Forums » Forum Games » Breaking the fourth wall game

Dndmama paced back and forth from one random bit of glowing sameness to the next and slowly back again. Being out of shape and generally averse to exercise in general, pacing is definitely not Mama's preferred way to pass the time as she waits for her next interview to begin. It is, however, infinitely preferable to trying to get her fat butt down onto the ground or worse yet, up off it again. Since the seemingly endless white expanse of her mind hasn't seen fit to provide her with a chair for whatever reason, pacing will have to suffice.

After a few more passes, Mama finally breaks down and reaches into the pocket of her jeans to check her phone. It doesn't tell her anything. Of course it doesn't tell her anything. She highly doubts there's any sort of proper cell reception in her own head. Yet. Give the major phone companies a few years. I'm sure they'll figure something out. The thought causes her to smirk, and with her smile a chair appears. Well, that's...arbitrary, but she'll take it.

Before she can make it across the few feet to actually utilize this newest addition to the nothingness however, the overweight young woman suddenly discovers the chair is occupied. It hadn't been a moment ago, but somehow between one step and the next there is now a person seated before her. "Chanda..."

Of course. The newest addition to her roster. She waits for a moment, eyebrows raising slightly, but the gorgeous man before her makes no attempt to move. He merely smiles pleasantly at her unfulfilled expectations of him. This is what you get for creating a demon...

After a few more moments, Chanda finally makes a move, crossing his left leg over his right. His long, thin fingers shift slightly within his lap so that he can fiddle with a thick gold ring on his middle finger. "So, you are God. The Creator. Forgive my impertinence, but you don't exactly look the part."

Mama throws her hands in the air, exasperation shattering what little of her patience is left. "Why do all my characters keep commenting on my appearance?!"

"Perhaps because you yourself are not comfortable with it? You don't exactly go around creating overweight puppets with which to play out your fantasies."

"You are not my puppet! And these are stories! Not fantasies! Plot! Character development! It isn't just basic wish fulfillment! It's cooperative story telling and-" Suddenly the woman pauses. She looks more closely into the face of the King of the Crossroads for a moment before finally letting out a long, slow, deliberate sigh. "You're good."

"I know."

"Well, you're here. I'm here. I assume you have some questions. I can't promise to have all the answers though. You're too new for me to know everything just yet." Mama crosses her arms and stares down the twisted soul before her, determined not to let him get the better of her again.

Chanda Rao, creature of darkness and fire, sat in his perfectly tailored suit, fiddling with his finery and considering the woman before him carefully. Those gorgeous peridot eyes practically bored into her soul. "What will you do with me?"

"Tell a story, of course. As for your ultimate fate...well, that hasn't been decided yet." Mama crosses her arms, shifting uncomfortably from side to side as she attempts to answer. Her feet are starting to hurt from standing for so long. "I can't promise you won't suffer. I can't even promise you won't die."

"What can you promise?"

The woman's eyes brows rise and a slow smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. "I can promise you'll fall in love. That's what you were created for, after all."

character 4: elliot bryant
my son

"Ah, someone shorter than me. That's a relief."

"let me see ur cat"

"..How the **** do you know I have a cat?"

"show me him you coward"

"You are testing my ******* patience. Do you want to do that?"

(mine's awfully short compared to everyone else's but writing from my specific point of view is..strange for me? also elliot does have a cat and his name is mozart the cat. like, just yelling for mozart would be weird, so his name is literally mozart the cat.)

...Welp, tine for another one I guess. Apparently this is now my official go-to for when I'm caught up on all my RPs and still want to write, pf~

Also I really wanna' read more of these, so, y'know.

Bump

Edit: This one's gonna take a while.

Ghaurug woke up with a pounding headache and blurry vision. He remembered some kind of magical explosion, then nothing. He certainly wasn't dead, or else he wouldn't be in pain...but where was he? As his vision cleared, he took in a messy room: a large bed, a bookcase, and a dresser both pushed to one side of the room, a spare mattress on the floor made of unfamiliar materials, and clothing and papers strewn about. On one wall hung a scroll depicting two strange figures, one orange and white, and one clad in black armor (perhaps Daedra? But what Daedra looked like that?). And on the bed sat a human, wearing clothes the likes of which he'd never seen. Some sort of grey tunic and soft-looking blue shorts. The human was unremarkable in appearance; he'd passed plenty of Bretons who looked just like them on the street before. In one hand they held a black rectangle, which they were intently focused upon, and occasionally prodding. Next to them on the bed was a small box from which a square of white tissue protruded, and there were several crumpled tissues on the floor around them.

He took this all in very quickly, because moments after he came to, the human noticed him and shrieked, scrambling backwards on the bed and grabbing the box, holding it out like a weapon. Sniffing rather loudly (were they ill?), the human cried, "How did you get in here?!"

Sitting up, Ghaurug rubbed his head and winced. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?" he grumbled. "What is this place?"

The human simply stared at him. Their eyes roamed from his brow, to his tusks, to his armor, down to the weapons on his belt. After a while and a couple more sniffs, they said rather hoarsely, "I don't believe it. Ghaurug? Ghaurug gro-Khazgur? But what..." They trailed off and sneezed into a tissue. "I'm really sorry for what I'm about to say, Ghaurug. You're not going to like it. But I created you."

He sat on the floor, taking his turn to stare at the human. "I've never heard of either Malacath, Molag Bal, or Sithis taking on the avatar of a sick human in a messy room." Groaning quietly, he pushed himself to his feet and put a hand on his sword. "Who are you really? How do you know my name? I demand to know why you've kidnapped me!"

The human eyed his weapons nervously, sniffing a couple times more and coughing. "Keep your blades sheathed, Ghaurug. I'm not talking about your gods, I mean I really created you. You're fictional. You're a character I play as in a video game, for crying out loud!" They took a deep breath. "You'll want answers, yeah? I want some too."

Clearly the human was insane. "What does video game even mean? You're talking nonsense!" Growing angry, he drew his sword and pointed it at the human. "I'm not afraid to hurt you. You're unarmed, and you're ill. You don't stand a chance against me."

Their eyes bugged out at the sight of naked steel. "I-I can prove it! You were abused as a child, you're a vampire, you don't revere the Night Mother, your Sanctuary was purged—tell me what year it is for you and I can tell you more!" Their voice was high-pitched and frantic, clearly full of fear. He could hear their rapid heartbeat. (Sithis, but it was fast.) Were they telling the truth?

He lowered the sword but did not sheathe it. "How do you know those things? I don't recognize you from the Ebon Sun...or the Brotherhood. All right, say I believe you. You created me for a 'video game,' whatever that is. Why bring me here?"

"I didn't," was the answer he was hoping not to hear. "I don't know how you got here either. I was reading this thread on a forum, and..." Suddenly they gasped. "Oh. Ohhhhh. Now I get it. Very clever. Tell me, Ghaurug, in Tamrielic literature is there a concept of the fourth wall?"

(Just gotta say before I start this that it's especially hilarious because Alex is―pretty obviously―a modern fantasy take on myself based on what my 13 year old self thought I'd turn out like and elements of books/movies/shows I was a fan of as a teenager.)

The two Alexes sat across from each other at Alex Silver's home patio. On the table, a bottle of scotch. Both simultaneously pulled out a cigarette, the hunter a black clove which he lit with his zippo, the writer a charcoal filtered he lit with an electric lighter. The ash tray sitting between them with two butts sitting within it and their half-empty glasses revealed they'd been sitting in silence for a bit.

"Okay, still not used to how weird this is here," Scott began. "You're me from another world where you wrote my life story based on what we―as a thirteen year old who watched too much TV and read too many books―thought we'd turn out like?"

Silver couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the question. "It sounds even sillier than it actually is when you put it that way, but yeah; that's essentially the gist of it."

"Alright... questions round then, if you don't mind," Scott'd continue, taking a sip of his drink.

"Shoot."

"What happened to Friedrich in your version?
-Oh, he's still alive. We're just not on speaking terms.
-Whatever for?
-Slept with a girl we were dating.
-No shit... So you don't own the garage, then?
-I barely even own this house.
-Ouch... What about hunting? Are there demons in your world?
-Nope, no such luck.
-How do you keep yourself from getting bored?
-Took on our uncle's bad habits; sleeping around, drinking, smoking... oh, and I write and draw. Videogames help, too.
-Do you have a car?
-Not like the one you have, but yeah.
-Drive stick?
-I'd rather not, but I can manage.
-Hard rock and metal?
-Oh yeah, that didn't change.
-Martial Arts?
-Metal plate in my left hand, legally a weapon so... nope.
-Oh...
-Yeah." The two would pause as Scott absorbed the information Silver had bestowed upon him, and they both took a drag, then a drink.

"Sex life?
-No complaints.
-Romance?
-Still pretty anti-marriage, but I've given dating the occasional try, hasn't hurt too much yet.
-Magic?
-Also not a thing in this world.
-How much do you bench?
-More than I weigh, but not by much.
-...huh..."

Another pause, another puff, another drink.

"Not gonna lie, it doesn't actually sound too bad.
-You'd still rather go back to kicking demons around though, right?
-To be fair, I'd take that over sleeping with Jessica Alba.
-Oh... damn... gonna need to change that.
-What? What happened to Jessica Alba since I was thought up?
-Oh, nothing major just... she's married and has kids so... whole celebrity crush thing just seems weird.
-So who are you into?
-Celebrity-wise?
-Celebrity-wise.
-Nina Dobrev... Jessica Green... Chloe Moretz... Mila Kunis...
-I know none of those...
-Of course you don't; I didn't when I came up with you either.
-God this is so weird... wait, what about our shows?
-Supernatural's still a thing, otherwise we started watching a ton of different stuff from 2011 onward.
-I'm not even gonna ask who died.
-Good idea, list is long.
-Bowie?
-Yup.
-Yup."

The rest of the night continued similarly.

(rolly rolly, gimme a character, dice)

edit: a big honking dragon, nice. this should get interesting-