Age: 76 Class: Cleric/Wizard Appearance/Day Job Static screams at the scrying screen for a split-second, before it gives way to an out-of-focus frame. A long, stone surface fills the foreground. A… table? The frame adjusts, sharpening, then zooms in towards a humanoid figure. It seemed to have one limb raised, shadowy digits moving without touching anything. The only light source appears to be bioluminescent fungi, painting the right wall with soft hues of pink and purple. The figure clears its throat; a rough, sandpapery sound. Were those… tentacles? On its head? Braided tentacles. They resembled what would be a handlebar mustache, if the humanoid was human. It was not. A mustache. Nor human. "I-is this thing on? Uhurm. Yes. Hello. Hello! My name is… well… our thralls call me Fitzpatryxx." The figure fidgets, leathery robes and high collar ribbed with what looked like very long phalanges creaking as it moved. It spoke in a thin, almost asthmatic whisper; like cloth being ripped. Cloth that sometimes hissed. "W-well, this is my first audition, in, ah… and I haven't much time. L-let's get to the marrow of the matter, eh?" "A r-routine, you say? Well, down here there's nothing but routine. Weekdays are for foraging, Wednesdays for lab work. Weekends are for… um. F-feeding, and um. S-see, here's the, ah… quandary? Yes. The... dilemma. Yes yes. I belong to a… cult." "Yes, a cult. I live... under... ground. Where it's always dark. We love the dark, you see. And damp. We love damp too." Backstory/Show Appeal "B-but, I don't want to! Not anymore! It's terribly… samey… down here! Everyone wants to… bond… with Elder Brian - he's the big brains behind this whole movement, you see - everyone backstabs or mind blasts or poisons or kidnaps or tortures for advantage, yada yada, rinse and repeat. It's so… so mind-numbing! " The figure stands suddenly, pacing the small room. Various alchemical apparatuses could be seen in the background. The scrying device pans in sync with Fitzpatryxx's movements, and it seems he was controlling it with his fingers. From a distance. "But what if I don't want to bond with the Elder? I just know there's more to life than opening people's skulls and sucking their brains out or implanting larvae into various specimens or dueling another idiot illithid to the death! I-I mean, it was fun for a few decades, but that **** gets old, you know? Oh, sorry, should I edit that out?" "B-but I have a plan. Yes! I shall break free from this repressive prison to pursue my passion! I've only read of other places, other worlds! In books. Some of them have already been burned, since Elder Brian was alerted of my… um… 'erratic behavior.' Bah! Classic cult manipulation, I say!" "No, I shall be free from this place and see the world, deepen my experience, and start my own private practice. To help others like me, you see. Those who have suffered from repression, and mental trauma. They say 'time heals all wounds.' Perhaps that includes psychosomaticosmological maladies, no? Who could say? The world's first alhoon chronomancer, that's who! Y-yes, that's me, you see. I-I know I'm not an expert yet, and my current… addictions-uhurm- present but minor… inconveniences, but I'm starting to get better, I promise! I think… Here, I even made calling cards!" Fitzpatryxx presents a black rectangle of questionable geometry to the screen, displaying a ring of angular, eldritch runes no one with less than four mouth-tentacles would be able to decipher. Muffled screams start in the distance, then are followed by several hissing noises. "Ah! A-As I said, Wednesdays are lab days. I must go with my creed, lest they suspect me again. I've been so careful these past weeks… I hope I can think of another excuse not to consume some poor sap's grey matter again… I know they're sentient creatures, held against their will… But they are so, so nutritious a-and delectable, y-you see… " Fitzpatryxx suddenly started, as if they had forgotten the screen was still on. "OH! H-heh. Hehe. T-that was a joke, yes! Just a joke. I don't… do that… anymore… Well! M-Mr. H-Hardcastle," The illithid struggles to stop stroking its braided tentacles, unable to hide their nervousness. After a few moments, however, they continue with a shaky, toothy smile. "I-if you want a bright, resilient wizard in your award-winning Game Show Show, please consider me! I'm so tired of this unimaginative, life-sucking, anti-fun, creativity-starved, brain-draining, skull-boring existence! I'm sure the Harcastle estate is nothing like that! Just the opposite, I'm-" A hard knock suddenly shocks the auditioner, who turns away then motions toward the scrying screen with a rapid flick of its black-clawed hand. The scrying screen blinks completely black. Back to screaming static.

[Chylopan]

I will be returning from my vacation on Friday. Thereafter, I intend to make selections within the following day or so. I appreciate the patience!

[Onward]

Heck yeah, can't wait to hear the news

[Chylopan]

Invitations are going out TODAY!

Stay tuned.

[Chylopan]

The deed has been done.

Thank you to all who applies. This was harder than I thought. May end up doing multiple groups in the future. Any who desire can be held as backups, just voice it here.

[psuedenim]

Happy to be on standby. For those that made it I hope your deaths are gloriously extravagant!

[Onward]

Dang, I was not chosen for my chance in the limelight. But know this, my half-eldritch abomination character will gladly take a back-up seat and not secretly make attempts on slowly murdering the staff that decided that her presence was a bit too dangerous to their liking.

[voodoozombie]

I too would be more than happy to be a backup!

[WolfHorns]

backup please