Weaver Dice - Trigger Events
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You always knew you'd get in to tri-Lambda, the fraternity your father went to, but getting it confirmed was a major relief. You've just now started to bond with your brothers-to-be, and you've heard the stories, but you just didn't think the hazing would be THIS bad. You survived the drinking challenges, and the ice-melting, but the final task they've come up with is new this year, and untested. Your brothers get you moderately drunk, and start chucking empty kegs down a long staircase. You are tasked to hop over or under them as you make your way up the stairs, a la original Donkey Kong. Predictably, about thirty seconds later, a whirling keg going connects with your face going ~30mph. You trigger as you pick your cracked and bloodied head off the pavement, your brothers scattering immediately.zipperlessOnce a trigger is used, remove completely from this list, and add to used triggers tab (see bottom of page).

Moronic, joke, and thoughtless triggers aren't as cool as you think they are. They just make everyone's experience less fun, and force us to reroll to get worthwhile stuff.

Sign your work.
You liked the power. During medical school, you were the family's golden child, and girls liked you. You became an oncologist, and you had respect from every non-doctor you knew. But somewhere along the line, you found the work and the emotional cost was starting to outweigh the gains. One white lie became ten, then a hundred, then you lost count. 'You have cancer', you told a perfectly healthy young man. You told it to old women, businessmen, you got a thrill telling it to a politician, watching him lose his hair as you oversaw the chemotherapy, offering your expertise. You told it to a child, and the family's need for you was intense enough to rival the best sex of your life. You pushed it too far, too many patients at once. Someone was told to get a second opinion, you got caught, and instantly became one of the most loathed people around. You trigger as you step out of your office, faced with a crowd of media and the very healthy people you subjected to radiation and chemotherapy, many too sick to even yell, only staring.Wildbow       Please Avoid:
                * Peanut Triggers (Dumb)
                * Dead/maimed child Triggers (Way overdone for a long while)
                * Rape Triggers (Almost always badly done, overdone)
                * Events that would never ever happen or...
                * Contrived/stupid events that'd only happen with powers involved

                * Note classifications below, write triggers to underpopulated
                * Keep Trumps to 1/2 the number of the others.
Always a bit aggressive, you rarely held back and never pulled your punches when someone really deserved it. You always told yourself that they started it, that you were only a bit impulsive, but not really the one to initiate such fights. Then you overdid it - the son of an important man in town crossed your path, and you beat him into a bloody pulp, sending him to the hospital for months. You didn't even get to see his release, as you were arrested. You trigger in court, after all your friends betray you in the witness stand, restrained by the bailiff as the sentence is spoken.VernClassifications:

Keep track of resulting powers & classifications as triggers are removed from list:
Mover: 26
Breaker: 18
Master: 26
Tinker: 19
Shaker: 26
Blaster: 28
Thinker: 22
Striker: 28
Brute: 28
Changer: 25
Trump: 8
Stranger: 18
For the last three days it's been the same. She lets you out into the woods. She catches you again. She breaks something else. It's the fourth day, and you've got one working leg. She says she'll break your back if you can't escape after this round of her "game". You trigger in the forest as she steps into your view.TreeFrogSoup
You studied for this, trained for months cramming your head full of facts and trivia. Now you're in the gameshow's final round, with a million dollars on the line, all or nothing, and you panic. You pick an answer and realize it's stupidly, hilariously wrong a nanosecond after you choose it - a joke answer that was supposed to make things easier. The host says some comforting words, but they turn into background noise, blending in with the dull roar in your ears. All you can think about is how your friends, your family, the entire nation, all saw how stupidly you just threw away 1 million dollars. Trigger.Teller
You were quiet and shy. You didn't bother anybody, nobody bothered you, and that's how you liked it. Your body had different plans, however. You're the first girl in class to start developing, and how - growing out of every bra bought for you, even having to get new shirts. It's awful. The boys ogle and whisper lewd comments, but there are a pair of girls who are worse. They're the popular ones who are used to getting all of the attention, and they've decided you must be punished for having the audacity to hit puberty before them. They overpower you in the locker room and frogmarch you through the halls naked for all to see, 'SLUT' written across your chest in permanent marker. Trigger.Teller
You are riding a bus, listening to a jazz album with your earbuds. In one of the stops, a young man enters, and despite the noise in your ears you manage to notice that the driver is shouting at him for not having enough money to pay. You decide to help the boy (whom you find kind of cute), walk to the driver and pay for the boy. As you step back to your seat, smiling at the boy, he thanks you shyly. You try to keep eye contact with him but he looks away, fiddling with the straps of his school bag. You plug the earbuds back in, sit down, and look out the window. A few minutes pass, and you turn your head again to glance back at him. He seems to be terrified, he's crying, and you can't figure out what you did wrong. As he reaches into his bag, probably to take out something, you instinctively open your own bag to search for tissues to offer him. The moment you touch the tissues, the entire bus violently jolts and your ears are hit with a sharp pain. You are flown ahead, your shoulder hitting the seat in front of you with a loud CRACK, and your head following after. Stunned, your vision is blurry, and your body hurts all over. You hear faint screams in the background, and a constant ringing that doesn't stop. You raise your head, push away the hair from your eyes with bloody hands, and look backwards at the source of the explosion. In the middle of the bus, you see a torn arm, and countless pieces of flesh and guts, strewn around the floor with blood splatters all over. Nothing remains of the boy. With tears in your eyes, you open your clenched fist, and a blood-stained piece of tissue paper falls to the floor. You trigger.Shemetz
"You were never really chill with hunting, but your family is right Southern and shootin's in your blood. At least, that's what your dad always said. You managed to avoid ever really doing much of it. You mostly hung back in the truck while your dad and brothers did the deed and came back with more deer and turkeys than you ever really needed. You're not even sure if anyone in your family *enjoys* the taste of venison. Either way, near your eighteenth birthday your dad decides it's been enough. He hands you his shotgun and sends you off into the woods. You're barely in there ten minutes when you hear a gunshot behind you. You trigger as you fall to the ground, a searing bullet lodged deep into the flesh of your leg."Saff
You need your medication. You know that. The doctors know that. It's not - nobody is denying that. They're just making you beg, like a dog, to give you what you need to keep from feeling like death warmed over. Literally on your knees, your eye twitching, your hands up and pressed together, begging like a fucking dog, because you need it so badly. Fuck this place. God. Fuck. Why did you have to be institutionalized? The doctor takes your daily pill, puts it close to your open palms, and then snaps back, laughing. They're all laughing. Trigger.Nonagon
They were popular, attractive, charming, and insistent. You weren't sure at first - some nagging feeling in the back of your mind - but finally, you decided to go out. It was sunshine and roses for a while, then the real them came out. Vindictive, insulting, petty, controlling. It became too much for you to deal with, and you broke up. They didn't leave you alone, and their friends didn't leave you alone either. Anxiety and fear became your constant companions. The rocks hitting your window in the middle of the night, only for their thrower to scurry away into the darkness. The unsigned notes that you knew were from your ex. No one listened to you - they were more popular than you, by a large margin - so you suffered in silence. Finally, you went to the police/school administration and they told you (not in so many words), to fuck off and stop slandering your ex. Trigger.Nonagon
You grew up in a small, conservative town. You make a few bad decisions, got drunk at a party, and you woke up in bed with some guy. Your first time, wasted. It doesn't feel *good*, but you move on, pretend it never happened, give the guy the brush off. Two weeks later, your period doesn't come. It keeps not coming. You search for clinics, desperate to get rid of this - you're only fifteen - but there aren't any in town, and you're too young to drive yourself. Terrified, trapped, a child growing inside you, ready to turn you into a teen mom, you turn to the internet, looking up household abortificants. After chugging a dose of some toxic brew, you collapse, hoping as you lose consciousness that at least you'll take this damn baby with you. You wake up in the hospital and the nurse tells you, "You're very lucky. You almost lost the baby." Trigger.Nonagon
It was late at night, but you've walked this route before a hundred times, and the cool air of the night is more pleasant on your skin than the warm sun. Some guy up ahead drunkenly calls out to you, but you just press your finger on the 'volume up' button on your mp3 player and ignore him. A couple of his buddies step forward, blocking you off, and there's an implicit threat to it. Very carefully, with an affected calm, you pull an earbud out of your ear, listening to them. "Hey, it's pretty rude to ignore someone, you know," one of them says, and you hear another step up behind you. "I'm sorry, I really need to get home-" you start, but one of them grabs you by the upper arm. Terrified about what will happen, not knowing what they intend, but your escape cut off as the group surrounds you, you trigger.Nonagon
You were mugged, held at gunpoint for long minutes, made to fear for your life, but that's not what made you trigger. No, it was the aftermath. You were afraid to go outside. Seeing a stranger would make your heart pound, memories of that man racing through your head, replaying, bringing the fear back to the forefront. You can't leave your room, and your parents were understanding, at first. The one friend you keep is your cat; the rest slowly begin to see you as what you are: a broken shell of your former self, too anxious to step outside your doors. Even your parents' patience starts to wear thin, on the second or third year of it. Your cat gets sick, and you desperately want to take her to the vet, but you can't manage it on your own. You beg and plead for your parents to do it, but they see it as an opportunity to force you outside. Several times, you manage to open the front door, only to rush back inside, quivering, when some stranger glanced your way. After days of it, trying and failing, the pervasive fear of the outside overwhelming you, you hold your cat close to you, and she's too sick to do anything; she doesn't even meow, just coughs pathetically. You trigger as she dies in your arms.Nonagon
You were burnt alive, but that's not how you triggered. No, you woke up in the hospital, missing three limbs, burn scars running up and down your body, one of your eyes missing, only three fingers on your surviving arm. You managed to pull yourself together well enough, doing physical therapy, learning to work with what you had left. Your physical therapist said you were the most driven patient he'd ever seen. When you were released, you were consigned to a wheelchair, sure, but you can keep on living, even managing on your own. Except all kinds of things that were trivial before, aren't any more. It's embarrassing to have difficulties opening a door *and* going through it at the same time, having to try to get your elbow to hit the controls on your wheelchair while you hold the door open with your hand. Gradually, you isolate yourself, staying at home and ordering food in, sticking to the few tasks that aren't that difficult, or that simply can't be avoided. There's no particular point that's any worse than the rest, but there is the dawning realization that all your hard work has born its fruit, and this is about how you'll live for the rest of your life. You finally trigger when you try and fail to open a container of salsa, accidentally dropping it and sending glass and salsa splattering across your kitchen floor. It's a both a symbol of your inability to perform even the most rudimentary tasks unassisted, and it's going to be a massive chore to clean on your own.Nonagon
You went out camping with your SO, but they turned out to be a bit of a psycho. That's putting it lightly. Apparently they were waiting until you were both alone to 'confront you' about your 'infidelity.' You try to reassure them, tell them that you never cheated on them, but that just sets them off. Maybe it would have been best to wait until after they put away the knife to attempt diplomacy, because they cut open your arm with a wayward slash, and blood is just pouring out. You run, and they follow, shouting after you, tracking you by the long trail of blood you've left behind. It's a really nasty cut, and you can't staunch the bleeding with your hand. Their shouted apologies, begging for you to come back, fall on deaf ears. You don't believe them when they say they're sorry; you're pretty sure that they're going to kill you and hide your body. You can hear the footsteps of your SO, following your circuitous path through the woods, and you know you won't manage to escape, not with this trail of blood you're leaving behind you. Trigger.Nonagon
You're not quite aware when the downward spiral in your life started. The fact that it's mostly mental was probably a big part of that. With your parents financing your education and your doing reasonably well in classes, most people would presumably think that you were doing fine. You know the truth, though. You obediently call your parents every week, but apart from that, you can't recall when you last had any real kind of human contact. In fact, if it weren't for your games, you reckon that you would have killed yourself long ago. Your ups and downs comes from killing bosses in RPGs, and few things can get you down like losing a character, as they are the closest thing you have to friends, nowadays. On some level, you know it's pathetic, but you just can't bring yourself to care. Your days mostly blend into each other, meaningless to you except for the heights you reach in your games. That is, until you are one day hit by a bullet while waiting for the bus, and screaming begins, as a firefight breaks out between rival gangs. Despite being shot, you feel no pain, but as you hear a whizzing sound a fear takes root in your mind, and you desperately grab your beloved [Insert name of handheld game console here], only to see it spark and go up in flames, a bullet falling out of the casing. Even as you hear people panicking and fleeing, your mind is numb with the fact that your cherished Pokémon team, which you spent well over 1000 hours collecting and training, has almost literally going up in flames. Trigger.
It wasn't supposed to be like this! You and three of your friends were supposed to go camping for a few days, nothing more! What happened instead was right out of some book; your car malfunctioned, and when you all got out of it to try and fix it, it suddenly decided to start again. Unfortunately, it was still malfunctioning, only instead of shutting down, it began rolling down the cliff falling over it with all your supplies in it. Since then, you and your friends had tried to get out of this godforsaken forest, but with little in the way of food and no real survival knowledge, it was no surprise that one of you eventually ate something you shouldn't. The consequences for this lack of knowledge are clear to you, as you despondently stare at the grave of your best friend. The headstone is no more than a large piece of bark with name and dates cut into it with a knife one of your other friends happened to have in their backpack. As tears fall down your cheeks, you curse the decision to take this trip. You run a hand over the 'headstone', and collapse entirely on the freshly dug grave. As you choke back a sob, you grimly realize that you and your remaining friends are never going to go home. Trigger.
The less said the better - you knew it was wrong, you knew people would judge, but sometimes you get into something and because it's private and personal, you don't have others to check you or tell you to be careful. You step it up to keep it exciting, and you eventually cross a line. The line you crossed was putting a live eel inside you. It bit you, deep inside, and it tears a hole. Unable to walk, feeling the life drain out of you, you trigger.-Wildbow
There's a little bit of forest you used to go to all the time when you were young, and you still go there when you want a break from the dash of city life. Like all things from your childhood, it seems so much smaller now, and safer. Except not anymore - it turns out a gang's hiding in there, and now you're running madly through the woods as they chase after you, firing their guns whenever they catch sight of you. You daren't go out in the open where you're an easy target, but they're closing in on your position... You trigger as one of them breaks through the brush and fires at you.-pantherasapiens
It's a beautiful day and you and your significant other have decided to get out and you bring the baby with you. You get to the park and start to look for a nice spot for your picnic, getting a bit far in your search. Once you've found the perfect place you go back to get your baby and the rest of the things. And then you discover that your car has dissapeared, with your baby inside. You panic, you try calling the police but you're a mess, the most horrible possibilities going through your mind, you can't even type the number properly. That's when your car come back, stopping right in front of you and an angry vagrant step out, yelling at you, "Who the fuck leave their baby alone in an unlocked car! Who the fuck leave their baby alone! You're an horrible person!". You trigger as realise that he's right and that things could have gone a lot worse by your fault.AceOfSpade
You were born with multiple defects, due to having a junkie bitch of a mother. Your legs never grew to the right height or muscle mass, your left eye never worked, and you were born with HIV. People look at you with pity in their eyes from the get-go, but you finally manage to fit in with a group of misfits. One day, you come clean about having HIV. They all seemed cool with it, at first. Slowly, the phone stops ringing so often. Whole weeks go by without you seeing your friends. You finally confront them. They tell you it's nothing personal, but you skeeve them out. You're gross. Infected. Physical defects they could deal with, but AIDS? You aren't worth the risk. You trigger as they walk past you.SCG
After being treated for your concussion, scrapes, bruises, and having your right earlobe stitched back to your head, you were taking comfort in the fact that finally the bullying was no longer disputable; that your injuries and witnesses meant that hard evidence existed and you wouldn't have to endure further gaslighting and disbelief. In the car on the way home from the hospital, your father informs you that he and your mother agree that you'd brought your injuries on yourself with your standard attention seeking antics, and they will be informing the school and other parents that they will not be pressing charges. You stare out the window and trigger.October
Visiting the country out on your cousins' farm, you tell a joke that they do not care for. You find yourself hogtied, dumped in the pig pen, and left. As you try to free yourself, you are jostled by the largest pig, and wind up with your face down in the mud. With some frantic struggling, you manage to turn your head to the side and clear an airway. Then it starts to rain. Then you start to drown in the puddle your head is stuck in. Then you realize you are dying. Then you trigger. October
You're not sure what the story was, the why or how. Your father was a hero, Hedge, a breaker who fused with his surroundings to turn his surroundings into a jungle of thin pillars and tangled cords. There were strengths and weaknesses to the power, and you saw both at work when you and he were attacked, en route to buy ice cream. He crossed the wrong person, and the two of you get attacked, with you as the apparent primary target. It's actually your first time seeing his power in action, as he raises a virtual jungle around you, emphasizing the pillar growth between the two of you and the attacking parahumans. But for optimal effect, he has to remain in place - the constructions fall as soon as he moves, and while he could merge with the ground and raise them around himself as he skims the road's surface, he couldn't do that and protect you at the same time. He remains there, and sounds eerily calm as he holds a final conversation with you, the pillars glowing red and white with the heat as a laser works its way through them. Your father dies, and in the moment you realize the laser is going to work its way through his chest cavity and destroy you, you trigger. Before the trigger event is even fully underway, you're thinking in terms of your father's power, and how you can use whatever variant of it you end up with.-Wildbow
Broken tooth, you didn't have the money to fix it. Inflammation of the gums - alarming, but nothing special. Fiery red agony and the side of your face swelling to twice the usual size? Alarming enough for you to go to the doctor. In the time it takes you to get there, things rapidly get worse. As it happens, the infection in your jaw paved the way for MRSA. Flesh eating disease. Doctors do what they can, but they're apparently losing the fight. As they prepare for surgery, they give you medication to put you under. As you start to slip away, you hear them talking about just how much of your face they're going to try to remove, to get ahead of the infection. You trigger as the drugs take hold.-Wildbow (Thanks to Thalia)
Your spouse was always a charming person, and they could talk most people into most things. They talked you into taking a lunch to work, so you ate bagged food rather than going to a restaurant with coworkers; it'd save money, let you buy that piece of furniture you wanted, even though it meant you spent less time networking with your coworkers. They talked you into moving cities; it would be a good career move for them, help both of you get more financially secure. They talked you into quitting your job, cutting off your friends, stopping talking to your family. They're your only friend, now, the only person you know in this strange city, and God help you, you love them. They bring it up so casually, when you're lying in bed. Kidnapping someone to keep as a slave. You've been doing what they asked for too long to stop now, or maybe you're just that fucking stupid. You help them. You're honestly shocked when they kill your 'slave' after just a couple days of keeping them in captivity. You're far, far too deep in to back out now. Trapped, betrayed, an accessory to kidnapping and murder, and totally alone, you trigger.Nonagon
You bought a house with your partner, but when your partner died, you weren't able to pay the bills. You took on a renter, dividing the house into two portions, and things seemed to be going smoothly. The rent came in on time, your brief visits showed the place was clean and in order, and the college kid you were renting to was a nice guy, if a little naive. Even when he got sick, his family covered the rent, and things seemed to be okay. You made it a habit to check in, you left his little workshop and study materials alone, and found the place in working order, with no damage. When -you- started to get sick, however, you had to wonder. You had authorities come in to check for toxic molds and the like. You stand outside the place and wait until the people come out, moving rather briskly. You realize what's happened when you hear the device they're holding. Pipipipipipiiippipi. One of those detectors for radiation. Whatever the little idiot was doing in that workshop, he's probably killed you.-Wildbow
You’re into BDSM, and you’ve got a certain pride in it, in being the best sub, never saying no. Your dominant escalated things with you pretty fast, which isn’t much of a surprise, given the degree you leap to obey. They’re sweet and caring, so you don’t mind. Within a few months you’re living with them as a full-time slave; within a year, you’ve stopped leaving the house, wearing a collar at all times, your clothing choices become increasingly restricted until you’re left naked at all times. The two of you moved, to a loft without windows. Cheaper, and more opportunities for play. It maybe started to go a little far when they started lying to you about the day of the week, but you both knew it was a lie, so it wasn’t that big a deal. The point where it really went too far was when you were ordered to wear a blindfold for the better part of a month - you can't exactly keep count - and aren't allowed to speak. When they pull off the blindfold for the first time in weeks, your eyes scream in agony, trying to adjust to the sudden light, and you're *still* too proud to speak, to disobey, in spite of how stupid you know it is. Worried that you're blinded, the weak noises your throat makes automatically making you fear that your vocal chords have atrophied from disuse, you trigger.Nonagon
You grew up knowing only one thing, hate. All you heard, day in and day out was how they were ruining everything, destroying the world. If only they could keep to themselves, all our problems would be gone! Of course you agreed with this, how could you not? It was the only viewpoint you were exposed to. And so you hated them, with a cold fury. You joined the group because of this hatred, knowing full well what it was. You gained their trust, and became one of them. They gave you an opportunity to hit them where it hurt. They gave you a bomb. You walked into the building with it, ready to end the lives of hundreds of them, but... something stopped you. You just couldn't do it. You tried, you really did, but you couldn't find it in you. You called your organization, and told them what happened. That was a bad idea. When he told you to stay put, you could hear it, the hate. You triggered as you fled.ReekWeak
Your parents are hardcore doomsday preppers, spending a significant portion of their salaries on building and maintaining a ramshackle bomb shelter and stock of supplies. Their planning eventually comes in handy, if not in the intended way, when a fire breaks out in the house. You're able to flee into the backyard from your window and secure yourself in the bunker, safe from the flames, as far as you know. Unfortunately, it's not the flames you have to worry about- as your eyes dart around the dim shelter, you realize someone's been living in it- your theory is confirmed when a ratty, scabbed arm wraps itself around your neck, another one plunging a very rusty kitchen knife into your abdomen.Prothean
You and Steve from the office, the guy three doors down, are in an escalating prank war- it helps distract from the tedium of your lives. It started when he refused to turn down his music, so you cut porn audio into all his favorite songs the day he left his computer unlocked at lunch. Things got nasty rapidly, and six months, a few thousand dollars, two relationships, and a lot of sour cream later, you chug your morning cup of coffee, and your face damn near explodes- pure capsaicin poisoning, only he's used much too much of it. You collapse, screaming, trying but failing not to tear at your blistering lips, and you feel it hit your stomach. Every mucous membrane in your body feels like it's being eaten away with acid, and your stomach convulses so hard you start bleeding internally, rapidly. You trigger as you splatter the office carpet with a mouthful of snot, vomit and blood.zipperless
Years and years of preparation, schooling, scheming and schmoozing is all it took to land your competitive dream job. Well, almost land. You've survived a lengthy interview process, and it's down to just three people- but your friend on the inside tells you you're the frontrunner by a mile. You pack a bag and head to New York for the final interview, supremely confident- so confident you take a nap and miss your plane. Screaming and pleading with the woman at the desk, she tell you that there simply is no way you'll be able to make the interview. You know this no-show will lose you the job- Mr. Hardin hates unreliability. You trigger as she tells you to move out of line.zipperless
Your mom just bought a new powerboat, and is taking you wake boarding. You invite your best friend along, thinking this will be a great time. With your mom at the wheels, your friend takes the first turn. The boat makes a tight turn and throws your friend off the board and into the water. Just at that moment, the steering wheel jams. The boat circles around. You try to stop the boat, but you couldn't stop it before the boat runs into your friend. As you reached into the bloodied water to pull your friend onto the boat, you realized that your hand has reached inside a gashing wound in her abdomen. You trigger.fyfsixseven
You and your dad were always close, he was the only person in your life that you felt cared about you. Sadly, he passed away a few years ago, and the only thing you have left to remember him is his wedding ring. You’ve worn it nearly every day since he passed, wearing it as a necklace. Whenever you feel uneasy, you rub the ring and pray to your dad, hoping he is watching over you. One morning you wake up, do your typical morning routine, and go to put on the ring, only to find it missing. You panic, tearing your entire room apart to find it. Your mom comes in after hearing the ruckus, and tries to calm you down, telling you that she will search this entire house for it while she is at school. She rushes you along downstairs, telling you that your sister is giving you a ride to school. You’re still extremely anxious while you ride in the car, chewing your nails, worried you might never find it again. Your sister puts her hand on your arm to comfort you, and you see it. Your ring, sitting right there on her fat, greedy fingers. That bitch must have stolen it! You claw it her hands, trying to get the ring off, and she yells at you, questioning what the hell you are doing. Screaming at her, you let her know just how pissed off you are about the theft. Your sister, obviously seeing that the gig is up, yells about how it isn’t fair for you to have gotten it, she knew dad longer, dad loved her more, etc. In a jealous rage, she pulls off the ring and chucks it out the window. The sudden loss and betrayal you feel is enough to push you to trigger. Empy
You’re mixed race, and it doesn’t play well; a white father and a Sansei mother. The first-generation immigrants and refugees have a completely different cultural background, and take a dim view of your ethnic mix. There’s a feeling of alienation among the white kids, though it takes a different form: being mistaken for a foreigner, having difficulty getting girls. You act out, but it’s a secret from your parents, everyone at school. You hang with some Issei delinquents on the other side of town, drinking, smoking, doing drugs, the occasional act of petty theft or vandalism, miles away from home, while you tell your parents you’re at a friend’s “studying.” There’s a friendship and loyalty that grows, in the camaraderie of criminals. Your new friends actually think you’re pure blooded Japanese, and you tell them you’re Issei too, managing to fake it with what you've picked up over the years. Then it goes wrong. You get busted for public intoxication, along with your pals. Underage drinking, to boot. It’s going well enough, in the drunk tank, until your father comes to pick you up. You can see it coming, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it. “Who the fuck’s that?” One of your friends asks. “I’m his father,” your dad replies, his voice sharp, hard. Trigger as your house of cards collapses utterly.Nonagon
You were out hiking by yourself, a spur-of-the-moment (ie stupid) jaunt, when you slipped, your expensive hiking boots providing no help. Arm broken and leg caught between rocks, you've been staring up at the large rock hanging precariously over you for the last hour. With every movement, the rocks around you shift, and you're sure it will fall before you can free yourself or find help. Trigger as the boulder finally starts moving toward you.Twonk
Your parents have always been so supportive of your endeavors. When you wanted to start that screampunk band with your friends, they provided the garage. When you dropped out of college to open your own record store, they provided the down payment. Now that it's inevitably failed, they've provided your old room to stay in until you're back on your feet. That was four years ago, though, and you're still no closer to having a job than you were when you arrived. One day, they say you're all going on a road trip to a nearby city, to get out of the house. You're happy enough to go along with them, maybe mooch off them to buy some stuff. They pull into an odd looking facility on the way, though, and won't tell you why they're there. Some men in suits escort you into a big, hot studio and suddenly you're under lights, several cameras pointed at you as a TV host announces you're one of the contestants on Man Children from Hell, a new show. You trigger as the host recounts your failures as a son to the laughing studio audience, your parents watching grimly on in the front row.Twonk
You're doing one of those bed isolation experiments for NASA or whoever. It's day thirtysomething of fifty, you've sort of lost track. You're tied down, hardly able to move, with feeding tubes and a rig to handle excretions, but you still managed to piss yourself early on and you've had a horribly painful, itchy rash on your inner thigh for more than a week, hardly letting you sleep. You've found that you can rub your leg against the straps to scratch the itch, and over the last week's it's been the only focus of your thoughts, relentlessly rubbing and rubbing and rubbing until your lag feels aflame with the pain and pleasure of the itch. One night, wide awake and staring at the ceiling, you are startled as two men burst through a door that's been unopened for more than a month, carrying medical equipment. As one undoes your straps, the other peels back the blanket, ripping it off your leg. You finally get to look down to see blood-soaked sheets, horrible welts and cuts all along the inside of both your legs, a yellowish liquid seeping out of the gashes. You can hardly understand what they're saying through the pain and confusion, but you catch a few words - they think they'll need to amputate. Trigger.Twonk
You’re walking home in the dark one night, kinda drunk, when a man walks up to you on an otherwise empty street. He quietly holds a knife up to your gut and asks for your wallet. Judgement failing you, you try to fight back and get the shit thoroughly kicked out of you, stabbed twice in the leg and covered in bruises. You’re not sure how long you’re lying there in the cold, slowly bleeding, but next thing you know there’s a garbage truck coming around the corner, stopping periodically to collect bins. As it gets closer, you realise the garbage men aren’t noticing you in the dark. You can’t get any words out in your state, and though you desperately struggle, your body can’t seem to respond properly to move. Trigger as the truck’s wheels begin to run over your legs.Twonk
It's only your third commercial flight as a co-pilot. Your partner, a cool silver-haired man, can tell that you're nervous. He flashes a grin and tells a few jokes to put you at ease, guiding the bird effortlessly through the takeoff sequence. Nothing to it, he says, with a wink.
A few hours later, and everything goes wrong. The plane is caught in a storm, and the engines start failing one after the other, in quick sequence. You're wigging out, on the verge of a panic attack, but the pilot freaks out to a much larger degree. The stress is too much for his body to handle, and all of a sudden you're alone - the controls of a plane that is falling apart and out of the sky, as well as the lives of 75 passengers, in your incapable hands. Trigger.
You hate the soldiers and what they have done to your village. Once a quiet place, it is now unwilling host to a group of unruly men who drink all the time, take anything and anyone they want, and kill all who speak against them. Your father insists that you stay quiet and keep your head down, so you do.
One evening, soldiers armed with guns kick in the door. They swear that your father has been plotting against them, and reel off a list of things that others have blamed him for - things he could not have possibly done. They beat him in front of you and your family, then haul him up to his knees, bleeding and groaning. They are going to shoot him.
You go beserk. Your weapon is anything within arms reach: First a chair, then a fire poker, and then you seize one of the guns. The fight is a vicious whirlwind, and soldiers fall left and right in the face of your fury. In a fleeting window of lucidity, you see your mother and brother on the ground, dead or dying. You return to the fray, redoubling your efforts to kill them but no longer caring if ther bullets strike you. Trigger.
You are a college athlete. The only reason you are even in this place is because you are that good, and there are rules. A lot of stupid rules. You made a mistake - went out with a friendly sponsor who paid for your food in a restaurant. Apparently that is already enough to lose the sponsorship and be thrown out. You trigger as you receive the letter telling you that your entire future has been taken from you.VereorNox
You and your husband have been trying to get children since forever, until it turns out that he's unable to have children. Eventually, you decide to go and try in vitro fertilizaton from a donor - and everything works out. Fast forward, the child is born, but it doesn't really look like you, not at all. Neither the eyes, nor the hair. Fast forward again, your family doesn't know about the in vitro stuff and when the child grows up it becomes more and more apparent that this isn't your husband's child. It's what you feared - both of your families were a bit traditional in that sense, and your husband's mother would keep whispering that he should finally divorce you if you are 'dried out', so you both never told anyone about the in-vitro thing. You trigger when your mother-in-law confronts you, screaming in front of the entire family that you cheated on her son, the attention of all your and his relatives on you, your husband nowhere nearby to help you.VereorNox
Your sister was always out a bit longer than normal, but your parents didn't mind for some reason. You go after her one day, when she leaves for 'jogging' and eventually end up finding out what was going on. She was a cape - and when you talked to her about it after she got home, she told you to avoid telling anyone else. She had the power to create white constructs over their arms that made her stronger and her arms much bigger without adding much weight to her, looking like brightly lit neon bodybuilder arms. And you grow closer over your shared secret. But she died, one day, shot by some gangbanger on the streets. You trigger one day, after being shoved down the stairs by some idiotic kids in school, hitting your head against the floor and feeling yourself drift away as bright lights explode behind your eyes.
You're a wannabe comedian. A few shows here and there have been quite successful, and eventually get a show on a larger stage with more than two-hundred people watching, and you invited your SO and their sister as well. It starts well, your jokes are perfectly delivered, your puns, while often quite bad, were received well with the slightly tipsy audience. But then it starts falling apart - the show dragged on too long, almost out munition, you grasp straws and make a mistake you shouldn't have made. You make a bad joke, racist, after you see a man in the audience, try delivering it a something funny and end up tripping all over your words, sounding awkward and your SO's sister starts heckling. She won't stop, and it ends up becoming worse - the show ends with you getting boo'd off the stage after calling your SO's sister a cunt, and you trigger after your SO breaks up with you, both your career and relationship over.VereorNox
Your Mom has always pressured you about your weight. Every week, there seems to be a new diet or pill regime to adhere to; every New Year, she buys you an expensive gym membership that you know she cant really afford. The clothes she buys you are always a little too small. You like looking good, of course, but you feel like your mother always takes it too far - it's not like a bit of indulgence now and then will kill you, right? One day, you start to get sick. You have to rush to the bathroom every half an hour, and your stomach feels tense and knotted. You go to your GP and they diagnose you with tapeworms. You're horrified, but when you're told that the treatment is a simple course of pills over a few weeks, you feel a lot less nervous. If it had been much worse, youre told, you may have needed surgery. At dinner that night, you ask your mother where the pills are so you can take your first one and she avoids the question, saying that maybe its a good thing you have them, and that they'll help you get thinner. You're disgusted by the suggestion and insist she give them to you and she flies off the handle: "Dont talk to me like that! I'm your mother, I just want you to be fucking healthy for once! Youre so ungrateful! After how much I paid for the damn things, you're just going to kill them?" Horrified, you realise what she has done. Trigger.Wyrm

Issues with similarity to previous trigger, already discussed with Bow and Teller.

Typos fixed - theACEbabana
One year as a cop, two years as SWAT, five years in the Army, three of those as special forces. You're good, damn good, but you feel like you could be making more, and you chafe under the brass; they don't know what it's like to be a boot on the ground, don't understand that their men aren't pieces to be moved. So you take your talents elsewhere next time your contract comes up, somewhere where you can actually set the terms of your contract. Private military corporations. Mercenaries, soldiers of fortune. A deployment to South America - a cartel wants some real professionals on their side next time things go down. But things go bad. Real bad. You're surrounded on all sides, no cape support, no air support, mortars and bullets flying all around, as bad as you've ever seen it. The word comes down that there's no extraction: corporate has decided you're not worth it. You trigger as you realize you've traded being sacrificed for honor and duty for being sacrificed for the bottom line.tubes
You’ve always been a good wife. You were kind and caring, and didn’t get in your husband’s way when he needed some space. You often visited his workplace; he was usually too busy to meet you himself, but he said his work was always very important and so you tried not to let it bother you. It’s not like it mattered too much anyway, there was always the secretary to talk to and when she gave you her number you couldn’t bring yourself to say no, she was just so beautiful. You mulled over whether to call her or not and eventually phoned up, arranging to visit one weekend when your husband would be away on a business trip. She said you should pop in at about half ten in the afternoon so she had time to make dinner, and that you should just let yourself in through the back door. But you were too impatient and turned up an hour and a half in advance. You trigger as you walk round the back and see her with your husband, digging a grave and talking about how they need to hurry it up.Plecky
There’s something very wrong with you, and the more you experience life the more certain you are that it’s there. People would talk about things like happiness and righteousness, about joy and goodness and for the longest time you were confused about what they were expecting. It was so boring, all of it. But you never wanted to stand out, so you laughed when others laughed, and looked sad when they cried, fighting your smirks and chuckles. You always found what everyone called horrible to be rather funny, what made others miserable gave you a feeling not unlike what people describe as satisfaction. The older you got, the more you understood that people weren’t pretending or lying, or anything of the sort. You are just different. But you never wanted to be this way. You can see that everyone around you laughs and smiles at goodness, but all it does is bore you. You’ve spent a long time trying to be ‘good’, trying to get the right sort of satisfaction. You’ve studied philosophers and theologians, looked for support groups and every sort of thing that might help you understand why you are the way that you are. You’ve done everything in your power to be without what others would call blemish, sin, or stain. It’s not enough, but others think you’re pretty good at it, and you think it’s helping despite how completely tired you are with it. When your father is hospitalized with terminal cancer you take it upon yourself to remain with him until his final hours, the kind of thing you know a good person would do. After an utterly boring stretch of time his eyes close and the monitor starts squealing, all you think about is how disappointing it was, and that killing him yourself to watching the horror and pain in his eyes would have been so much more enjoyable. Staring at yourself in the reflection of the window by his bedside, you realize that so much time has been wasted trying to get something you can never have. You’re just twisted up and wrong. Trigger.n0us
There has been some home invasion gone wrong in the area recently, and you've started to have nightmare about being attacked in your house, you and your spouse getting tortured and killed by thugs. You decided to buy a shotgun for home defense, and once you're back home with you freshly purchased gun you try loading it to see how it work. Somehow you accidentally pull the trigger: the slug goes right through your hand and the wall, and you hear a brief scream of pain from the other side. The pain is unbearable but you can think clearly enough to remember that your spouse was in the next room. Clutching your mangled hand, using the wall for support as you feel like you're going to pass out from pain and blood loss, you go check on them, discovering their corpse laying in a pool of blood, a big hole in the stomach. It's worse than your nightmare, it's real, and it's all your fault. Trigger.AceOfSpade
You come from a very disciplinarian household, to the point of being abusive, but it’s not necessarily easy to convince anyone of it. No bruises, no tearing, not much in the way of physical signs of abuse. The trick is that your family owns a roughly human-sized box - almost a coffin, really - and that, when your grades are too low, or you get in trouble in school, or they don’t like what you did today, they toss you in it, lock it, and leave you there for a few hours. It’s hot, confined, frightening, and you’ve just been tossed in it again. This time, though, you can dimly hear your family leave the house, maybe an hour into your being locked up. They don’t come back. They don’t come back long enough for you to piss yourself, to shit in there, to pass out from exhaustion, and wake up still trapped, terrified that they died and that you’re stuck here, that you’re going to die in here. Trigger.Nonagon
Female roomate. Hot, right? No, oh god, you rue the day that the thought crossed your mind. When she turned up, she was a solid six, not bad, not great. She said she'd been camping for a while and you didn't think much of her being a little ripe. You rue that line of thinking too. You'd call her a pig, but pigs are noble beasts. You remembered people talking about how girls could be, how you'd thought it was a joke. But it got bad. The smell. Like hot garbage and B.O. and sewage all mixed with the thick throat-clogging odor of perfume and beauty products, which only served to accent and carry the other smells. She didn't wash her clothes so much as she set them aside for a few days before wearing the same set of clothes a few days later. She didn't shower, she didn't bathe, and she putrefied every place she went, with your place being the worst of it. You started biking because she borrowed your car (without asking) and the smell lingered, never going away. You lost a chance with a girl because she got a whiff of odors that clung to you. Lying in bed in your room, wet towel under your door, window open and fans blowing, you can barely breathe. With every breath, it seems to be getting worse. Three damn days into an eight month lease. Trigger.Wildbow
You wake up naked, drenched in sweat and dizzy, the smell and taste of vomit burning in your nose. Trying to force yourself up, you realize that you might have overdone it with the party yesterday. Dizzily falling to the bed again, you turn around and see someone sleeping there. Touching their shoulder, you catch a glimpse at their face. You trigger as your parents rush into the room, screaming and raging at finding you naked in the same bed as your sibling. All that in their room, of all places, while the headache is growing worse.Vern
Your wife is smart, she’s artistic and talented, with an eye for sculpture. It’s a shame she got made redundant half a year ago when the local school shut down, a result of persistent kidnappings in the area, although those still continue sometimes. She took it hard but started getting better recently -it’s as if she gets little flashes of inspiration and sets off to her workshop to spend the day working on her latest idea. It’s an expensive hobby, but it keeps her happy and besides, some of her latest work is really good -she somehow figured out how to make a wooden doll that can move its arms, and it’s currently sitting in the lounge to pour out cups of tea for people. She even said that she was working on some better ones downstairs. One day one of your neighbours walks by on the phone, eyes red and voice incoherent. Her son’s been missing for two or three weeks, and the police have just told her they can’t afford to keep looking for him with their overstretched staff. Trying to comfort her, you invite her in and offer her a drink, accidentally knocking the doll off the table. It hits the ground with a soft thwump and you notice it starting to leak congealing blood. Turns out your wife was a tinker, she could make wooden cyborgs that followed basic commands, and as you feel your life turn on its head you trigger.Plecky
Your father is dead. Your mom was still around, but she was always distant, more involved in her work than the family. You felt like a single parent, now, looking after your kid sisters and brother. The area you lived in was peaceful - small, not much nightlife but not much gang activity either. There were a couple of capes, jokes really, but nothing serious - and no supervillains. And then the local gang recruited a Tinker, somehow. Or she recruited them, perhaps. You don't know what her specialty is, but she makes them guns. Lots of guns. Little guns you can smuggle into school; big guns that can wreck an entire house if you offend them. Guns that do horrible things to a person, alter them, torture them, freeze parts of them. You were walking your brother home from school when some guys start catcalling you. When you flipped them off, they pulled out what looks like a miniature grenade launcher. You bolt, dragging your kid brother behind you, and one of them starts yelling and fires a shot. Part of the ground turns to glass, and it takes half your brother with it. You keep running. You trigger when the next shot clips your ankle and you fall to the ground.MugaSofer
You’re so sick and tired of coming in second best. Sick and fucking tired. You've spent so much time studying, researching, practicing to get into the best school you can and succeed in life but nothing you do, no matter how hard you try, will ever be as good as your roommate’s work. You both share a major, Philosophy, but he has a has a gift with words and the natural intelligence to eclipse even your greatest attempts. What takes you three days of furious research, writing, and editing is inferior to a night’s worth of exertion from that bastard. But... you can’t hate him. He hasn’t done anything wrong, and you know that. He’s just better, and you can’t stand it. He doesn’t know how bitter you are. You worked so hard to get here, and it’s like staring at a wall. In your final year, for your capstone seminar, you’re both submitting drafts of your thesis to be judged for a cash prize. You can’t possibly do better than this, and you’ve agreed to edit each other's work for old time’s sake. But when you open up his draft, it’s beautiful and compelling and you know in an instant that yours doesn’t compare. When you get your draft back you spend every night trying to fine tune. But the words won’t come, the argumentative structure is all jumbled up no matter how you try to apply it. The night before it’s due to be submitted, while staring at thesis that just isn’t good enough, you trigger.n0us
You are failing classes, people have not seen you for weeks. Your parents are probably calling you regularly. You wouldn't know, your phone has been off for days. You wake up, you don't know if it's morning or night, the time or date. At least you're not so terrified all the time. You don't have to look at people and lie to them about being all right, or have to face your falling grades. You don't have to look your parents in the eyes, so this way is better. You've probably failed all your classes, you know your parents are worried sick, you're a failure in so many ways... You turn over, face crumpling, and try to go back to sleep. Hiding from your own thoughts. Because in the end, a failure is all that you are. Trigger.Olivebirdy
Food is scarce. Trucks can’t reach your village, with the fighting in the surrounding areas, so you live on subsistence farming. There’s a bad crop, and it makes a bad famine. You’re not going to make it. You walk out into the surrounding wilderness, an old combat knife your only companion, praying desperately to stumble on something to eat. But the same drought that’s afflicting your community is afflicting the wildlife, and game is scarce and easily spooked. After hours of failure, you start trying to make your way back home, but while you were hunting there was a landslide that shifted the terrain, and the way you took can’t get you back. Hungry, you spend hours trying to find a way back home, before finally collapsing from exhaustion, darkness settling in the corners of your eyes, and you know that you’re going to die here. Trigger.Nonagon
You are a construction worker building a brand new office complex. It's dangerous work, but it puts money in your pocket, and you and the boys have always been careful to avoid causing accidents.
Today must have been your unlucky day. Just as you've finished pouring the foundation, one of the crane operators loses control of his machine as the generator short-circuits. Your crew dives for cover as the concrete bucket swings towards you, but you're too slow. It catches you with a bone-shattering crunch, and you are violently thrown from your platform and into the foundation site.
Moving and trying to stay afloat within the mix fills you with agonizing pain; the impact broke too many things inside your body. You can see the others calling for aid and grabbing harnesses, but you know that they're not fast enough to save you. As you go under the surface, you trigger as the liquid begins to fill your lungs.
“Prodigy” was the teacher said to your parents after two weeks of violin lessons. From a very young age, you’ve displayed an inherent talent for music that well exceeded other instrumentalists of your age, and eclipsed those of older students as well. Perfect pitch, muscle coordination, sharp memory, you’ve had it all from the get go of your musical career.
Not a single day in your life has been without some reference to music. Grueling practice hours, master classes with world-renown virtuosos, and orchestra rehearsals have come to dominate your life. And while you wish your parents would back off, you still made it work. You managed to graduate with dozens of offers for free rides from universities all over the country.
The drunk asshole driving sixty in a thirty five zone changed that for you. You were horribly mangled in the accident, and the doctors had no choice but to amputate. The shock of waking up and holding a stump to your face was only the tip of the iceberg. One by one, your scholarships disappear, the product of fourteen years and countless hours gone down the drain.
Alone in a dark hospital room, completely helpless on your own, the straw that pushes you over the edge is overhearing your parents talk about selling your instrument now that it doesn't have any value. Trigger.
You're considered to be one of the best surgeons in the area. Repairing damaged organs and excising malignant tumors were routine in your life. But it all went downhill when your arm suddenly spasmed mid-operation, slicing something important with the scalpel. The patient survived, but he's suing you for damages. To make matters worse, the lawsuit investigation reveals that you're displaying early symptoms for A.L.S., and that you've got less than ten years before your nervous system degenerates. Not that it matters to the plaintiff. As the walls start closing in on you, you trigger in your despair. theACEbabana
He messaged you online. You were so excited! Three days of talking, and you're in love! He just moved into town, you're his first friend here, and now he's saying he wants you to be his girlfriend! O.M.G.! Something makes you wonder if you shouldn't be careful, so you check online for tips. Tell others where you're going to be. Done. Note left behind, where they'll only find it if they're looking. Meet in a public place. You tell him to meet you at the park. He pulls up in a white van, and honks. You run up, excited, get grabbed, and hauled into the back of the van, tires peeling out. The hand is suffocating, fear lancing through you, and the older men look so scary! You manage to get your mouth free enough to talk, and the first words out of your mouth are to ask where he is. The boy you were supposed to meet. They laugh, and you realize how stupid you were. You scream, and the hand seizes your face, hard enough to bruise. You trigger.
You were a teen who liked to drink and party, and you were pretty staunchly Atheist. Apparently that was enough for your parents to send you to a 'scared straight' program. Kidnapped, taken to Mexico, and kept in conditions worse than a prison. No talking, ever, eyes on the floor. Take more than a minute to pee or brush your teeth and you had to do a hundred pushups in three minutes, or you got put in the dog cages, chin to the floor for three hours, hostile dogs mere feet away. Nobody was allowed to use the toilet for an hour after eating, because some of the others were bulimic, and none of the girls were allowed tampons, because they could be used to commit suicide, blood running down legs. While doing one of the lighter jobs, bleaching bloody girl's underwear, and you crack. In the moment the guard watching you is distracted, you start drinking the bloody bleach. They get you before you can get enough to be sure. All the long weeks of pressure and confinement and the grinding down of your identity were too much, and the knowledge that things were going to get so much worse in the wake of your suicide attempt hits you. You trigger.Wildbow
You barely know what hit you, all you remember is a flash of headlights and squealing brakes. You wake up in the hospital to a world of darkness. You can't move your limbs, can't open your eyes, can't do anything aside from breath in and out automatically. The doctors come by and perform their tests, but you can't tell them anything, even though you're screaming inside your skull. Your friends come, your relatives too, but you can't so much as move a muscle even when they try to talk as if you can hear them - unaware of your fate. Your family doesn't have the money to pay the bills, but they do so anyway, for a while. Eventually though, as the weeks crawl by inside the prison of your body, they can't anymore and decide to let you go. You hear them crying, comforting each other as they say their goodbyes, assuring themselves its a mercy while you rage helplessly. Your significant other is the one to do it, whispering a tearful goodbye in your ear as they turn off your life support. You realize you're going to die, awake, concious, and trapped in your own head, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. Trigger.apoc
You are a construction worker building a brand new office complex. It's dangerous work, but it puts money in your pocket, and you and the boys have always been careful to avoid causing accidents.
Today must have been your unlucky day. Just as you've finished pouring the foundation, one of the crane operators loses control of his machine as the generator short-circuits. Your crew dives for cover as the concrete bucket swings towards you, but you're too slow. It catches you with a bone-shattering crunch, and you are violently thrown from your platform and into the foundation site.
Moving and trying to stay afloat within the mix fills you with agonizing pain; the impact broke too many things inside your body. You can see the others calling for aid and grabbing harnesses, but you know that they're not fast enough to save you. As you go under the surface, you trigger as the liquid begins to fill your lungs.
“Prodigy” was what the teacher said to your parents after two weeks of violin lessons. From a very young age, you’ve displayed an inherent talent for music that well exceeded other instrumentalists of your age, and eclipsed those of older students as well. Perfect pitch, muscle coordination, sharp memory, you’ve had it all from the get go of your musical career.
Not a single day in your life has been without some reference to music. Grueling practice hours, master classes with world-renown virtuosos, and orchestra rehearsals have come to dominate your life. And while you wish your parents would back off, you still made it work. You managed to graduate with dozens of offers for free rides from universities all over the country.
The drunk asshole driving sixty in a thirty five zone changed that for you. You were horribly mangled in the accident, and the doctors had no choice but to amputate. The shock of waking up and holding a stump to your face was only the tip of the iceberg. One by one, your scholarships disappear, the product of fourteen years and countless hours gone down the drain.
Alone in a dark hospital room, completely helpless on your own, the straw that pushes you over the edge is overhearing your parents talk about selling your instrument now that it doesn't have any value. Trigger.
You thought you were so clever. The bar where you and the other working girls hung out was pretty notorious for being a place where deals went down. You kept an eye out, even made out with someone in a dark corner to be in the right place at the right time to see how it happened. Then, as the next big deal was due to go down, you ambushed one of the men in the bathroom, bashed their head in, and stole a duffel bag full of the stuff. Premium grade, supposedly uncut. Enough to do you for a long while. Except it was tainted, or it wasn’t what you thought it was. The high doesn’t seem to end, it gets worse, and you get hit with paranoia as bad as it gets, convinced the gang is coming after you. Running, fleeing, trying to get away, only to see figures in the shadows, lurking. Gotta get away, gotta run. You collapse as your legs give out, too exhausted to keep moving, and you crawl, knowing they’ll come, you’ve got to get away before they come. You trigger.Wildbow
You were a researcher’s assistant in the arctic, studying glacial flow patterns, when they suddenly took ill. They were flown out, and you stayed behind to keep track of things. But as a snowstorm hits, relief is delayed and communications go down, snowstorms piling snow as high as the top of the doorframe. Snowed in, with only the hum of a generator to keep you company, in one of the loneliest places on earth, you find the quiet and the lack of communication quickly getting to you. Sleep isn’t consistent without an actual sunrise and sunset, and you ration food, with hunger playing a factor in your mental decline. Fiddling around with the radios, you get a brief message. The next flight in is being delayed, they’re expecting snowstorms for another two weeks. Stay strong. You trigger.Wildbow
Your father was a breaker, changing into an ephermal energy construct that could touch a form of energy and fill themselves with it, radiating pulses of that energy. Your brother received a variant on that same power. He could absorb materials, filling himself up with a swirling mass of that energy, and emitted pulses to convert nearby terrain to that material, concentrating it to make ripples that would push people away or knock them up. Both could emit pulses over time, or wait and emit something more concentrated, but that increased the intensity of the cost that they both paid when they exited the form. You… you didn’t get a power. Not for a while. It didn’t bother you, but as your father and brother got into crime, making bitter jabs about how you weren’t contributing, it started to eat at you. They started holding back better food and taking away your ‘undeserved’ possessions. Shoving you. Never hurting you, but making it clear how powerless you were. When you finally triggered, it was a mixed relief and concern; it ties you more firmly to them.Wildbow
Your relationship fell apart. It wasn't pretty, or nice. They abused you, physically, emotionally, psychologically. No scars, but more than enough pain. You tried to speak up, but they were pretty rich and famous, and they managed to play you off as the psycho ex. Journalists would interview you, act sympathetic, then turn around and write articles portraying you as a monster. You almost give up hope of your side of the story ever being heard outside of your blog and a few loyal friends. On your first date since the break up, though, you sit down with a near-total stranger, and as you give your name, they laugh. "You probably get a lot of crap for having the same name as whats-their-face's psycho ex," they say. The emotional cocktail they've just unwittingly set off leaves you at a complete loss for words. A mix of anxiety, fear, righteous anger, the feeling of being trapped, of nothing being good enough to satisfy anybody, of a fundamental unfairness. You trigger.Nonagon
Your parents are always pushing you hard to succeed. After several hard earned As in high school and applying to what feels like hundreds of colleges, you are relieved when you get in to one of the best. This is short-lived as your parents make you sign up for too many classes, and you quickly burn out, spending too much time on classwork and making very few friends. A couple years later, your grades have slipped into the C-D range, and your advisor is concerned that you may not graduate. She tells you she has called your parents and they are flying out here to help you get back on track. You can't bear the thought of facing their disappointment, and desperately try to think of a way out of this. A few days later they have arrived and you have only found one solution. Your mind made up, you climb the stairs of a nearby office building, go out on the roof, and jump off with only a slight hesitation. You close your eyes and truly relax for the first time in years. The wind rushes by your ears for a second before quieting, and you feel warm arms around you. You open your eyes to see a cape setting you down on the ground, and think "I can't even kill myself properly". Trigger.Quanfinigon
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The Theatre
Baton Rouge