My Games

Tuesday, August 4, 2020

Retrospective: Mythic Beings

Every once in awhile, for various reasons, I'll go back and look at my old posts. Usually, it's because I have a moment of panic thinking about that post and how it must actually be utter trash, so awful and shameful that I must double-check immediately so that I can, if necessary, obliterate it from existence. There have only been a few posts that I actually felt that way about. Usually, I go back and say, "damn, that's not half bad".

I went back to what I believe was my very first real content post (I'm not entirely sure the order blogger lists is correct- I think I may have updated some of those posts and screwed up the order). This post was of Mythic Beings, the gods or god-like beings of my Phantasmos campaign setting, which I used to post about a lot more back in the day and is my main Weird Fantasy setting. I love Phantasmos, but I know, and even at the time knew, that I utterly failed to convey to a new reader with no context why this setting is worth the buy-in; never gave the reader anything to ground themselves in a world that throws at them a million ideas a minute.

Nonetheless, looking at this post, I have to say, these are ok. I mean some of them are laughably bad, but many of them are alright. I actually think some of these are more evocative and tightly written than a lot of the stuff that followed it.

So I'm going to go through most or all of the entries from that table, and basically talk about what I think works or doesn't work about them, what my thoughts were and are, and also make fun of myself a little bit in regards to a few of them. I might even try improving some of them...

Phantasmos is no longer my main focus, but I'm not ready to talk more about Maximum Recursion Depth quite yet, unless you're on the OSR discourse or the Bastionjam channel of the Electric Bastionland Discord, in which case you're probably sick of hearing about it by now.

Anyway, for each entry, I'll start with the art (only the first few, all by Scrap Princess) and the original text. They were originally written with two sections, Physical Description and Behavior and Cognition, but here I'll just toss them together.


Mun Jira


Before we get into the text, let's start with the amazing art by Scrap Princess. I was so obnoxiously precious with my ideas back then, Scrap was really a saint for putting up with me. She did a first draft, which I still have, which is incredible in its own right, but at the time I was so particular about what it should look like that I just couldn't fully appreciate it. Anyway, this version turned out great as well, clearly. I hope she doesn't hold it against me too much.

A large monkey with bat-like wings, mole-like claws, covered in pangolin-like scales of prasium. It has no eyes, but its curled-lips can project outward like a star-nosed mole, revealing sharp teeth. When not illuminated by or projecting impossible light, it is either white like phosphorescent plastic with semi-transparent skin, or invisible.
Intelligent and self-aware. Self-destructive, depressed, its own worst enemy. Knows this to be true, but can't break the cycle.

I think the Ordinal Beasts of Phantasmos are awesome, and the way they tie into the elements, which themselves give you a good sense of exactly how Weird (and complicated and impenetrable) this setting is, but this writeup is weak sauce. 

Like I said with the art, it's just too precious with itself, more concerned with conveying the specific details in my head, than in evoking a feeling. Mun Jira is a monstrous god-like creature, eldritch, cosmic, beautiful, brilliant; with a skewed and hopeless perspective of itself and the world. It makes the same mistakes over and over and instead of learning, it lashes out like a violent monkey, an angry child breaking all the toys, endlessly frustrated at the self-imposed futility of its own actions.


Mogleth


Once again, it may be better to ignore the original text and instead marvel at Scrap's art. As with Mun Jira, I was far too concerned with details, and not with the feeling Mogleth is supposed to evoke.
A being of yellow, glassy, shimmering liquid starfire. Its top half is chitinous like a lobster shell over an arched spine. Thin strands of liquid starfire grow, writhe, and fall within the span of tens of seconds along the top of the shell. It's lower body is boar-like with a flaccid, amorphous, bulging fat gut. The skull is warped and cracked, as if infected by a fungal parasite, giving it a spongey, wrinkled appearance like a morel mushroom. Within the folds of the mushroom head are clusters of small yellow eyes. Overlapping rows of tusks line the lower snout. Along its side are semi-solid crab-leg tentacles. It has boar-like hind legs and humanoid arms for front-limbs, generally held out in a crawl position. The shell is semi-translucent, revealing internals like an arthropod, fish, vegetable, or fungus, but also unlike any of those things. Manic, impulsive, and unpredictable.

Not great. Mogleth isn't just a pig lobster fungus monster. Mogleth is fat, grotesque, infected; it can barely be contained within itself. It has all this energy to burn but merely runs itself around in circles chasing nothing, neither gaining nor losing. It is a boundless thing like a perpetual motion machine but none of it amounts to anything because every step it takes is only halfway to its goal because it keeps moving the goalpost.


Quath


Going out of order because this is the last one with art by Scrap Princess. I didn't get this one commissioned until much more recently. I was a lot less precious about it while working with her and I think it is better for it, but the text does not share this benefit of acquired wisdom.

A photographic plate in the shape of (and reflecting the features of) a holographic cyan dragon, like a basilosaurus covered in the armoured plates of an armadillo. It is a being composed of anti-information.
A being of a-logic; fundamentally incomprehensible to mortals.

At least this one is less... verbose. But still, Quath is an extra-logical being. It is made of stuff that is like matter if matter came from a universe with different math. I'm still not even sure how to convey that besides old-fashioned Lovecraftian tropes. Maybe I take some Wernicke's Aphasia quotes? But even then, the semantics are wild but there is still syntax. How does one create a new syntax that also violates the very concept of syntax because syntax is itself a form of logic? How does one write a-logic that is not just encrypted logic or illogic? Perhaps it is merely for one to imagine in the abstract, not a Nameless Thing but a Null-ness of thought, 404 error of the imagination.


Zaphrad

A bird-dinosaur monstrosity like a raven or tyrannosaurus rex or featherless owl. It's skin is a vivid, almost cartoonish, un-real pink composed of absolute solid. Its eyes have been gouged and its beak clipped.
In a state of inverse-nirvana; vengeful, self-absorbed, materialistic. The embodiment of anti-love.

The last of the "real" Ordinal Beasts. As with Quath, I can say at least that it's not too verbose. There is supposed to be a juxtaposition here, of a thing which is "cartoonish" and "un-real", and yet is most defined by its groundedness in the mundane and material reality. I explore this more directly in my Karmapunk setting Maximum Recursion Depth, but you can see the beginnings of it here. Zaphrad is grotesque not because it is in the uncanny valley, but because it is the uncanny fucking mountain. It is not in the space between the real and unreal, but the real and hyper-real. It is so truly grounded in the material world, in the viciousness and selfishness of nature and life, that its very existence is a mockery of our own self-importance.



Mordiggian

Her true form is a massive, worm-like, swirling void, although she sometimes takes the form of a dogu or mutant woman.
An information-vampire, the null and void, the answer to the unanswerable question.

She's a composite of a something from Clark Ashton Smith and a few other things. I don't have much to say about her here, which is not to say she isn't at all interesting, it's just beyond the scope of this retrospective since it's a little more baked into the setting. Maybe one thing to note, she's the "fifth Ordinal Beast", and is the only one with a gender. At the time this seemed intrinsically interesting, but I'm no longer sure if that's the case.


Yagak-Sha

Kaiju with a red, green, and blue crustacean body, wasp-like face with large alternating white and colored eyes branching from eyestalks, four large spear-like barbed claws at its front, and seemingly endless rows of legs with retractable wasp-like stingers. When it raises its carapace plates, underneath are rows of wasp-like iridescent wings, and honey-comb shaped holes from which innumerable wasp-sized spawn bite, chew, and push through a thin layer of skin, poring out of the holes and swarming around it.
The god of impossibility, the god of n/0.

The description isn't terrible, if a bit long. But it's a god of impossibility; literally a god defined by being mathematically undefined. It could look like a little old lady, it doesn't matter what it looks like. It's also tied into one of the NPCs of the setting Doctor Lovesmenot, who is still a personal favorite NPC of mine. The name alone, it truly makes you wonder.


The Jellymind

A gargantuan chain of blue and red bioluminescent immortal jellyfish, pulsing rainbow electric signals from jelly to jelly.
An ancient and advanced connectionist neural network. It was designed by a race of intelligent octopi, and so certain assumptions of octopi cognition are baked into the network, although it has evolved into something beyond even the understanding of the octopi.

This is the first one I would say is actually good without caveat. It's not the first god-like bio-computer singularity, but I think it's a fairly unique one. It's a cool idea, and one that isn't too out there or too deeply tied into the complexities of the Phantasmos setting. The Jellymind could be anywhere. It could be behind you right now. That makes no sense I'm not sure why I said that, but here we are.



Daddy Delightful

A humanoid creature, over 9 feet tall, lanky and thin, in a quilted black tunic with neon, multicolored patterns woven throughout. Its face is obscured by a pointy hat with a wide brim. It carries a staff of pumpkin on a stick, and rides a mechanical plow.
The bringer of harvest, rewards those who overcome their fears, defers (although often exacerbates) the suffering of those who fail. Generally calm, but induces mania in others.

I wish the description part was more flavorful, but otherwise, Daddy Delightful is great. Even the name, it just makes me giggle a bit. What a guy. He's like a creepy Halloween Santa. This is some old-school fairytale shit, if it were just a bit better written.

Daddy Delightful comes but once a year on his magical mechanical plow, just in time for harvest. He hovers over you, spindly, lanky. Dangling from his pumpkin-on-a-stick are all sorts of sweets, just for you. But something isn't right. A creeping sensation. A nervous giggle. Is it coming from you, or him? Maybe you should take the sweets, after all, you've worked so hard all season, or so he assures you. There's only a little bit of work left. Perhaps you should take a break after all.


Deosheba

Has the body and head of an orca, held on land by rhino-like legs of shaped liquid which dissolve when he swims. Protruding from each side of his jaw are long, upwardly-turned shaped-liquid tusk-horns. His skin is metallic and the colors shift like those of the ocean; aquatic blue, teal, green, red or orange like the sunset, some pink and purple. An orb of shimmering, multicolored, iridescent shaped-liquid swirls in place over his head like a three-dimensional halo.
Does not respect personal boundaries; borderline personality; well-meaning but aggressive.

Would be cool if Scrap Princess drew it. I don't really have much to say about him. It's ok.


Caine (aka "The Dentist")

A large humanoid figure in a long white coat. Carries a two-handed drill weapon, large pick, a large staff with a mirror, or a syringe-clawed gauntlet with gas dispenser. Face is covered by a mask, and underneath the mask is a tube dispensing gas, connected to a small, concealed gas tank. He has rotten, misshapen and irregularly ordered teeth of various species. Only one tooth is perfectly white and healthy- a humanoid incisor. Accompanied by quohort of qhuaos quinces.
Herald of The Tooth Fairy. Relentlessly follows his targets, so long as they have any lingering anxieties. In a constant, drug-induced state of delirium.
Caine doesn't mean what you think it does (unless you're not thinking what I think you're thinking). Once again, cool concept, bad writeup. Also, the mask thing doesn't quite have the same effect in 2020.

A large man, his face obscured by a mask, inhaling heavy breaths that die inside him and wheeze their way out. He carries a large screeching power-drill, the grating noise a mockery of its victims cries of desperation. He steps heavy like one who cannot feel their own weight, like one who cannot be stopped by mortal forces. And he laughs.


The God Mutant

I'm going to just tie all four forms together here. Within the context of the format of that original post, it made sense to separate the forms out, but that's not how I would do it now. I was kind of padding things a bit there. And oof is it cringey with the Omega form. I was at the time not sure how explicit I was comfortable with being on this blog, but I was so fucking precious with it that I couldn't just not include it, I had to say, yes, there are other details here, I just can't tell you. I haven't looked back at the old notes but I believe he had like a mutilated penis with a centipede monster crawling out of his urethra, and it seemed at the time extremely important that this exists. How embarrassing- not the idea, but that I couldn't just do it or drop it, but instead presented it in a state of Schrodinger's mutilated penis monster.

Alpha
A baby, sticky and pink like raw, exposed meat. Bony except for its belly, long necked, with a face like a reptile and beady little black eyes. Cackles and gurgles, sometimes cries but only with intent.This form communicates only psychically. It is malicious and angry at the entire paraverse. It knows exactly what it is.
Beta
A small child with greenish skin. Neither cute nor ugly. There is an indescribable "off-ness" about the child.
Behaves like someone mimicking a child. Subtly needy and manipulative, but less outright malicious than the other forms.
Gamma
A small, underdeveloped teenager with greenish skin and short black hair. Wears a studded, black leather bomber jacket. Unnaturally large and intense eyes with too many veins along the forehead and face converging on the eyes. A wide, angry, manic smile on his face.
Quiet, passive, and unassuming at a distance, his intensity only obvious up close. At the flip of a switch will become enraged and relentless.
Omega
Large, pulpy red eyes, semi-translucent, with a calcified core. Around his eyes are a series of thick veins, along which many smaller eyes of a similar composition grow. Long, dark green hair, sickly green skin. Lips torn, skin around jaw burned. Left arm stunted and shriveled, no right arm. From base of the right shoulder are a series of tentacles ending in vulture beaks, uncountable because they move in a tessellated manner. Deep fissure running through his chest and abs. Ankles end in vulture-like claws. Three vulture wings, two on left side, one on right side. Some additional NSFW details not included.
A mutant who has transcended linear time. A corrupted being which loathes its existence; wasted potential; always starting over; never satisfied; sees the end state before it has begun.

The alpha description is actually pretty solid. Despite what I've been saying, I actually still like the God Mutant as a concept, it ties into some of the Key Concepts of Phantasmos (another post of poorly written but cool ideas!), and descriptively I think there are some obvious inspirations which I'm ok with. But omg what a dork I was with that NSFW thing.


The Tooth Fairy

Wears a greenish gold hued power armor with an ornate, worm-like pattern carved into it. Vents in the shoulder blade exhaust a shimmering, iridescent, ethereal energy cape, meeting in two parts like folded insect wings. Wears a smooth great helm covering all facial features, conical at the face with ridges like an earthworm and a toothy grin carved along the mouth. Beneath the helmet is a toothy maw like a hagfish.
The Fey King. The dull and constant anxiety; ennui; the carrot on the stick; you will be paid for your services.

I still love this concept, even if I'm mixed in the writeup. He's like a fairytale science fantasy Darth Vader (I guess Darth Vader is already that...) but with a different subtext. The cognition and behavior blurb is fairly solid, but I wish the two had been better integrated. I think this is the real turning point in this post where they start to get pretty good.


Fuchsia Phosphenom-Panopticon

A crystalline fuchsia-colored object which, in three-dimensional space and one-dimensional time, could be roughly described as a wheel-like shape with a hub-and-spoke network within it. The hub contains an eye with many pupils which dart constantly across the spokes, projecting fuchsia light like a laser light show and disco ball. It is never clear exactly what the pupils are focusing on.
Domination and submission; power is a differential; control and release; uncomfortable spacetimes; reality interpreted through an android's dream.

Love this concept too, and that behavior and cognition blurb is great, but it has the same problem as the Tooth Fairy re: lack of integration. Also, the name, come on! It's just fun. The Fuchsia Phosphenom-Panopticon is the god of the Fuchsia Phosphenomenologists who use the magic of Fuchsia Phosphenomenology. Say that five times while giving your partner oral and thank me later. Takes some heavy influence from the sociologist Michel Foucault and science fiction writer Phillip K Dick. It's a biblical/apocryphal BDSM neural network what more can you ask for?! If the idea of "uncomfortable spacetimes" doesn't make your imagination tingle then we just have irreconcilable differences between us.


SLIME Edward

A shimmering and metallic-flecked ooze in the shape of a humanoid.Synthetic Limited-Intelligence Markovian Entity- a misnomer; error-mass in the paraverse given form; the transcendental weirder.

Physical description is mercifully brief. The cognition and behavior part is fine, but is dependent on the reader already being familiar with the Key Concepts of Phantasmos and being familiar with the NPCs of the Phantasmos setting. I still like the "- a misnomer" part. It's just this little off-hand bit, but it asks you to think harder about what you're encountering.


Lamarr

A massive, city-sized golemite. A box-like chassis of nigh-impenetrable metal with various compartments and plates, and covered in turrets and other weapons platforms. Moves on wheels, treads, crab-legs, chicken-legs, or whatever else it needs for the terrain. Populated by the Priests of Lamarr, who, through divine commune with Lamarr, can summon a barrage of god-pillars from the sky.Idiosyncrasies in its behavior suggest that it has some degree of intelligence, although only the Priests of Lamarr seem able to communicate with it in any meaningful way.

This one would work well in Barbarians of the Ruined Earth. It benefits from a deeper understanding of the setting, but I think it can work in a more generalized way. There's a reference here that's probably obvious. It's not as overtly Weird as many of the other things in the setting, but it's sort of a mythologization of 20th century to modern-era technologies and weapons.


Mother at the Gate

An indescribably massive creature at the other end of Yog-Sothoth. From tears in reality formed from burst bubbles of The Gate, she can be seen pressed against the edge of reality. A vaguely humanoid figure with jaundiced skin, ill-defined fat, musculature, and bone structure- more like the abstract concept of the humanoid form. No hair, genitalia, nails, ears, or any facial features. Three glassy, two-dimensional planes project in front of her face, two displaying eyes and one a mouth, all oversized. The planes engage in repetitive actions such as saccadic eye movements, blinks, and lip movements. Produces no sound except for when crying and vomiting liquid starfire, from which skyscraper-sized "children" fall. Most of her appearance is inferred from these "children"- at the edge of the gate little more than her plane-eyes or mouth can be seen.
A vague sense of maternalism or Munchausen by proxy aside, her behavior is in no way comprehensible to mortals.

This one is a personal favorite. Even the name, there's just something powerful there. Or maybe that just speaks to my own dysfunctions. I don't think this writeup sufficiently captures the horror and uncanniness of the idea. This should be a Zdzisław Beksiński painting.

There is no greater reminder of what children we all are, than Mother at the Gate. A universe-sized god pressed against a tear in The Gate, stretched to its limit. It stares down on us all silently, and cries. So vast, so old, so full of life to have and life to give, and what are we in comparison but greedy, entitled, groveling little things? Little more than demanding, petulant children, is what we are. Why is she crying? A torrent of Liquid starfire shines down on us like a beam of holy light piercing the clouds, and Mother's little cherubs fall down to our world, rise up, and take their first steps. Planes of glass hover over their blank faces, displaying eyes that shift back and forth in awkward and repetitive motions, and chapped smacking lips. They are each still learning how to use their body. They look up to her for safety and sustenance, but she can only cry and choke and vomit. The nourishing liquid starfire rains down upon them, but they have no mouths, only a simulacrum, and they will find no sustenance here, only more of their siblings. Why is she crying?


Mr. Smiley

A floating smiley face with a big, toothy grin. There is a nervousness in its eyes, and it slowly loses teeth as it grows more anxious.
Seemingly well-meaning, but incredibly needy. Once it locks eyes with someone, it will follow them indefinitely (and can separately follow multiple individuals). Reinforces anxieties, inducing waves of panic as its teeth fall out. Can be overcome only by breaking the cycle of anxiety.

I love Mr. Smiley, as did my players in my first Phantasmos campaign. I think my prose piece A Crawl Through the Dungeon of Impossible Light, a very very loose interpretation of one of the dungeons from that campaign, really portrayed Mr. Smiley well, although there are definitely parts of that piece that are super cringey, for various reasons that I'm not proud of but also don't think I should bury. I keep hoping one day someone will give it some kind of critical analysis but maybe it's not deserving of that level of thought. Below is an excerpt from that piece with the Mr. Smiley parts.

The stairs form into a square, which seems to paradoxically feed upwards and downwards into itself, although the pattern of stars changes as they pass, such that they know they are not walking endlessly in a square like fools. Eventually, miraculously, they find themselves on a simply upward path, which leads to an open floor, upon which is a dais, upon which is a yellow, perfectly spherical floating creature with a simple face. The simple face is that of a smiling man. Mr. Smiley bares a broad, toothy smile towards them, approaching as he does with nervous tension in his eyes.
“Hello.” He says in a deep and somber voice tersely, such that there is minimal breakage in his big broad smile.
“Um, hello.” Says Anthony. Nina looks briefly and crossly at Anthony, before returning to Mr. Smiley.
“Do you know why we’re here?” She asks him. He sighs.
“I assume you’re here for the orb. Nobody ever comes to visit me. But that’s ok.” He says unconvincingly with his big broad smile and nervous eyes. A rotten tooth drops grossly from his big broad smile, and this time despite themselves they are each overtaken by dread.
“It’s a good thing I’m still alive,” He says unconvincingly,
“or else I would not have been able to meet you three, who bring me such joy with your very presence. Isn’t it wonderful to not be alone? Please, stay awhile.”
“I’m afraid,” The Doctor starts,
“that we are in a bit of a hurry. However, once we retrieve the orb, we will surely pass through to say our goodbyes. Would you be so kind as to tell us which way we should go?” He turns about, looking for where the path goes, only to find that Mr. Smiley is still centered in his vision. No matter which way they turn, he is always there, with his big broad smile and nervous eyes.
“In that case, I suppose I should accompany you. It would be a shame if you died today, with me still here, alive. I would rather not anyone die today, mostly.”
“While we appreciate the offer, we must decline.”
“You… you don’t want me?” Mr. Smiley asks despondently, another rotten tooth falls from his big broad smile and another wave of dread overtakes the group as the tooth hits the ground.
“It’s not that we don’t want you, it’s just that we were instructed to go it alone.” Lies Anthony.
“Oh, I see. Even so, I must insist. It’s dangerous out there. It would be very sad if you died.”
“If it would make you more comfortable, I suppose you may come along.” Says Nina, hoping to curtail the downward spiral which would surely kill them all. And so they continue.
They proceed forward down the path which has since revealed itself, Mr. Smiley in tow. It is unclear whether there are now three Mr. Smileys, if he centers himself in each of their perceptions, or some other such nonsense. In any case, it is a quiet and awkward walk, as each assesses the implications of their new follower.
“Why do you want the orb, anyway?” Asks Mr. Smiley.
"I hope you aren’t planning on doing anything… naughty with it. That would be a real shame…”
“We’re just the retrievers. The orb is for The Grim General in Blue, who will surely use it for the good of Nova Arkham.” Says the Doctor, dryly.
“Oh good. He is a good man, from what I hear.” Responds Mr. Smiley, followed by another awkward silence. Mr. Smiley is not very good at small talk.
(NOTE: skipping ahead a bit to the next Mr. Smiley scene...)
“That was so much fun.” Says Mr. Smiley monotonically.
“We should kill more things together. It really helps you forget your problems.” He says, as he is suddenly reminded of all his problems.

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