some pictures for possible inspiration

you forgot drunken master

and the crazy junkie that all ways needs 10 pence, maybe he's making an iron man suit from 10p's

Dead eyed young prostitute that can summon horrific shoggoth style monstrosities which represent her mental turmoil?

Dog guy: he thinks he is a dog, but really is a werewolf.

>>14418487

>>14418525
currently drawfagging something up.
Will post if it doesn't totally disgust me.

I'm imagining her familiars, as I'm starting to call them, bear resemblance to things that caused her severe trauma, like a particularly violent client, or a parent or something. They're basically animate shadows that blend together. Like a s\platter of ink with teeth and claws and eyes.

>>14418592
op here, considering I couldn't properly trace a stick figure, any drawing would be fanfuckingtastic.

Nothing to contribute, but this thread makes me think of Night breed.

>>14417993

OP, its not necessarily magical, but here's a real life experience to give you some ideas.

In Toronto there's this homeless woman no one fucks with. Literally no one. The police outright deny any encounters with her, missions and homeless shelters want nothing to do with her and other hobos... well, I heard this first from a friend and confirmed with one of the homeless guys around where I live.

When I asked him about the homeless woman who screams, his initial reaction was to bug the fuck out, grabbing all his shit and getting ready to run. It took a couple of tallboys and pointing out that it was the middle of the day to get him to calm down. He cracks a can and downs the whole thing right there. And he tells me about her. I'm the only person he's ever told, because he's afraid talking about her will summon her or some shit. Toronto's homeless RUN from her. When they hear her scream, this bloodcurdling, echoing shriek, they pack up and run. They are all terrified of her and the thing is, they don't know why. They hear it and just book it. The dude told me the one time he heard it, he swore he saw the rats leave the alley he was in. Didn't know there were that many rats in that part of town. (this could be embellished, he was well into the second tallboy)

>>14418795

But I don't think so. Last year I was walking this girl home on Queen West and we heard the scream. She froze and looked at me, completely terrified. /tg/, I have never been so afraid in my life. I got caught in a shootout up by Jane and Finch as a kid, hung from a safety rope 150 feet above ground in the Rockies and I have never been this scared before. This scream was so terrifyingly human... it sounded like pain, rage, loss and madness physically tearing through her vocal chords. This was the kind of scream that birthed stories of banshees and broke formations of hardened warriors. It was a scream out of humanity's dark, primal past, before language, when communication was a matter of emotion, not words.

I looked at the girl with me and said, "Where's your house? Go! Run!" She didn't need any encouragement. Her nails dug.into my arm and I guess she really liked me because she dragged my crippled ass back to her place.

Scariest night of my life, /tg/ Not at all supernatural or magical. Just plain human fucking scary. I never saw her and that made it so much worse

The Junkie: His fingers replaced by needles, his blood is a potent and highly toxic substance. Covered in a filthy hospital gown and forever looking for his next fix, he appears out of dark alleyways to kidnap, inject, and feed upon victims.

Chains: A runaway goth girl turned vagrant, she's been accumulating metal to protect herself. Cast-off, rusted junk has slowly affixed itself to her skin, and she's always found gathering scraps. Her body causes these metals to slowly rust away, and she can consciously increase this rusting. Always announced by the jingle jingle jingle of the rusted, broken chains she ties to her arms.

Norman: A man, deathly pale and nearly spherical, it's amazing that he's managed to stay so large while living on the streets. He'll eat nearly anything, and his mouth has grown into a great, yawning void to show this. Rats, trash, and even people fall victim to his endless, moaning hunger

The Vet: A trim, neat elderly man, wearing worn and graying hospital scrubs, augmented by layers of blankets and cloth. He's always seen carrying a little black bag, which he uses to 'fix up' his fellow homeless. He sees them all as pets, beloved to him, and the last thing he wants to do is let somebody put poor Rover down.

Nobody mentioned gypsies yet?

>>14418839

>>14419364
I retort with pic related

Sounds more like a superhero game that a horror game.

>>14419364
baali vampires freak me right the fuck out. storyteller in a crossover WoD game had us go up against one and my son of aether had a conniption when he seen it's lair. when we actually found the thing it turned out to be a 12 yo boy, who ended up killing the werewolf in our party and possessing the hunter. luckily SCIENCE won the day and i now have the thing's head as a trophy.

though the storyteller makes me roll random willpower checks from time to time when i'm back in the lab. i think the head is trying to corrupt me.

>>14418839
>>14417993

This thread has convinced me that /tg/ could probably write the story and setting of a co-op horror game that kicks the everloving shit out of L4D.

>>14418839
THIS is why I love /tg/, we have the best writefags.

>Phone number on OP's pic has the 806 area code
>I live in 806 area code

>>14419479
>>14419485
Not to be an annoying tripfag plastering his shit all over, but here's a few more places to take some inspiration from. From a DRYH thread describing the horrible, horrible shit I've done to my players.

New game running tomorrow, as well. I've already terrified players with the character sheets and announcements. I'm hoping to hospitalize at least one of them through panic attacks.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/14394648/

>>14418839
reminds me of The Suffering

>>14419417
It's a rather difficult balance. The idea is that there are some people that learn how to control their innate powers and there are those that don't learn. Some of the negative triggers, like addiction, psychosis just create a destructive spiral. The source of the power itself is unclear. In fact, some people deal with it a very scientific way. Others deal with it in a very esoteric manner. The right answer is whatever keeps you sane and alive.

>>14417993

Puppet: He's the crazy bearded hippy guy in sneakers that look more like sandals, with an enormous beard and a terrible smell to go with it. He's paranoid, he's hiding from "The Man", and he's constantly calling those who won't listen "sheep" or "puppets". Don't look too long into his eyes though, or look down his throat when he's screaming in your face or pay too much attention to what's dripping out of his ears. Don't, whatever you do, listen to the sound.. that wriggling, scratching, crawling sound that gets louder the closer he steps. If you're close enough to see his skin start to lift as patterns of movement form beneath it, you should be running.


Dog Guy: He's never without his trusted companion, his faithful canine friend. His partner doesn't judge him, doesn't look down on him, he's always there to keep him warm. His bark warns of danger, his nose smells out the freshest food from the dumpster. All he asks in return, for his companionship, his strength, his cunning and instinct.. is just for one night of shame, and a few months of bearing his litter. That's not much to ask. Not much at all. You won't even mind that your anatomy isn't exactly equipped for it.

>>14419570

>Dog Guy

OH GOD WHAT.

>>14419485

Well, we DO have professional authors post here.

>>14417993

"His Box": It's sat there for years. Maybe decades. No-one likes to talk about it, the large pile of cardboard boxes and plastic bags, trash and bones and corrugated metal. It's grown though, it definitely has. They say that years ago it was just one box, but the box has got bigger.. it's swallowed up the alley. Swallowed up the light and the warmth of it, even the smell. It's opening, a cave of dehydrated paper wrappings and sickly sweet moulds, is almost enticing. You can't see into it, but a gust of wind flows through it, into it. You hear it travel for a long time.. his box is deep. It has sat for a long time, longer than anyone remembers. It was once just one box, but now it is something more. It calls to you. It whispers of treasure, of a clean blanket or dry magazines and newspaper. A freshly discarded meal, lipstick stains on a polystyrene cup, needles filled with escape. It lingers in your mind and grows fat. The opening is just big enough, just big enough for you to fit. And it's so warm.. so warm inside it. You want to be inside it. You need to be inside it.

>>14418365
Short change- has telekinetic control over coins and loose change. Shooting pennies at people, forming them around his skin like armor. Attracts loose change and floor cash like a magnet, yet can never seem to gather more than $50 in change at a time. He hoards a large amount in an unknowm location and mutters about making 'them' pay once h's gathered enough, whatever that means

>>14419624

You heard me.

kind of reminds me of an idea I started work on years ago, where the seemingly everyday is actually the adapted form of many magical creatures.

Black Engulfer; it may appear to you to be nothing more than an empty garbage bag blowing across the road, but in reality it is a creature that feeds by wrapping itself around its victims and waiting for them to rot inside of it. Black engulfers take awhile to digest larger prey items, so may often be seen filled to the point of bursting.
White engulfer: smallest of the engulfers, primarily feeds on smaller prey items and have been known to swarm.
Green engulfer: mostly harmless, prefers to feed on already decaying plant or animal matter.
Kelpie-cycle: a distant relation of the kelpie, it takes the shape of a bicycle simply sitting in the street, unlocked and ready to be taken for a ride. The last ride of your life. It forces the rider to pedal until they die of exhaustion.
something bats (i forget what I named them); take the form of shoes dangling over telephone lines when they are at rest.

Sorry <Thread> but someone got here first.

> Bird lady- Feeds birds at the park, can control an entire flock to do her bidding.

HAPPENS IN THE BOOK AS DESCRIBED

Also.. it's very good.

The Busker is the guitar playing brother. The one in the well-patched suit, black as his skin, dark as his soul. Some say he's just some crazy old blues artist who's down on his luck. Some say he's Robert Johnson reborn, collecting the souls of the living to pay for what he sold the devil all those years ago. All I know is, if I hear slow acoustic blues coming from a lonely street corner, I run the other way.

the panhandler - constantly coming up with increasingly outlandish stories for why he needs your loose change. god help you if you refuse him....

>>14419719
I ain't even mad. It's all context and use. Extreme strength, telekenesis, among other powers have been done over and over. As mentioned in >>14419512 it's about mindset. The coping is as important as the power itself.

Trashcan Fire Trapper- Demon that hides in trashcans on cold days, first to protect itself from ice and cold (it is weak to them) second to lure in hobos for sustenance. Given away by the slight smell of burning flesh near a trash fire.

Lamp-post Angler- Giant Anglerfish-style creature that can swim through sewers and concrete like water. Its angler-bauble looks like a lamp-post near an open manhole.

Sewer Clown- Fuck, do I even need to describe it?

The Timekeeper. Keeps at least a dozen grimy old pocket watches on his person, still ticking, all on different times. Always muttering about being late. You could have sworn he's walked past you at least a few times...

>this thread

The shopping Cart Demon-
that strange metalic clanging stuttering sound reaches your ears first, then the sharp sound of cheap plastic wheels scraping and jolting quickly over the pavements. Suddenly she shoots by you in a flash, screaming with wide eyed joy. Before you know it she's lurched out of sight , tipping over at an almost impossbile angle as she rounds the corner, almost falling out.
Cross between biker and crazy cat lady, she has the abilit to turn any shopping cart, any grocery trolley into a turbo charged vehicle. Does she push with her legs? well sometimes, but however she gets the carts to move she races through the streets and malls at breakneck speed as cops and secuirty guards give chase.
Dressed in dirt biker leathers and a pair of cracked swimming goggles to cover her eyes, she usually can be found with cheap booze in her vehicle of choice, often stolen. She also carries a number of trolley lock keys and coins on strings, so she can 'hotwire' any trolley that needs a deposit. Give her a few cans of something alcoholic and she'll take you anywhere fast, as long as you don't mind her terrifying 'driving'.

This needs to be made into a WOD splat.

Homeless: The homeless.

>>14419960
bone gnawers, orphan mages, and fomorii EVERYWHERE.

>>14419960
Unrelated to this game I had been working on a homeless mortal game of nWoD we dubbed Hobo: the Panhandling
this was about a year ago, never ran it

rolled 8 = 8

Little Match Girl- This unfortunate girl has the power to generate flames by draining the heat from her own body, causign her to always feel cold, and in extreme cases even causing hypothermia.

Unfortunately, she doesn't understand this, and usually creates fires to make her feel warmer, all the while killing herself by draining her bodyheat.

A flock of hobos, each with the ability to sacrifice themselves for the group. The one to do this shall be set ablaze by divine fire and vanquish any foe daring to threaten him or his flock. Before dawn, his own flames shall consume him, leaving naught but cold ash. Not even the memory remains of the martyr, even his flock will forget. They don't know they have this ability, but when the time has come, one of them will do it instinctively.

this sounds like a rather interesting idea for some urban fantasy a whole slew of bizarreness

How do you hide a monstrosity like the ones in this thread?

You corner it in an blind alley, then board up the exit. Sign it with the magical runes of graffiti, then the buildings around will grow a patina of concrete over the windows, preventing anyone from noticing the trapped horror.

Until the building contractors realize there's a back alley there and they foolishly open it up, no one will even notice the roars and screams of the prisoner.

Its like they never existed, alley and all.

the dealer - this guy always has whatever your fix is. at first it's free or cheap. eventually as you "need" it more and more the price gets higher and higher till he has you. when he has you you are effectively his slave....

>>14420179
How is this any different than real life?

>>14420179
He should make your body into more drugs.

Crazy paranoid tin foil hat guy:lives his normal life talking about crazy shit, then he takes the tin foil off, a tar like substance leaks from a scar in his head creating a gelatinous like monster that he controls. He cant control if the tar leaks out or not he just knows it can be stopped by tin foil.

rolled 50 = 50

>>14420043


I think this is relevant, or perhaps I am mistaken...

hey OP, you need these guys:
http://wiki.lspace.org/wiki/Canting_Crew

There's this one weird homeless guy on Valencia street named Swan. he was a vietnam vet, apparently saw a ton of combat. he loves pigeons. he begs for old bread to feed them, and usually is tending a mob of them. but most disgustingly, he tends to keep them in his pockets and pants, nursing wounded ones back to health. We used to joke that if he ripped open his filthy trenchcoat, there'd be no flesh under it, just a ribcage with a flock of diseased pigeons , seething in between the ribs.
Oh also, disturbingly, he periodically prints up some sheets of "poetry" to try and sell for a buck or two each. if you read them, you realize he is a rather outspoken advocate of man boy love.
This person really exists.Pic related.

The gambler: a simple game of chance is what he asks to play, with his ragged trench coat and under shirts, to his jeans that have obviously been worn for years.He drags people in with words of kindness then asks to play. if you win, he says the person will have the best day of of their life(and they will, assuming they win). if you lose.... well we'll get to that. He puts a small ball under 1 of 3 identical cups he proceeds to shuffle them around. the "customer" choices the wrong cup. the gambler looks them dead in the eye their soul slowly becoming tied. the customer looks away, they feel drained. they look back at the gambler he seems younger and it appears he smells better, not only that his clothing seem to be patched up now, and his eyes glow with power. his shadow forms the shape of what you can describe as a demon, and it scares them away.

>>14420350
I know who my new Malkavian is going to be!

The Captain. He clothes in about the same tatters as his fellows but you never see him without an old sailor cap. You can find him down by the docks. He never strays too far from the water. Says, he could not leave his mates alone. Not in the heat of summer nor the freezing winters. He's always there, just like the sea. When the sun sets he would sing the old shanties and walk 'round the quay.
Though he seems to be alone and rather defenseless, no one was ever seen messing with him. They say if you listen to his song for long enough it sounds like there was more than one voice singing.

wow, this thread had a much better response than i thought it would. stay excellent /tg/.

also, anyone feel inspired to draw anything from here?

Gypsie fortune teller witch. Because there always is one in every game.

Also, read the old man's story from Kafka on the Shore.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/14417993/

This had to be done. BTW, what was the old man's story in Kafka on the Shore? It's a while since I read the book.

The game is already set in motion.Quite a bit of this will be put to good use. i have a crazy militant group hunting the homeless mages,a righteous order of magic hobo protectors, and a fake self-help guru turning people into magically-powered monsters. Just working on how to manifest powers for players, if at all.

and here's a creepy picture.

how about a guy who carries around a life-size doll in his shopping cart, talks to it, feeds it, once in a while people swear it moved on its own.

King

King is lord of all he sees. He is the ruler of the world; he is the emperor of ice cream. King has rules and expectations and you must obey them. And you will, for some reason you do not quite understand. The other hobos seem to do this out of reflex, and indeed, he seems to be the lynchpin of their communities. He may not give many orders, but his orders are obeyed, and many things find their way to his regal ears.

Woe to those who defy his divine will, who dare even suggest at an insult to his person. King inspires a maddening fear as his ire is roused, and his heartbeat is that heartbeat of the city. As long as you are in his domain, you are within his reach.

Hunted

Hunted is a master of the ways. Hobosign is his native language, and he recalls with childlike affection all the railways, trails and creeks across the country -- even those he has never seen before. Hunted has a supernatural sense of directions and locations; the road is his lawn, the train is his home.

Still, Hunted is forever followed by something. Whatever this dark being is, it is slow but relentless. It never sleeps and never negotiates. It is terrifying to behold, yet most people cannot perceive it as it lumbers by. Even if its quarry points it out to them they find it difficult to comprehend, and forget it afterwards.

Hunted always knows where the Hunter is. And the Hunter is always hot on the heels of Hunted.

Bridge Dweller

Nobody is ever quite sure where the Bridge Dweller came from, or even when he was born. Only that he lived in a bridge in downtown Los Angeles. He always says that the city is his only partner, and that the city loves him. Woe betide those who would hurt him bad, for the city of Los Angeles will deliver bad luck your way. First it may start as a traffic jam or other minor incidents. But then when you always keep ending up in the seedy part of town, or the drug dealers get you on their hit list by mistake, the only way to get rid of this curse is to apologize to the Bridge Dweller, or get out of LA and never return.

this must be saved

Man on the corner - When following someone he is always able to keep pace (at the next corner etc) with and track of their target. The target never puts 2 and 2 together that it's the same old guy following him where ever he goes, "he's just another hobo"