This is a thread for posting ideas for Geister. I'll kick us off with a bit of a description:
The Corpse That Bloomed
A man sits at a small round table next to the window of a cafe, typing on a laptop. He is in profile against the outside world, which is fuzzy through the glass. A coffee cub sits on the table next to the laptop, gently steaming. His hair is dark, short-cut and scruffy and a pair of wires lead to earbuds in his ears. A ropy, discolored patch rings his throat.
Behind the man stands a humanoid figure. Its body is a tangle of vines and thorns wound about a bleached skeleton. Its innards are concealed by innumerable rose blossoms, forming a soft and irregular skin. The skull gleams white among the red, grinning where a head ought to be. Lilies bloom in the eye sockets. Below the waist it's humanoid shape loses definition, and the legs are only vaguely separate. It sinks roots into the vinyl floor and leans forward attentively. A hand is outstretched, pointing at the screen over the man's shoulder, seemingly as to comment on whatever the man is writing.
The Corpse That Bloomed is a Geist of lost love and bittersweet memory. Its Keys are Passion and Stigmata. The former is born directly from its connection to love and grief, but it cannot recall the source of the latter. If one were to touch it one would find that its crimson colour comes not from the natural pigment of roses but rather from a thin coating of blood on the petals, which are the white of bleached bones beneath their sanguine pigment. The Corpse remembers nothing of its life besides emotion - feeling is all it is.
When calm it is relatively personable as Geister go, even capable of holding a human-like conversation. If its emotions are roused, however, it becomes entirely fixated upon them. If it sees a beautiful person - male or female - it will sing their praises for days (or at least until it sees someone else it can attach its affections to) and if it is angered it will rave and rant, demanding that its Bound destroy the object of its wrath immediately.
The Corpse That Bloomed
A man sits at a small round table next to the window of a cafe, typing on a laptop. He is in profile against the outside world, which is fuzzy through the glass. A coffee cub sits on the table next to the laptop, gently steaming. His hair is dark, short-cut and scruffy and a pair of wires lead to earbuds in his ears. A ropy, discolored patch rings his throat.
Behind the man stands a humanoid figure. Its body is a tangle of vines and thorns wound about a bleached skeleton. Its innards are concealed by innumerable rose blossoms, forming a soft and irregular skin. The skull gleams white among the red, grinning where a head ought to be. Lilies bloom in the eye sockets. Below the waist it's humanoid shape loses definition, and the legs are only vaguely separate. It sinks roots into the vinyl floor and leans forward attentively. A hand is outstretched, pointing at the screen over the man's shoulder, seemingly as to comment on whatever the man is writing.
The Corpse That Bloomed is a Geist of lost love and bittersweet memory. Its Keys are Passion and Stigmata. The former is born directly from its connection to love and grief, but it cannot recall the source of the latter. If one were to touch it one would find that its crimson colour comes not from the natural pigment of roses but rather from a thin coating of blood on the petals, which are the white of bleached bones beneath their sanguine pigment. The Corpse remembers nothing of its life besides emotion - feeling is all it is.
When calm it is relatively personable as Geister go, even capable of holding a human-like conversation. If its emotions are roused, however, it becomes entirely fixated upon them. If it sees a beautiful person - male or female - it will sing their praises for days (or at least until it sees someone else it can attach its affections to) and if it is angered it will rave and rant, demanding that its Bound destroy the object of its wrath immediately.
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