And the guy in the middle is arguably the most powerful SCP in the room. Whenever he is killed, he regenerates a new body to replace the old one, and he also might be host to some even more appalling eldritch abomination.

Hmm.

“Empty”?

What are the mimics disguised as? Floorboards? Lint?

See that little stream — we could walk to it in two minutes. It took the British a month to walk to it — a whole empire walking very slowly, dying in front and pushing forward behind. And another empire walked very slowly backward a few inches a day, leaving the dead like a million bloody rugs. No Europeans will ever do that again in this generation.”

“Why, they’ve only just quit over in Turkey,” said Abe. “And in Morocco —”

“That’s different. This western-front business couldn’t be done again, not for a long time. The young men think they could do it but they couldn’t. They could fight the first Marne again but not this. This took religion and years of plenty and tremendous sureties and the exact relation that existed between the classes. The Russians and Italians weren’t any good on this front. You had to have a whole-souled sentimental equipment going back further than you could remember. You had to remember Christmas, and postcards of the Crown Prince and his fiancée, and little cafés in Valence and beer gardens in Unter den Linden and weddings at the mairie, and going to the Derby, and your grandfather’s whiskers.”

“General Grant invented this kind of battle at Petersburg in sixty- five.”

“No, he didn’t — he just invented mass butchery. This kind of battle was invented by Lewis Carroll and Jules Verne and whoever wrote Undine, and country deacons bowling and marraines in Marseilles and girls seduced in the back lanes of Wurtemburg and Westphalia. Why, this was a love battle — there was a century of middle-class love spent here. This was the last love battle.

–F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night

I feel like Scroll of Immolation could cause an exploding plague that would plausibly wipe out the entire population of anything more than a moderately large city where the population density was high enough.

And of course the traditional sentence for dice which misbehave one too many times.

I know where I came from—but where did all you zombies come from?

So… Pee-wee Herman was a dragon?

I can see the arguments against the concept of evil races. It’s intimately linked with real-world racism about “wrong” groups that “deserve” to be colonized or genocided. Writing the fictional world as being populated by distinct groups that have conflicting cultural motivations is more interesting than “this group is bad because they are bad.”

But… what about demons/devils?

Marcus Miles has entered the chat.

Tiamattaboy/girl/'nother.

Oglaf, Dimorphism

Wasn’t early D&D played with three D6s, because D20s weren’t easily available at the time, and so rolling three sixes would be the equivalent of a natural 20?

I could see how that might be a little alarming to a parent in 1974.

Big John Constantine energy.

Well, you just gotta only allow one archetype per team, figure out a system for the players to draft their choice fairly, and then let the chips fall where they may.

By Odin’s beard, I wish that animated series set in 3008 could have worked out.

Picsart. I’d like something that can do a bit of photo editing, adjust brightness/contrast/curves, work with layers, and conveniently slap together collages, but that doesn’t interrupt me in between every other operation with an ad or a request to sign up for a subscription to the app.