Weaver Dice - Trigger Events
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You don't eat. You don't talk. All you do is sleep all day. Teen love is rough. She left you for Sam- yeah, Sam Zeigler, the one with the acne- about three months ago, right at the end of the school year. An only and mostly unwanted child, your parents work all day, rarely interact with you, and are tired of your mopey ass behavior. They don't mind that they never see you, and don't notice you haven't really been eating, and in fact, have almost starved yourself to death. You wake up one morning, attempt to get up, but your withered frame doesn't have the energy. You pull yourself towards the door, attempt to call out, but you've long since lost your voice. As you lie there, near motionless, for interminable hours, anxiety and delirium builds. You trigger.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.
Your heart swells- the Boss has put you on bodyguard duty tonight, after your marksmanship skills saved the day in a spat with a rival gang last week. You all pile into an SUV, and your finger your shiny new SMG, nervous and excited. You're headed to a summit between rival gangs- a long awaited effort to broker peace. You guard the perimeter, anticipating a PRT raid, given half the town's big players are at the meet. You're as surprised as anyone when the building implodes. Some cape with a demolition power, perhaps, or a bomb. All you know is, there's no way anyone survived. The demolition was haphazard, rubble flying everywhere, and in the midst of the ensuing dust cloud, something sharp and hard pins you to an adjacent building. When the dust clears, you see it's a beam of some sort, right through your gut. You're skewered into the wall three feet off the ground, like a butterfly in a collection. You trigger as you watch yourself bleed out.zipperless       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.
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.zipperlessClassifications:

Keep track of resulting powers & classifications as triggers are removed from list:
Mover: 20
Breaker: 15
Master: 18
Tinker: 18
Shaker: 21
Blaster: 12
Thinker: 16
Striker: 21
Brute: 20
Changer: 19
Trump: 5
Stranger: 15
You've waited for AGES to hear back from Omega Delta- the sorority your mother was in, as you proudly and regularly inform all those in earshot. Legacy sisters always get in, everybody knows it. Still, this rush has been a tense one, and you've made many enemies, Cynthia in particular. So of course, she was the one sent to fetch you, tell you that you were admitted, and bring you in for your hazing. You were forced to strip and sit on a running washing machine while your sisters jeered, took pictures, and circled any parts of your body that jiggled. Then, when the ordeal is finally over, Cynthia reveals that you never got in after all - you're too overweight to be admitted, and her and the others were just having fun at your expense. You trigger.zipperless
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
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.Vern
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 live in a town hit by disaster - gang war, Endbringer, it doesn't matter - and you want to get out, to get away to a safer place. An old friend is willing to rent. The day after you arrive, the Endbringer Sirens wake you up. You trigger.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
People-watching. It seemed innocuous, and it always passed the time for you. You had a yearly pass for the train, and it was a fun hobby, watching people gothrough their day-to-day. You've filled out tens of notebooks, andyou were really enjoying yourself, until one of them cornered you as you got off. Your watching perturbed him. He thinks you're some kind of government agent sent to spy on him, he's an absolute whacko. He starts threatening you with a knife, and you turn to run. You trigger as the knife pierces your back.

You always thought it was funny, you had the same name as one of the richest guys in town. It never really had any advantages, besides that one time you were comped a room at a casino, that was pretty rad. Until they threw you out of course. You breeze through life, the polar opposite of the man who's name you share. You live in a shitty apartment in the 'burbs, he lives in a mansion. But the fucking idiot loan shark somehow mistook you for him. Your pleas that "No fucking millionaire would live here, man!" do nothing to sway him. You trigger as he brings a pair of shears to your thumb, threatening to chop it the fuck off if you don't give him his money.Scraggy
You fucked up bad. Always a ladies' man, you treated them like treasure before, and trash after. This bites you in the ass after one of them triggers, in an unrelated incident. She thought it would be fun to watch you squirm. Her ability is to fly and shoot bolts or some shit, but she just opts to pick you up and bring you a mile high. You scream and beg, to no avail. This fucking bitch is going to kill you, and there's nothing you can do about it. You trigger as she let's go, congratulating you on joining the mile high club.
This is it. You've made it. You've worked your butt off and now your softball team is in the finals of a HUGE tournament. It's the night before the playoffs, and your team is goofing around in the hotel pool. You don't think anything of it. Everyone is diving even though the signs clearly advise against it. You've always been rather cautious, not wanting to stir the pot or do anything stupid. But all your friends are doing it! Nothing bad can happen! You get ready, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the "deep" end (though, deep in this case means five feet). As soon as you start your jump, you know something is wrong. Someone shouts your name just as you leap, but you don't have enough time to react. Your head bangs against the concrete and you know... just know your neck is broken. You trigger as everything below your neck goes numb.Saff
"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 grew up with homophobic parents. You learned early on that being gay was evil, that it was something offensive, satanic, punishable by hellfire. But when you finally made it out of that tiny town in Texas on full scholarship to university, everything changed. College was your escape from it all, finally having the freedom to be who you wanted to be. Your happiness didn't last long, however - you broke up with your boyfriend on very poor terms, and your vindictive ex used your password to send a homemade sex tape featuring the two of you to your parents and family friends. You trigger in shame and fear.PsychicChuckles
You can safely say that you are a content and generally happy person. Sure, there's some rough spots in life that anybody would experience, but you've got a job you love and a hobby that generally gives you drive to continue on. Specifically, stamp collecting. You've got dozens upon dozens of rare, unique, and valuable stamps, framed and hung around the small office in your duplex. You take massive pride in the collection, pariticipating in stamp forums, stamp gatherings, and are a bit of a legend in some communities. Until one day, as you return home from your job at the post office, you catch sight of a plume of smoke in the distance. A plume of smoke uncomfortably close to your stamp collection. You race home, but it's too late. A fire engine sits in front of the still blazing skeleton of your house, firemen milling about as it dies down, but you rush past them despite their efforts to stop you, plunging through embers and flame as you scramble for your stamps. You reach them, but at great cost- a supporting beam, weakened by the fires, collapses as you pass it, trapping you and your stamps within the inferno. As the flames spread from you to your cherished collection, you trigger.Prothean
You're waiting on a subway platform to head home after a long day of work when the person next to you jumps into the path of the oncoming train. Reflexively, you grab for their arm, but they pull you down with them. The next thing you know is the deafening screech of the car's brakes and the immense pressure and pain of your bisected body, pinned between the platform and train car. All you can see is the blood-stained side of the car, and to top it all off, you're pretty sure you shit yourself when your colon got crushed. Prothean
You've finally found purpose in life- the armed forces. Boot camp was tough, but you made it, and you're now on your first deployment, delivering foreign aid to a Behemoth attack site. But something in the intricate machinery of the helicopter fails, and it stutters and tumbles out of the sky, plowing into the rubble, aflame. With your entire body covered in shredded wounds courtesy of the flying rubble, searing heat enroaching on the small pocket of safety that you lie bleeding in, you trigger.Prothean
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
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, met somebody, had a couple kids together. They were the stay at home parent, you brought home the money. Recently, as soon as you'd get home, they'd leave the kids with you. You didn't think much of it; they were probably just tired or something. Tonight, though, after you tucked the kids into bed, they said they wanted to talk to you. Reminiscing about the life the two of you used to have, when you were younger and childless, a smile on their lips. The conversation continues until they mention that they've been looking into adoption agencies and foster care, and they've called one already. You can't even think of a response, and you wait until your spouse goes to sleep before creeping into your children's room, gingerly shaking them awake, intent on heading to your mother's home with them. With your spouse's behavior, you just can't trust them around your kids... ever again, really. You're numb, not really consciously processing the fact that your marriage is basically over. Your spouse catches you on the way out, their eyes wild, demanding to know where you're going. In a moment of honesty, you admit that you're taking the kids with you, that with what they said, you just don't feel like you can trust them around your children. They start screaming. "You want to KEEP them? I thought you loved me!" Trigger as they grab one of your kids by the wrist, yanking them towards them.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's a carjacking gone way, way wrong. This fucker has had you at gun point for the past six hours, forcing you to empty out your account of hundreds of dollars, buying drugs on your dollar and forcing you to take some, making you drive him from place to place, somehow just managing to not get caught, not give you the opportunity to escape. Finally, finally, he looks the other way at the right moment, and you go for it, trying to sneak away. Your phone goes off at the wrong moment, and he's on top of you in seconds, gun in your face, angry that you'd try to escape him. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" He demands, his voice a hushed whisper, his hand clasped over your mouth, the barrel of the gun just inches from your forehead. Trigger.Nonagon
You're out drinking with a couple buddies, walking from one bar to the next, when you're surprised by a group of armed men. You're held at gunpoint, robbed, forced to take off your clothes and lie, prone, on the ground, your hands behind your heads, while they sort through your wallets. As the cold of the air and the street presses against your naked skin, you can hear one of those fuckers making a joke about your buddy. It's a sore point, something he's sensitive about, and he snarls, twisting his head, getting ready to get up or say something. He never gets a chance to do whatever it is he meant to - as he starts to move on the ground, one of them shoots him in the head, a spray of blood and bone lightly splattering your skin. Trigger.Nonagon
It's a two person project, something you're doing with a friend of yours you know from online. A phone game, an RPG supplement, a board game, whatever. You get some investors and get to work, trusting your buddy to do his part. After a couple weeks, you can't get in contact with him, and he's the one who handles the money. It becomes increasingly clear that he's run off with the money, leaving you holding the bag, and you can't do the project on your own, you just don't have the necessary skills. You try to find someone to help, or get into contact with your friend, or anything to fix things, but none of it works. Then you get the email. Your investors are suing you for fraud. It'll bankrupt you if they win. Trigger.Nonagon
You come from a very well off family - big house, financial security, certainty of going to college, trust fund, you know. On your way to school one day, you're kidnapped, driven off to some isolated spot, kept on gruel and water while your kidnappers negotiate with your family for the money. The negotiations seem tense, leaving you constantly anxious. After days of waiting, one of the men returns to the room where you're tied to a chair. "Any last requests?" He asks, a gun in his hand, and the sick feeling, the knowledge in your gut, is that he's going to kill you. Your mind goes blank, everything leaving your thoughts but pure, naked fear. 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
It was supposed to be an easy job. You'd break into the vault while the building was closed. Your team had everything it needed. When you pierce the vault's outer layer with a small but powerful explosive, though, it all goes wrong. Somebody fucked up with the wiring, and by the time you get the stuff secured in bags, your getaway driver is screaming in your comms that the cops are surrounding the building. A silent alarm your man missed. Desperate, your team closes itself in the vault, hopefully keeping the police out for long enough for you to burrow out through the ground with one of your shiny new toys. Said device fails an hour in, not even halfway finished getting you out. Trapped, with no escape in sight, the police having you well and truly cornered, you trigger.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
It's late at night, you're out with the boys, and you spot one of *them* with a girl of your own race. The racemixing slut will get hers, but the guy? The guy's /your/ target. You come after him, a long length of wood your improvised weapon of choice, and he runs for it, surprisingly fast, abandoning the girl with a disloyalty that's only to be expected for his kind. He slips down one alley, then another, and you come up on him as he dodges into a closed up building. You and two of your buddies step inside together, ready to beat the shit out of this fuck, only to find that the building was only closed to the public, and there's a half-dozen armed and dangerous men, all the same race as your target, standing up and drawing their guns while the guy breathlessly explains what happened. Trigger.Nonagon
You’ve always wanted to do a bit of traveling. After your graduation, you took a gap year to see the sights that you probably won’t ever enjoy after you start working and inertia kicks in. Everything goes off without a hitch for the most part, there’s always a bit of stress when you travel, but the uneventfulness irks you. You take a chance and visit a seedier area. The next thing you know, you’re waking up naked in a strange room with all of your stuff gone and some crazy guy starts yelling at you in a language you don’t understand. He has a knife. You try to take it from him. In the ensuing fight, you somehow manage to kill him but take three stabs to the gut. You shamble over to the door and find that it won’t open. There’s noise coming from the other side, and it doesn’t sound like the police. He must have had friends. As you collapse against the wall, you trigger.n0us
You’re so sick and tired of coming in second best. Sick and fucking tired. 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'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.
Raves weren’t usually your thing, but when you were dragged to one by your friends, you found yourself enjoying it far more than you had any right to enjoy. You enjoy yourself all night, ordering but one or two drinks, and, in a rare fit of adventurism, you took a small pill that had been offered to you. Hours later, as the rave ended, you are pretty certain the pill was nothing more than an aspirin, and more importantly, the people you thought were your friends were long gone. As you wander the dark alleys leading from the rave’s abandoned building, you realize just how lost you are, how long each shadow seems, and how very unnervingly quiet the city was after all that bass and music. It started to become harder and harder to swallow the acrid fear bubbling up from your stomach, as the darkness seemed to pull at you, beckoning you closer. You found yourself shivering as you struggle not to panic. A voice reaches out in the dark, saying, “Hey, you!” With something between a croak and a gasp of fear, you run, straight out of the alley and into the street. You are struck by a flood of light as a massive garbage truck approaches at full speed. You barely have time to figure out what to do as you trigger.Ergoemos
You’re backpacking abroad with a friend. Walking along the road in a rural area, you try to hitchhike to the next town over, which is fairly far away. A car stops for you, its driver apparently a farmer who lives in this area, and he agrees to give you two a lift. Your friend rides shotgun, while you’re in the back. Nothing gives you cause for alarm until you spot the driver’s dove tattoo. Stories of Simurgh victims wreaking havoc fly through your head, and you start to panic irrationally. It gets even worse when the driver takes a wrong turn. Already fearful, your anxiety spikes, and your outburst distracts the driver. With his attention on you and not the road, he drives all three of you into a roadside ditch. No one is hurt, but you trigger in mindless fear.Backstage
You read about it in an online article. How to turn a pole-mounted transformer into an electromagnetic pulse. Erase and destroy all electronics in the immediate area. All you needed to do, according to the article, was drop it into a large body of water. Walking by the dipshit neighbor's house, you fantasized about dropping the thing into his pool. Everything was positioned so well. Drunk, you talked about it with budddies, talked yourselves into it, and then gathered the tools. What really happened, though, was the pole broke, the tension in the wires kept the thing mostly aloft, and made it land on the fence. Your buddies die (stupid, in retrospect, to use a metal ladder by a chain link fence), and you're left standing there as a hell of electricity and fire unfolds around you, crackling along the fence, puddles on the street, and igniting the grass. You trigger.-Wildbow
You were never a bad looking person - just not quite good looking enough to be part of the 'in' crowd in high school. You knew people, you talked to people, you existed on the periphery of the group, but you weren't invited to the parties. That all changes when the hottie, a person you've been crushing on since you were first attracted to anyone, approaches you and asks you out. It's everything you ever fantasized about, the teasing conversations, getting hot and heavy in the car before driving home... and it all comes crashing down when their ex comes after you. The hottie is there as the ex and their friends corner you, watching and smiling. As a ploy to make the ex jealous and get them back, it definitely worked, and from the look on the ex's face as they approach, their friends backing them up, you're the one that's going to bleed for it. Trigger.-Wildbow
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
A late night condom run, while you're out with a girl you really like. You grab the stuff, and the hit the ATM. You feel something touch the back of your neck, cold metal, and a voice tells you to take out as much as you can. He smells bad, probably homeless, but he knows what he's doing - he tells you to stay still, waiting for the clock to pass midnight, then do it again. After you clean out your account and pass the money back, not turning around, he takes the bag from you. 'Got everything going for you, huh?' he asks, and he sounds angry. He gets increasingly agitated, shouting about your woman, sex positions, the total amount you had in your account, the woman's cup size, how easily you'd make it back, all while jabbing you with the gun. You don't know how to answer, but not answering is dangerous. In your certainty he's about to shoot, you turn around... getting a good look at him. As the look in his eyes narrows, you know that you've just forced him to pull the trigger and remove the witness. From a good day to your last day, losing it all.-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 bady 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 drafted by some major gang and forced into a gang war. This alone doesn't cause you to trigger. You get into the fight and see a friend or loved one on the other side gunned down. This alone doesn't cause you to trigger, either. The final straw is seeing half a dozen different people on the opposite side pointing weapons at you.GreatWyrmGold (Not the best trigger, but I'm not in my best creative mood.)
Wow. You fucked up, big time. You grew up in a fairly nice, but very strict and religious family. You lived across the street from the most beautiful girl you'd ever met, and little did 7-year-old you know, she would become the love of your life. The two of you were a classic romantic comedy: sharing the first kiss, going to prom together, having a few small fights, including a big one where you broke up and dated other people for a while, and meeting up again at a time in your lives when you are both old and mature enough to finally settle down. You two have been engaged for six months when you get much more trashed than you expect to one night.

The next morning, you wake up in bed with another woman naked next to you. You look at your phone and notice 5 messages from your fiance in your phone, and rush home hungover as hell. Desperate and scared, you lie to her. Your excuses are fairly weak, but she trusts you. Three weeks later, you get a text from a name that is vaguely familiar. The two-word message seems ludicrous at first, but then you put the pieces together and you sob alone. Your heart sinks as you reread the text, trying to find a way to explain this to the person who was to be your lifelong partner. Negotiations with the other woman are to no avail. I don't know if I'm keeping it, but if you won't tell her, she says, I will.

The conversation with your fiance goes worse than you could have ever imagined. You come back home one day after work to find all of your belongings thrown haphazardly outside of the doorway. The lock has been changed. You trigger when you realize that you have forever thrown away the only consistent source of happiness in your life as you know it.
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
It's been years since you turned sixteen, and yet you still don't have your license. Your parents and friends are beginning to get frustrated, because they have to drive you to even the most simple of things. Groceries, doctors appointments, taking your cat to the vet. It's not just you being lazy. You're terrified of driving, of getting into an accident and dying behind the wheel because of someone else's negligence. But, you are sick of having to be carted around like a child. One summer you start working really hard. You learn how to drive and begin enjoying it, getting over your fear of the road. Not too much later, you get your license and a car. You're doing great, enjoying your newfound independence. But, less than two months after you receive your license, you find yourself in a dangerous intersection. You stop at the stop sign. Look left, look right. No one's coming. You breeze through, feeling quite relieved... until you hear the crunch. You've been hit, and it's bad. You're not hurt, but your car is totaled and it wasn't even your fault. You trigger as you realize your initial fears were correct, that driving is more danger than it's worth.Saff
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
Your mother always taught you that if you ever said 'no' to a man, he'd dump you on the street in a moment. So when your current boyfriend suggested you become his full-time slave, you said yes. It started off fine. Wearing skimpy clothes (or none at all), a collar, doing housework, fucking and sucking on demand. No big deal. You had a roof over your head, and he took care of you, even made you feel loved. Then he started increasing the degree of control. Moved you to a big, empty room with no windows. Started lying about the day of the week. It kept getting more and more intense, and you're too scared to say no: you have never said no. If you tell him no, he'll kick you out - it's not a question in your mind, it's a fact. You wear a blindfold for the better part of a month - you can't exactly keep count - and aren't allowed to speak. When he pulls 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 scared to speak. Worried that you're blinded, the weak noises your throat makes automatically making you worry briefly that your vocal chords have atrophied, you trigger.Nonagon
You have an allergy to a pretty common medication. You have a bracelet with your name, the contact information of your emergency contact, and a listing of your allergy. It's years old, now, and it snapped in a place, but you wrap it back around your wrist, looping the broken part through the actual metal 'tag' with the inscription, so it stays on. You're in a car accident, and in the screaming metal, your bracelet snaps off, flying off to God-knows-where. You wake up in the hospital, your throat constricting on itself from a lethal dose of the drug, your body still broken and bruised as you try to thrash hopelessly, only knowing that you're hurt, and you can't breathe, and the doctors don't seem to be helping, or to understand what's wrong. Trigger.Nonagon
You're a local politician, a city council member. Probably only a small fraction of the population knows your name, but you campaign and you get reelected, so you're a politician. Recently, your office has started to get a large number of… 'interesting' letters. Same author, it seems, with clipped out letters, reading things like 'I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE,' 'NOT EVEN HELL WILL ACCEPT THINGS LIKE YOU,' 'YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED,' and other such creepy things. Nobody thinks too much of it. Just loonies sending letters, same as always. You tell the cops, make some jokes with your employees about it, and ignore it. You go out for a scheduled debate, and in the middle of it, a shot rings out. You hear the bullet whiz past your ear, and you duck to the ground. Another shot penetrates the podium, the splintering wood almost hitting you in the face. Your brain makes the connection to the earlier threats, and you realize somebody very crazy and apparently quite well armed has it in for you. Trigger.Nonagon
You work as a bank teller. It's a pretty simple job, pays well, and the hours are good. Today, you're the only person up front, taking deposits and performing withdrawals; it's a bit slow. Then he comes in, pulls out a gun, and blows away the security guard. Everybody's screaming as he steps towards the register, wearing a balaclava and a bullet proof vest, gun in hand. You're frozen in terror, your eyes wide, your fingers tapping the panic button. He shoves the gun in your face. "Give me all the money!" You try to explain that the withdrawal system is run mostly by computers that means that you *can't* give him any money beyond what's in your pockets, but he doesn't believe you. You're sobbing out of sheer fear, and the gun goes off right next to your head - a warning shot. He turns it back to you, his lips mouthing some words you can't hear over the ringing in your ears. 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
Calling him your boyfriend wouldn't be strictly accurate. He got you addicted to drugs, and now you need your fix regularly. It's not free, but you pay in kind; sex for drugs. It's so regular that getting high is something your body has come to associate with getting fucked. He's fairly high up in a gang, somebody important's kid, and you're pretty much his personal drug whore. You decide to get out. You lock yourself in your apartment, drying out, clawing at the walls as you deal with the horrible, horrible fucking withdrawal. On the third day of it, you're almost dead to the world, and that's the day he comes to visit. You can barely muster the energy to tumble out of bed when he starts to slam on the door, and you can see his head and shoulders as he enters, breaking in. He's got some more of what your body craves, and some small part of you wants to give in. A much larger part of you wants to not do anything at all because you feel awful, but you know, by the look on his face, by the way he's holding himself, by the self-justifying bullshit rolling out of his mouth, that he's about to give you another hit, whether you like it or not. All you can manage is to mumble out a few 'no, no's as he approaches. Trigger as he makes his way around the bed and you catch sight of the syringe in his hand, your body refusing to do more than skitter a few feet away from him.Nonagon
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
It's a 'driving' town- no one can afford to live in the city. You're pretty used to your hour-plus commute by now. On your way to work, you've got a large mug of warm coffee, and five audiobooks of your favorite detective historical fiction novel series to keep you calm and happy no matter the traffic. As happens many Mondays, there is a complete standstill on the freeway, and you settle in to a stop right behind a large white van, unmarked- secretly relocating a cape to the Birdcage. 20 minutes of listening to Vilkas, the crime-fighting Barbarian later, you notice a car ahead of goes flying off the freeway. A cape fight in front of you breaks out- your car is half coated in foam, the doors won't open now, and it looks like the bad guys won. You're frozen in terror as the escaped Brute smashes the two remaining guards against your windshield and starts- oh my god- eating them alive. You trigger as body parts obscure your windshield, blood and screams dripping through the cracks.zipperless
You're a solitary kind of guy, since you lost the wife. Just kind of dropped off the face of the Earth, living out in the boonies, still making enough money off your best-selling novel series to live well. You've taken to home improvement for the past few years, and apparently you screwed up at some point- one day you close a heavy kitchen cabinet you installed too hard, and it comes off the wall. You're pinned, one leg probably broken, possibly crushed. No one is coming for you any time soon. You're just close enough to the under-the-sink cabinet to open it, catch drops of water from a leak you meant to fix to survive. Days and days pass, and your leg's starting to smell. The cats, who stopped paying attention to you when you stopped feeding them, pay a keener, visceral attention now. Your last hope of /someone/ coming looking for you is extinguished as you feel the first playful nips at your festering leg turn into stabbing bites. You trigger.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
It was a normal day, wake up, go to school, nothing wrong with that. You went out with friends after school and it got a bit late, and you got a call from your mom telling you to go home. So you did. It was chilly and you didn't have a jacket, so you began to jog a bit, trying to keep yourself warm until you got home and stopped at a red light just a bit later, your home was in sight already. A small truck was visible from afar, approaching rapidly, but they would stop now that your light was green, right? Wrong. They didn't stop, and you were hit, sticking like glue to the front until the truck driver finally realized something must have been wrong and stopped. You were alive, in pain, but still okay. The driver didn't step out to help though, the truck started again and you couldn't talk, your throat was just unable to form words. The truck just moved forward again and drove over you again. The driver must've thought he just rammed some animal... You trigger.VereorNox
100 Triggers at Maximum, please.
Trigger Events
Used Triggers
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The Theatre
Baton Rouge