NevelioKrejall

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  • 33 Comments
Joined 1 year ago
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Cake day: July 13th, 2023

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  • I get that OC can mean lots of things, but I think most people in this thread are willfully misunderstanding you because of preconceived biases about original characters being ‘childish.’

    I will instead attempt to engage in good faith. Here is an original character I conceived for a Star Control D&D game I ran. Archivist Ryll Archivist Ryll (pictured at right) is an Yllk who joined the crew after they performed a mission to help him study an anomalous neutron star. He is pragmatic and cheerful, and always game to help out, but dislikes authority figures. He lost his rear legs in an accident involving IDF (interdimensional fatigue). He is shown here in the epilogue of the campaign in his capacity as archivist, assisting with the official documents as the Alliance of Free Stars signs a formal cease-fire with the VUX Admiralty after the Battle of the Sa-Matra and subsequent dissolution of the Ur-Quan Hierarchy of Battle Thralls.



  • I recognize and sympathize with the energy of this comment. I have also had a medical setback recently that is making it really hard for me to exercise. I had a tumor removed and they took my thyroid out with it, and something is not right with the replacement meds. It is tough to make people understand just how awful it can be to feel exhausted and irritable and confused every single day. What happened to you sucks, and it isn’t fair, and it’s okay to not be okay with it. For what it’s worth, I hope your bone does grow back.





  • I think there are different kinds of violent fantasies. I imagine all kinds of violent stuff in an unrealistic action movie kind of way, with exploding heads and disembowelment and all that (I run D&D games lol). I got worried that I might be dangerous. Then, one time I tried to vividly imagine the actual real world consequences of hurting a real person that I knew, and I couldn’t get any further than imagining the pained, betrayed look on their face before I had to hit the eject button. That brief exercise fucked me up for weeks afterward, but it was pretty reassuring. In the long run. I think I’m the schmuck in the horror movie that chokes when it comes down to actually firing a gun at someone and gets killed for hesitating, and honestly I think I’m okay with that.













  • Hey, this is my exact story, including the undiagnosed ADHD, dropping out of college, the dead-end wage slavery for way too long, and now having a decent paying job that isn’t what I went to school for, but that also doesn’t kill my soul.

    Except: I have an epilogue!

    I still don’t have a degree, but I never stopped practicing my art because I am simply incapable of stopping. It’s what I do. I recently got a side gig that was my absolute unrealistic pie-in-the-sky dream job when I was in college, working for the very creators that inspired me to choose my major in the first place. College wasn’t what got me there. It was passion for the artform, introspection/therapy to develop a more forgiving and accepting attitude toward myself, and sheer perseverance. I spent the first 18 years of my adult life thinking failure and dead ends were all the universe had to offer, but I kept trying anyway (mostly to spite that hostile universe in a ‘fuck you, kill me yourself’ kind of way).

    It’s not over until it’s over. You don’t know how your story ends. Keep trying. If someone says you missed your chance, fuck 'em. They can’t see the future any more clearly than you.