Wednesday, December 21, 2022

Lumpen Peebles, my character in an upcoming D&D PvP stream

 I'm going to be in a Christmas-themed PvP D&D 5e one-shot on Lost Caravan on January 6th.  My character is a miner ~~earth~~ coal genasi bard in the college of creation 3 / runechild sorcerer 6 named Lumpen Peebles (nay / none / nix / nix / noneself pronouns).  To whet everyone's appetites (and just cuz Lumpen's been in my head for a few weeks now XD ), I wrote up a short little piece of flash fiction about none ~ lemme know what you think!


Lumpen Peebles's voice was a smoker's scratch, deep and rumbling, peppered with sharp snaps muffled as if by distance.  It was impossible to discern whether those snaps were like the flaking of mica on a titanic scale, portions of mountains succumbing to their own weight and lack of support, or embers dancing their popping, jumping dance.  Many who hear nix words wince in empathy for the pain talking like that would cause an organic throat.


"Bob Cratchett wasn't a guilty man," nay said.  "He didn't ask Ebenezer for a piece of coal because he thought of himself as naughty, nor did Mr. Scrooge deny him for some imagined nicehood.  Bob was merely cold, and poor, and reliant on a rich man's gifts to stave off the chill which marks the deepest ring of Hell where Dante placed the betrayers.  The fruit of my flesh ~"


Nay broke off a chunk of coal from nix elbow and placed it among a small pool of the matte black powder that had settled on the table from nix breath.


"~ for three centuries had been a prized gift.  You know who thinks of coal as a punitive disappointment?  People with an expectation of a warm house on Christmas Day and no need to filth themself with the business of heating it.  The naughty once received ashes, and switches cut from springy stingy birch.  I and my whole family were honored workers among all the North Pole's syndics, standing beside the reindeerfolk teamsters and the elfin craftsmen.  We were proud to do the work Santa asked us to do so long ago."


A flick of a heavy finger sent the lump on the table skidding in your direction before the genasi's forearm caught a grief-weighted cheek.  The word NAUGHT *[sic]* burned like banked embers on Lumpen's forehead as nay loosed a soot-heavy sigh.


"It is a mercy, indeed, to punish the naughty with a warmed house rather than a tree-borne threat, but mercy is no gift.  Gifts are free.  This mercy comes at a cost.  I am that cost, and my family (though they won't say so) are that cost, and so too are those who still wish for a warmed house from Santa every year for Christmas."


Tuesday, November 15, 2022

Transgender Awareness Week at the Horror Writers Association

 Two days ago, the Horror Writers Association posted a blogpost written by me to kick off their Transgender Awareness Week series of posts!


It's about the horror we face in and from the world, and how the horror we read/write saves us from it.  You should read it!

Friday, November 11, 2022

I return to Broken Nights tomorrow!

 

TOMORROW at noon PST is my triumphant return to Broken Nights, the City of Mist #CityofMist actual-play stream on TTRP Theater! I am humbled to be on such a glory of channel 

Tune in to enjoy me playing my activist witch empowered by Ursula from The Little Mermaid (who is the best Disney princess; there will be no counterargument) at https://twitch.tv/ttrp_theater

Thursday, October 13, 2022

Fast Times at Teind High

 

Welcome to the teen sex horror genre.

👻 Horrifying metaphors for adolescence!
👽 Themes of alienation and difference!
🧛 The struggle to grow up with little to no idea of what that means!
🐺 High school. In the worst possible way: high school.

If you’re interested in exploring the specific damage done to people when their past is stolen from them, this Monsterhearts game is for you. Being told that you are something new is violence, scarring away your future by hiding away your history.

Sign up at https://startplaying.games/adventure/cl6pmmql500010gjxd7p10yk2 !

Wednesday, October 12, 2022

Like All Who Live, We Eat Death: the Halloween TTRPG

 A couple of days ago, the Horror Writers Association posted a blogpost I wrote for its Halloween Haunts series of blogposts.  You should check it out if you're interested in:

--Queer community

--The narrative design of TTRPG mechanics

--Explorations of costume v. core identity

--TTRPGs that don't use dice or cards

--Legacies of death

--Unseating cisheterocentrism from our understanding of ancestry


Leave a comment there, if it catches your interest to do so!  Just use this link:  https://horror.org/halloween-haunts-like-all-that-lives-we-eat-death-the-ttrpg-by-emily-flummox/

Saturday, September 17, 2022

Broken Nights episode 3

 


You still have time to catch up on Broken Nights before our THIRD EPISODE today in only TWO HOURS.

Watch episode 2 at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DRJdUAw8MEg

and then tune into TTRP Theater at https://twich.tv/ttrp_theater

Thursday, September 8, 2022

New Paid Game: Fast Times at Teind High




In ONLY ONE WEEK, I will begin running a paid campaign of Buried Without Ceremony's wonder of a ttrpg, Monsterhearts 2.


If you’re interested in exploring the specific damage done to people when their past is stolen from them, this Monsterhearts game is for you. Being told that you are something new is violence, scarring away your future by hiding away your history.

Every monster ~ vampires, werewolves, even robots ~ have hundreds of years of history that have been hidden from them. From you. And without that history, you cannot understand what you are or what you are becoming. There are simply no models for you to believe that you have a future, so what does it matter? No one ever teaches you how to be an adult. They just punish you for not having figured it out yet.

What comes of you when no one around you accepts you, or worse: when everyone except you accepts what you are?

Though often repeated by those who would have you believe they are your allies, the gaslighting of historyless newness turns you into a weapon against yourself. Even their support of you hurts, because they have convinced you to deny yourself that support.

If human you cannot be, then a monster you must become.

Seats are only $25 each (if marginalization affects your ability to pay, we will work something out, as I have a dedication to access pricing). Sign up at https://startplaying.games/adventure/cl6pmmql500010gjxd7p10yk2

Monday, September 5, 2022

Thank you, Horror Writers Association!

 Omigawdz, I am SO PROUD to have been awarded a Diversity Grant by the Horror Writers Association.


My fellow Diversity Grantees include:
Chinaza Eziaghighala
Naching T. Kassa
Ian Muneshwar
&
Meemee Taylor

Expect this to fuel many a convention visit, as well as my prose fiction, my #ttrpg writing, & a return to poetry

https://horror.org/2022-horror-writers-hwa-scholarships-announced/?fbclid=IwAR1jHvdiY0kC6elDIMmv_nDiqhjFY6YvyGdE66d97a3UnT1O813-bZSJ5t4

Sunday, September 4, 2022

My first convention with BUSINESS CARDS wtf?









Chicago Worldcon 2022 has been so fun!  While my Beloved moderates hir last panel, here's a bunch of pictures from all three previous days!

We met up with two of the more exciting celebrity types here ~ LEGENDARY kink/erotic speculative fiction writer/publisher Cecilia Tan and award-winning Nigerian speculative fiction writer Oghenechovwe D. Ekpeki, and made sure to get photographic proof!  SQUEEEE

Wednesday, August 31, 2022

Three Aoqinwa Realms

Here's a quick description of three out of the twenty realms in one region of my sensual psychedelic mythopoeia D&D(/etc.) setting, the continent of Aoqina:


Furthest west, there's the human nation of Orvad. Humans are one of the youngest lineages in the setting, formed a few centuries back when a gnoll tribe attempted to excise all the domesticated, obedient, tame things about themselves. Only hyenas and humans left the site of the ritual; it's assumed that humans got all the things they were trying to shed. In Orvad, the humans developed the idea that, if they were bound to be obedient, freedom could only come from choosing to whom & for how long they would obey. It is thus a nation of lawyers, mercenaries, & laborers that deeply values both excellence (to justify a better price for their servitude) & negotiation (to get it). Even the Orvadu ruler is technically bound by a contract, only it is held by the populace as a whole.


Orvad borders the land of Natsiyaasim, which was founded by the grandson of the archangel of the Dawn, son of the king of a nation far to the south. His father was the last one to die in the Ttoi War on the shores of the Hemeya Sea where the minotaurs once ruled and where the minotaurs once drowned. Imye was born from blood mixed with tears and gestated in the dust of the earth, & when he was imprisoned, 7 angels left the Heavens to free him with the pleasures of their body. The Asimar of Natsiyaasim follow "Love as thou wilt" as their highest law.


To the southeast of Natsiyaasim is the Holbytla peninsula, home to the halfling Holy Holbytlano Empire. Descended from the Gnomic Dynasty that once ruled the dwarfs, the rulers of the HHE have largely forsaken military ways (tho they still have an army), seeking instead to conquer with marriage instead of swords. They also see themselves as food for the gods & life as the process of cooking themselves. When a halfling is fully cooked, they are often sacrificed to make sure they don't spoil 

Friday, August 26, 2022

Stellar Sea Dogs finale



 THIS SATURN'S DAY at 3pm PDT, come witness the finale of the magical-girls three-shot I've been in with some pretty amazing folx. We're raising money for a pretty rad nonprofit fighting for First Nations lifeways in Canada AND THERE'S ADORABLE ALIEN PUPPERS.

Monday, August 22, 2022

Shoujo-noir Thirsty Sword Lesbians




 Do you like Thirsty Sword Lesbians? Did you know that my very first professional DMing campaign was a campaign of Thirsty Sword Lesbians?


Well, it was! And it's still running! AND YOU CAN STILL JOIN cuz there are two seats left!

Shoujo-noir action full of heart in a transfeminist-separatist city starving under sanctions from their former nation!

Use the heart of those who love as your duelling blade!

Mob mothers leveraging the freedom from consequences in the afterlife to clean up their organizations and strike against their enemies!

Fight patriarchal propaganda as it sneaks its way in!

Feed the hungry!

Seats are $20 each, and I have a personal dedication to access pricing, so if marginalization affects your ability to afford a seat, lemme know and we can work something out! Sign up at: https://startplaying.games/adventure/62a26a38783f83c95197f7e7

Saturday, August 20, 2022

A rather philosophical paid game offering


 


Did y'all know that I'm running a World of Darkness campaign that is all about the transition from Dark Ages: Fae to Changeling: the Dreaming?

Drawing on the theories of rewilding philosophy & pagan/polytheist anti-capitalism, this game will ask what deals with the devil wonder must make when humanity changes its relationship with the world outside the cities it has built. In the face of a rising tide of disenchantment that will make of the world merely a treasure pile of resources to be exploited, divinities must find a way to maintain themself or succumb to capitalism's spell.
But is that possible? Can freedom be found as fairy tale, rather than fairy? Or does existence myth and story make of you merely another resource, another product the powerful can sell to entrench their power?
You can ask these questions with me at https://startplaying.games/adventure/62c7b4ae6f8a5f220b78bad0 ~ seats are $25 each, and I have a personal dedication to access pricing, so if marginalization affects your ability to pay, just lemme know and we will work something out!

Friday, August 19, 2022

NEW paid game offering ~ Monsterhearts 2!




I'll be running a campaign of Buried Without Ceremony's glory of a messy teen sex horror #ttrpg Monsterhearts 2. Think Jennifer's Body, the Faculty, Twilight, Buffy, Ginger Snaps, Vampire Diaries, and The Craft.

If you’re interested in exploring the specific damage done to people when their past is stolen from them, this Monsterhearts game is for you. Being told that you are something new is violence, scarring away your future by hiding away your history.

Every monster ~ vampires, werewolves, even robots ~ have hundreds of years of history that have been hidden from them. From you. And without that history, you cannot understand what you are or what you are becoming. There are simply no models for you to believe that you have a future, so what does it matter? No one ever teaches you how to be an adult. They just punish you for not having figured it out yet.

What comes of you when no one around you accepts you, or worse: when everyone except you accepts what you are?

Though often repeated by those who would have you believe they are your allies, the gaslighting of historyless newness turns you into a weapon against yourself. Even their support of you hurts, because they have convinced you to deny yourself that support.

If human you cannot be, then a monster you must become.

Sign up at https://startplaying.games/adventure/cl6pmmql500010gjxd7p10yk2

Thursday, August 18, 2022

Superhero noir empowered by literary characters? LET'S GOOOOO


 

Omigawdz, y'all, his is a stream I'm SUPER EXCITE to play! 


TTRP Theater has quickly emerged as one of my absolute favorite streaming channels with its wide array of wondrous games (Werewolf: the Apocalypse, the One Ring, Star Trek, Kult, the best damn Sabbat game of Vampire: the Masquerade I've ever seen ~ so many I'ven't even been able to watch them all!), complete with dreams of being on one of their shows. 


WELL, NOW I AM, BITCHES. 


This Saturday, August 20th @ noon PDT, my activist neighborhood witch, Vanessa Milstead, who spends her time giving the voices of the rich and powerful to the poor and powerless so they can finally be heard for once will begin exploring why the City hurts so fucking much with a team of fellow Rifts played by UK-based transgender news podcast What The Trans?, Vienna-based musician Chris Uboh, and others, with the inestimable Cthulhu Kid GMing! Even just the character creation process has been a helluva lotta fun!

Monday, July 18, 2022

New paid World of Darkness chronicle!

 Starting THIS FRIDAY, I'll be running a paid game of Dark Ages: Fae, exploring the Shattering of the Fae.   


You will have before you the means to save the wild & alien fae with whom humans must deal as sovereign equals, but to do so you must tame them, must make of them mere stories, subject to the whims and ideas of humanity.  


Do you champion the Changeling Way, or do you face a noble and disenchanting death?  This melancholic, philosophical tragedy is only $25 a seat!  Sign up at https://startplaying.games/adventure/62c7b4ae6f8a5f220b78bad0

Sunday, June 19, 2022

The hobgoblin ancestor of storms (D&D 5th edition)

As always, I am deeply indebted to my patrons Lys, Keeper, Dave, Ferny, Diana, and Alan, who keep me going <3 If you would like to join their number, please become my patron on Patreon.

The deserts in the southwest of the continent called Vesbuddji Balwas by the halflings play home to an empire of hobgoblins known as Dokhgham.  (Use the stats of a hobgoblin from the Feywild from Unearthed Arcana #77 for the inhabitants of Dokhgham.)  Even distant Aoqina sings the praises of the Dokhghamtchyim for inventing gunpowder.  Centuries after they did so, the dwarfs of Mwieva Dwesgu Esblasna on the other side of the continent developed alchemical techniques to transform it into fire-rouge.  These techniques required adding the strange red dust that gives the Bloody Coast its name into hobgoblin-derived recipes for gunpowder.

Though an empire sits at the head of the hobgoblin realm of Dokhgham, it is ruled in truth by a coalition of artisans' guilds, the most powerful of which can trace their ancestries back to the first Emanations into this world of the divine entities they call the Ayom.  It is the way of these guilds ~ known as "izishokh" in their language ~ noble children leave their family home at five to seven years of age to attend kalmakkhatchi, schools where they receive rigorous religious and military training.  The khalmakkh tie together the military, political and sacred hierarchies of the empire.  Particularly talented (or connected) commoner children are able to attend them as well, rather than the zalvozkhavii that educate other members of their class.  Such commoners are destined to join the clergy, while their noble classmates might find careers on the battlefield, in the temple, in the courts of the powerful, or even two or three of those.  The commoners and particularly unfortunate noble youths who attend a zalvozkhaviz receive military training but are precluded from the higher ranks of power.

The khalmakkhatch is the students' home for the duration of their training, and they receive instruction in songs, rituals, reading and writing, the calendar, and more.  While a hobgoblin's guild and family are the primary means by which they identify themself and their place in society, the khalmakkhatch they attend is almost as powerful an identifier.  Indeed, while most khalmakkh are operated by a single guild, it is the rare khalmakkhatch that welcomes not only students but teachers from multiple guilds that has often served as the basis for imperial unity and internal diplomacy.

Let me tell you about one such, the Khalmakkhatch Tchitchami Makhyilaikhtchmi, the School of the Five-Times-Twenty Stances.  Our story starts approximately 1100 years ago, with the first Dokhghamtchyitim to ever make a deal with the entity known as the Storm Lord.

Otchangowozi

The Zozghi Izishokhatch (Guild of Hammers) began as the guild for stonemasons, carpenters, and architects.  The Emanation known as Vizaz had gathered the earliest members of the Zozghi Izishokhatch to build homes for all the hobgoblins who gathered around and with those Emanations to found the great nation of Dokhgham.  In the process, the izishokhatch invented not just architecture, but the arts of smithing and sculpture as well.  All good things are destined to end, however, and evil did indeed come to bedevil the young empire, as another of the Emanations (named Angyozom) became corrupted by and gave himself over to Vaimadmanga (Destiny, the mechanistic force that marks the material world as distinct from the spiritual realm of the Vladoma).

The heavy matter of the world thus found a divinely generative force, and monsters began to spew from the place where the Emanations emanated.  These monsters ran through the settlements the Zozghi Izishokhatch had built, laying waste to house after house, toppling sculpture after sculpture, and killing good forges with coldness.  One of Vizaz's followers, by the name of Khyozi, proposed that the very same skills which the izishokhatch used to build homes could be used to protect those homes.  Khyozi proposed building a giant wall, which the Zozghi Izishokhatch did, and to this day this wall stands strong, if scarred, against the hordes of Angyozom's monsters.  To this day, because of that wall, Angyozom can only menace the empire with a trickle of sneaky horrors, rather than a flood.

This is not the Vladoma; it is the fallen world, governed by Vaimadmanga, and Vaimadmanga ensures that all things will know death.  Vizaz knew death, in time, leaving only his son to rule.  He had sired his son upon a far-flying dragon whose sapphire scales rippled with stories of distant Scarhas and who flew far, indeed, after giving birth.  Vizaz never saw her again, but took joy in his sapphire-dragonborn son, whom he named Khaashozi Vizaz Otchangowozi, instead.

Dragonborn are rare in Dokhgham, of course, and the young boy spent many hours as he grew in legendary debates with Zoghtchiz, the draconic Emanation who had invented the art of tattooing and founded the Vadghi Izishokhatch (the Guild of Needles).

It is common for tchamodai (the ruling caste) to undertake a journey upon coming of age so that they may learn who they are without supervision.  On Otchangowozi's journey, he encountered an old warrior in a desolate expanse of desert and, in his youthful arrogance, compared his young life quite favorably to the elder's.  The word for "decrepit" was used.  The elder challenged Otchangowozi upon all his honor to defeat death as the elder himself had failed to do, and then breathed his last breath.

Otchangowozi consulted with Zoghtchiz about how to meet this challenge, and soon found himself dangling from a mountain peak during a storm.  He knew little of why, other than that the wise one had suggested it.  Struck and battered, the winds and rain crashing and cutting at his skin for three days and nights, Otchangowozi endured until finally a massive eel-like creature with white clouds concealing the majority of its form and eyes glowing with golden light appeared before him.  Calling itself merely "the Storm Lord", it showed Otchangowozi its favor, strengthening his body and soul.  

When the tchamodaiz returned to more mundane ~ and drier ~ ways, the heir to the zaimyozi Zozghi Izishokhtching ("lord of the Guild of Hammers") studied the stories of the fallen champions this great beast had claimed, stretching back through all the many years before the Emanations had come.  Otchangowizi had already taken a paladin oath of the watchers, as was even in that early year common among his guild, but to that training he added bardic practices, founding the college of harbingers in his guild's lands. *

Many years later, the desert plain where Otchangowozi met the aged warrior held the buried scrolls of the dongizom Otchido, describing the techniques he called the Hundred Stances.  In time, a tchamodaiz Khamalm Izishokhtching (a member of the ruling caste of the Guild of Masques) found these scrolls and founded the Kalmakkhatch Tchitchami Makhyilaikhtchmi; after it was destroyed, a tchamodaiz Khadalatch Izishokhtching (a member of the ruling caste of the Guild of Horns) repeated the process, and it is this second Kalmakkhatch Tchitchami Makhyilaikhtchmi that stands today. 

NEXT WEEK:  The sacred artifact weapons of Otchangowozi, still in use in Dokhgham and a reference to a Panic! At The Disco song

*  I stole both the bardic college of harbingers, and the Storm Lord as warlock patron, gleefully from Genuine Fantasy Press's excellent Compendium of Forgotten Secrets: Awakening.  At the time of his death, Otchangowozi was a sapphire dragonborn bard in the college of harbingers 9/great weapon fighting paladin who took an oath of the watchers 11.