Weaver Dice - Trigger Events
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college hazing. End of a long week of head games and bullshit, you get drunk with the rest of the fraternity. But there's a final task: you're taken to the basement, made to strip, and given tweezers. The head of the frat dumps a box of rainbow sprinkles on the floor, telling you you're supposed to sort it by color. Groan-worthy, especially when you're drunk off your ass, but when your group finds the light switch, it's a strobe light. Your cries of being epileptic are dismissed as another head-game, you're called a mole for the frat, believed to be a final obstacle by people who are so drunk they can barely stand. Your blind struggles to reach and turn off the light switch are stopped by the others, the light flashes against your closed eyelids, and the pattern is making your brain hot, your personal tell for when a grand-mal is coming on. Probably more than the one. It's going to fuck your brain up, maybe permanently. And, you know, trigger you.GundorOnce 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.

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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.
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.OctoberClassifications:

Keep track of resulting powers & classifications as triggers are removed from list:
Mover: 40.1
Breaker: 34.8
Master: 51
Tinker: 34.3
Shaker: 42
Blaster: 42.4
Thinker: 38.5
Striker: 35.2
Brute: 39.5
Changer: 37.8
Trump: 16.2
Stranger: 32.9
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 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
A strange email alluded to private things between you and your partner. It weirded you out, and it weirded you out more when your partner acted squirrely about it. You did some digging on their computer, and what you found was a website. You knew your partner had a submissive side to them. What you discovered, however, was that your entire relationship, they haven't been making any of the calls. When and what sexts to send you, what to wear, what to do on dates, how and what decisions to make on a personalized present they gave you, the night you did anal. There are scripts for what to say on dates. Crowdsourced decision making, and to help them make the right calls, your partner's dished all the details on how you eat, sleep, talk, fuck, what you wear. People have been speculating on who you are, some quite creepy, and it looks like the team of people running the site (there's a team!?) are trying and failing to stay on top of it. You hear the key in the door. You meet your partner, and you see them smile, as they always have. This time, however, you hear them speak the words to greet you, and you feel horror mixed with violation as you hear not her voice, but the tens of thousands of detached internet users speaking through them. Wildbow
Your 15 year old brother straddles the railing of the balcony, 16 floors up, holding all of your photography equipment. He used too much data on the phone service you shared with him, you cut him off, and now he's threateing to jump and take thousands of dollars of your equipment with him, if you don't cave to his demands. The equipment doesn't matter - his life does. You say you're going to call the cops, he threatens to jump if you try. Left with no other option, terrified, you concede and agree to turn his cell phone back on. Your parents get home, and you tearfully explain the situation. They give your brother a short lecture, then make the online payment for the cell phone for him. Nothing else. He smirks at you. The trigger happens the next day, when you don't let him have the TV remote. A threat of suicide, a precarious perch on the side of the balcony, to the point where you worry he really will fall. Knowing you have no out (too poor to even leave home), terrorized, knowing this will happen again and again as he uses the nuclear option to win every time he wants, you trigger.Wildbow
College hazing. End of a long week of head games and bullshit, you get drunk with the rest of the fraternity. But there's a final task: you're taken to the basement, made to strip, and given tweezers. The head of the frat dumps a box of rainbow sprinkles on the floor, telling you you're supposed to sort it by color. Groan-worthy, especially when you're drunk off your ass, but when your group finds the light switch, it's a strobe light. Your cries of being epileptic are dismissed as another head-game, you're called a mole for the frat, believed to be a final obstacle by people who are so drunk they can barely stand. Your blind struggles to reach and turn off the light switch are stopped by the others, the light flashes against your closed eyelids, and the pattern is making your brain hot, your personal tell for when a grand-mal is coming on. Probably more than the one. It's going to fuck your brain up, maybe permanently. And, you know, trigger you.Wildbow
Your mother died five years ago. You were catatonic, barely able to even go to ID the body, as the last surviving member of your family. Lately, you've been rebuilding your life, and as a homage to your mother, you intended to get married in her wedding dress. After going on a pre-wedding vacation with your fiance, you return home just in time for halloween, only to find out that your cousin, who knew damn well what the dress meant to you, decorated it in fake blood for her costume. She thought it would wash out, and panicked when it didn't, scrubbing it with bleach and destroying beading and lace in the process. It takes you right back to the day you found out, unable to deal on any level, as you stare at the thing draped over the back of a chair, which looks more like a used tampon than a dress. Trigger.Wildbow
You can't help it: you're jealous. It's been a problem in past relationships, but your current SO seems to be surprisingly willing to check in every hour, to cut off opposite-sex friends, and everything else you demand. You're still anxious and worried that they'll leave you, but things seem like they may go well this time. Then it happens. They don't check in. You give them a minute or two, then call. And call. And call. No response. They're fucking around behind your back, you just know it. You thought they might have been the One. Trigger.Nonagon
You have a fight with your partner, an argument that turns into a screaming match. They say that you never contribute, that you're lazy and selfish. Maybe it's true, maybe it isn't, but it's something you always worry about, that you're not doing your fair share, and having those words come out of your loved one's mouth... it's just too much. You step out, not able to take it, and just wander, their words going through your head over and over, as you turn your life over piece by piece, trying and failing to find objectivity as you analyze everything. The sheer stress of it, the feeling of uncertainty, and the repeated running over some of your worst moments in order to try to figure out the truth is enough to make you trigger.Nonagon
You've figured it out. The people who run the government, who run the *world*, they do it right out of that building there. You watch it, day and night, a long, silent vigil, taking notes on who goes where and does what. Days and weeks of staking out the building start to add up, but no matter how hard you try, you can't quite work out who's really running the show. It could be any of them, from what you can see. You think you're on the verge - it's just a matter of who comes in during the night today. You struggle to stay conscious, but your body is no longer nearly so cooperative as it was when you first started, junk food and sleep deprivation taking their toll. You pass out as the sun goes down, and by the time you wake up, you've missed your window. You fucked up, and who knows how long you'll have to wait for another opportunity to present itself? Your frustration reaches an apex, and you trigger.Nonagon
You're on the run. You fucked up, bad, pissed some powerful people off, and they're going to make an example of you - they'll kill you and make a show of it. Every day's another agonizing one of anxiety, bouncing from city to city, the cash you took slowly dwindling. Once or twice, they've gotten close - you've heard about people asking around for you, showing your photograph, and had to pick up and move again. It's exhausting, psychologically and physically, to be chased for weeks. You can't tell people, you don't have any help, it's just you and them, and millions of warm bodies for you to try to hide between. You trigger when you spot one of them step into the restaurant you're eating at.Nonagon
Back in highschool, you were a drinker, and looking back, you know you were an alcoholic. Your 'rock bottom' was when you got blackout drunk and got in a fight with your friends, hospitalizing one. You went to court, got community service, and had to attend meetings. It was the talk of your high school for a long while. Now with a six year chip in your pocket, you still want to drink every day, but you hold off. Someone out there, however, doesn't want you to put the past behind you. A package arrived on your doorstep. You opened it, and found a bottle of whiskey, your favorite. It took willpower, but you emptied it into the garden, then discarded the bottle in the recycling bin. A strange situation, but not a problem. Until you got home from work and found the second package, this one with a note. 'Every day you come home, you'll have a drink waiting for you.' This isn't an isolated incident - it's a campaign, and you know it's one that's going to break you, or catch you on a bad day and ruin you. You trigger.Wildbow
You're at the bar, you're having a good time. Everyone's laughing, looking good, and the place is lively. You take a sip of your drink, nothing seeming amiss. A few minutes later the room starts to spin, your limbs feel weak, everything going blurry. "Whoopsie," a blurry figure says near you. "Looks like my friend here's had too much to drink." That was your first drink of the night! You can't even muster the energy to get up out of your chair, and your "friend" says "I'll make sure they get home safe and sound," waving off the concerns of the other patrons. You've never seen this person in your life, you're sure of it, as they lift your arm up over their shoulders and drag you out of the bar, and a thought works it's way through your murky mind - you've been drugged. No! No! You attempt to struggle, raise a shout, but all you manage to do is trip a bit and moan. You're not getting away under your own power. You think you hear the person carrying you chuckle, and you trigger.
You knew dating a gang leader was a bad idea, and dangerous besides, but hey, they're sweet, and don't look half bad. Well, all your fears and trepidations come to pass one day as you're on your way to your car, snatched in the parking lot and jabbed in the side by a taser, your vision fading to black before you have the chance to panic fully. When you come to, you're lying prone in the rear of a van, a man with a bandana covering his lower face, decorated with uneven, serrated fangs. He's on the phone, and the fabric over his mouth does little to mask his tone of sadistic glee. "Quiz time! Question number one. We've got a special guest on our show tonight. Hint! She soooounds a little like –" he taps your exposed thigh with his forefinger, and you feel it -shatter- at the touch, your scream echoing in the cramped interior of the van. "Well, you get the point. Question two! Whaddaya think is gonna happen to our lovely guest if you don't show up in time? He lays his index and middle finger almost gently on your clavicle, and you flinch. As the timer ticks down, he recites the seconds as they pass, savoring each passing minute with unbridled delight. Finally, you have a minute left, then seconds. "Oh, it looks like they're not coming," the masked man says, mock pity in his voice. Trigger. Antioch
You knew your dad was messing around with a girl half his age, who was probably only interested in him because of his money. Then he got killed. It turns out he was a villain, a Breaker who split into three complementary forms, and all three were destroyed in a single blow. His savings - hundreds of thousands of dollars, earned from years as a villain - fell into your hands. The problem is that his old girlfriend knew who he was - he told her, apparently, wanting to impress her - and she knew you'd inherited his money. She started blackmailing you, threatening to sell you out to the same guys who'd killed him, and she isn't letting go easy. She bled you dry, and when the money ran out, she didn't believe you. She confronts you outside your house. "I need the money, bitch. If you won't pay, I *will* tell them. Don't think I won't." Trigger.Nonagon
Your spouse makes the money, and you... well, you sit at home and you look pretty on their arm at events. It's not a *bad* life, per se, and it's one you opted into, wanting the security that they could provide you. Two years in, you're so bored at home, you take up a hobby, one thing leads to another, and you've got a job offer doing something you love. You tell your spouse, and there's a cold look on their face for a moment, but they seem supportive. Then the job offer seems to evaporate into thin air. Weeks later, you accidentally stumble on an email that was trashed on your main account, offering you the job. Another, asking why you weren't responding. A third, telling you they'd given the job to someone else. When you tell your spouse, they inform you that your job is to stay at home and keep yourself looking good, and they were just looking out for you, deleting those mails. The sheer depth of the betrayal flabbergasts you and makes you trigger.Nonagon
You tried to mug somebody with a knife. It turned out really poorly for you. They held back the knife with one hand and jammed their fingers into your eyeball, making you gag and retch, the pain and disorientation incredible, before reaching in and just popping the damn thing out. As you struggle to keep your balance through everything, wondering if doctors can put the eye back in, you trigger.Nonagon
You worked to be popular, one of the cool kids; it was nice. Operative word, "was." Then certain facts you would have preferred remained a secret... well... didn't. It was a shockingly precipitous fall, as all your friends abandoned you. You keep your head down, or try to, but it doesn't really work. The weird kid in one of your classes - pretty much the least popular, most bullied kid in school - makes a snide comment at your expense, getting laughs from every other student in the room. You trigger as you finally realize just how far you've fallen on the social ladder, just how much all that work to get where you were was wasted.Nonagon
They found Charlie, his spine broken in three places, his eyes staring at nothing. A few days later, Mark was dead too. All you fucking do is deal to junkies and protect some working girls, but apparently some psycho has decided you need to get taken out. You want to get out, but you don't really have the means, so you're sitting, tense as fuck, day after day, watching the girls work, handing out drugs to the junkies, your hand constantly pawing at your weapon. One sleepless night, you hear scrabbling at your door, and as you reach for your gun, you find it missing. Trigger.Nonagon
You're in love with a guy in another gang. Deeply, incredibly in love, the strongest you've ever felt. The problem is that there's a guy in *this* gang who seems to think you should be his. When he finds out about your late night rendezvous, he doesn't take it well. Held at gunpoint and pinned by some of his buddies, he chops off one of your toes, "so that you'll remember him every time you take a step." He warns you that it'll be worse if he hears about you messing around with your boyfriend again. It's ironic, because right now all you want to do is curl up with your boyfriend and cry. Terrified, maimed, and *still* being held down by his buddies, you trigger.Nonagon
Your older sibling was always a fuckup. Couldn't keep a relationship going more than a month, money problems, the works. You, on the other hand, were the together one, with good grades, a good SO, and all the prospects in the world. You let them stay over in your apartment for a few weeks, trying to convince them to put their life together, and that's when you found out they were a parahuman, a Changer who could change their appearance trivially. Some time later, you take off a summer from college, hitchhiking across Europe to find yourself, and when you get back... well, things aren't good. Everyone's angry at you, your bank account's empty, your SO won't answer your calls, and based on everything you can put together, there's only one conclusion: your older sibling stole your face and wrecked your life while you were gone, probably not even on purpose. Trigger.Nonagon
You're out late one night, walking home alone. Seemingly from nowhere, somebody grabs you from behind, and you feel cool metal on your neck, your eyes going wide. "Don't scream," he warns you, his voice a whisper. "Don't make a noise. Just be nice and quiet, and nothing too bad has to happen." You don't listen to him, the worst possibilities running through your head. Instead, you flip the fuck out. You struggle against him, and in the process you accidentally cut your own throat on his knife. Trigger.Nonagon
Your daddy's the coolest person in the whole wide world! He can just stop being one place, and then, whoosh! He's someplace else! It's super cool, but you're not allowed to talk about it, except with daddy's friends, who all own guns and really like to smoke. You think it's stinky, but you still like them. You're on your way to school when somebody calls your name from a car, saying they're your daddy's friend. You stop to chat, and then one of them gets out of the car and grabs you, puts a bag over your head, ties your hands behind your back, and tosses you in the trunk. You don't think these people are your daddy's friends at all! You kick and scream but you can't get out, and you're scared you'll never get out. Trigger.Nonagon
It's a fairly simple trick. Your SO and fellow magician gets in the box, tied up, and is suspended ten feet in the air. Then water starts to pour in and they escape their bonds, and the box itself, to rousing applause. Only this time, they aren't getting out. They're lying, motionless, at the bottom of the box, and you scurry to try to save them, getting the crowbar you keep for just this occasion, climbing as quick as you can on top and trying to pry the lid off. As you do, the crowbar just snaps in half ("Made in Thailand," some part of you thinks), the hook toppling off the box to the ground. In a panic, you strain to open it with your bare hands, but you can't get the grip you need. Trigger.Nonagon
Things haven't been good with your spouse, lately. They got fired, their mom passed on, and they've slipped into a malaise that doesn't seem to end. You know it's not their fault, so you try to support them. You get home one day, calling for them, and when they don't answer, you go looking for them. You find them in the bedroom, caressing a firearm, and you know - you just know - that they're going to try to kill themselves. On autopilot, you rush them, trying to grab the gun from their hand, and they start to struggle against you, trying to pull it away, to point it at themselves. Terrified, in tears, begging them not to do it, you trigger.
You're dying. It's been a reality for half your life, and things have finally reached the point where you're feeling your mortality. You need a kidney, and while you waited, you gave up hours of your life every day to have your blood filtered of toxins. Then you hear - a second cousin who attends the same school you do is a good match. You reached out, asking for help, and they agreed, but they asked you to wait a few months for the summer break, to give them a chance to wrap up their university classes and think things over. That was a year and a half ago. Since then, they've manipulated and blackmailed you, fucked with you, milked you of cash, all while dangling the organ out of arm's reach. The time you spend every day hooked up to the dialysis machine gradually increases, your overall health wanes, your vision getting worse, and there's nothing to do in those times but stew, simmering with loathing and hatred that accumulates over time. The breaking point comes when you talk to your cousin, and they casually mention they have a friend they want you to fuck. You don't have to, of course, but... and you know. You can't walk away without consigning yourself to death, and you can't ever get your organ, because your cousin will never give up this power they hold over you. You trigger.Wildbow
Your older brother was a parahuman, a Shaker who created a field of warped space that heated up people who moved within it, causing increasing pain until they stopped. He was a Ward, then a Protectorate hero. You looked up to him, saw him as perfect. You took up martial arts, studied law and criminology, modeled yourself after him even in everyday affairs, mimicking his little word choices, trying your best to be as much like him as it was possible to be. Then it happened; you were watching the local news, and the story came up. He'd been caught working with one of the local gangs, passing them info in exchange for money, drugs, and a few rounds with some of their girls. There's even video of it, caught on camera as he takes cash and white baggies from some scumbag or other. You realize all that effort spent trying to be like him was wasted, and just how pathetic your mewling hero worship really was. Just how pathetic *you* really are. You trigger as you watch him walked into the back of a PRT van, hands cuffed together.
You're out doing humanitarian work. There aren't many doctors in this area, and parahumans run roughshod over most of the local logistics. A patient comes in - a young woman, carried in by one of the local major villains, some kind of flying artillery-type Breaker. She's been shot, several times, and he tells you in no uncertain terms that if you fuck this up, you'll be in very big, very lethal trouble. You get the vague impression she might be his younger sister, or his wife, or something like that. You manage well enough, treating the wounds and stopping the blood flow, but the antibiotics must've been bad or something, because they get infected. Every passing hour sees your patient get that little bit closer to death's door, writhing in a mixture of agony and painkiller-induced confusion, and you're increasingly certain she's going to die, and you're going to follow her shortly. The two of you trigger simultaneously.Nonagon
You hadn't been at the school for long. You were the new kid, joining halfway through the year, and everyone was already divided up into unique little cliques. When one group seemed to be making moves towards accepting you, you were overjoyed. Then they told you about their initiation. "Walk over the grate on the old well," seemed simple and easy enough, but then you see the thing: A rusted, dented, wide square, easy to fall through. Nervous but determined, you decide to go ahead with it - cautiously inching your way over the grate. Then the first stone flies. You turn to see the whole group clutching rocks, ready to wing them at you. Realizing the whole ordeal was just an excuse to bully the new kid, you stare at them in horror - only to receive a fist-sized stone to the face, knocking you off-balance and sending you tumbling through the grate, dislocating an arm in the process. Horrified, in agony, and plunging to immense pain or death, you trigger.Isaac
There was a man who often came round to your house. Your mom told you he was a doctor, here to deliver her medicine. You never thought that was quite the truth - they always spent such a long time alone together, and locked you in your room whenever he came round. You hated that. One day, it took longer than usual. You weren't sure whether they forgot you were in there, that you couldn't get out, but you were stuck in your room for hours. The pressure in your stomach built up, and the pain became excruciating - you had to relieve yourself in your bedroom, shitting in one corner. It was still hours as the stench filled up the room, making you nauseous, woozy. Eventually you hear an exclamation - "What the fuck is that smell?" - and the man enters your room, immediately seeing the turd in the corner. Furious, he slams you against the wall. "You think it's funny, to shit in your own room? You like shit so much, you try it!" He rubs your face in the leavings, and as the disgusting stuff fills your nose and mouth, the grip on your neck agonizing, you trigger.Isaac
The plan was for you to put the bomb at a key point in the building, then escape before it went off and made the whole building come down on everyone inside. You must've fucked up the timer, because it goes off way too soon. As the building collapses to rubble, your leg gets pulverized and ripped apart by falling stones. You're in agony, your ruined limb keeping you from escaping the scene of the crime. You trigger along with one of your victims, who is trapped inside and having a claustrophobic attack.Nonagon
You're sick of your family - and that's fair, every teenager goes through that phase. But it resonates a little more strongly within you, and you decide to take matters into your own hands, delivering an ultimatum to either attend a boarding school your next year of high school or drop out. Your grades aren't bad, good enough in fact to get you into a maths and sciences oriented school four hours away from home. The first few months, you relish your freedom, your new friends, the novelty of a new environment - and you hate to admit it, but you're slipping. Little things, at first, reminders that you're unable to live on your own. Not showering for weeks on end because you hate the gross, filthy public showers. Forgetting to brush your teeth, their condition worsening from all the candies and sweets you're buying, now that you're purchasing your own groceries. And what really damns you is the coursework. Skipping classes to stay in the dorm and play video games, shoot the shit with your new buddies - initially a lapse committed out of boredom, gradually becomes a habit, racking up disciplinary infractions for unexcused absences. Your grades fall below the minimum requirement and you don't even notice, up until the counselor pulls you into her office at the end of the semester and tells you you're being expelled. It takes awhile to process the ramifications, but when you do, you realize that worse than discarding all the friendships you've made over the past several months is the fact that you delivered an ultimatum to your parents - implicitly saying you'd be better off without them - and failed miserably. Trigger.Antioch
When you crash your car, skidding on a sharp curving ramp into a roadside ditch, you get off scot-free. Not a scratch on you. Your friends tell you you've got the devil's luck. Well, your car, she ain't so lucky. It gets towed to a shop, and for the next few months you're constantly bumming rides off your college buddies, trying not to miss too much class. Well, inevitably, your grades suffer, but what really compounds the stress is calling up friends or family to help with the costs, and the repair shop. Three months after the fact, you finally get word that the car's been totaled. Faced with the reality that you need a car to get by, looking at the damage that's already done, and struggling with a slew of stressors you haven't had the time nor mental fortitude to tackle, you find yourself wishing you'd've died in the crash. Trigger.Antioch
You were kidnapped, held by some psychotic stalker. You don't think you'd ever even spoken to them, before, but they blathered about how you were theirs as they kept you chained up in their basement. They scarred you, physically, long work with a hot poker to slowly and irrevocably etch their name into your skin. You couldn't have said how long it was, with the lack of sun. When the cops found you, you were taken to a hospital, where you convalesced. The scars never healed fully, leaving their name written on your skin, mocking you every time you looked in the mirror. Disgust at your own body wells inside you as weeks turn into months, until you finally trigger.Nonagon
You like to think of yourself as a Machiavellian mastermind, coldly manipulating everyone in your friend group to your own ends. You drag others down to raise yourself up, cut throats for the slightest advantage, and generally work your ass off to take everything you can in the zero sum game of life. Then it happens. This one bitch who thinks she's so sweet and nice takes a position you wanted. You don't let it lie, of course, immediately beginning a campaign, dragging her down with constant petty barbs, escalating into false accusations of cheating on her boyfriend when that doesn't work. It has exactly the opposite effect from what you wanted, though - everyone turns on you, recognizing your behavior for the selfish, manipulative garbage it really is. Exiled from your friend group, your self-conception and understanding of the world shattered, you trigger.Nonagon
Your spouse keeps you living in a constant state of fear. Screaming, hitting, insults that bite to your core, they keep you living in terror of them. It only escalates, never getting any better, and finally, you get a gun. Just to defend yourself, you think. In case it ever gets that far. It's not a month after the purchase, though, that you completely snap. They tear into you, leaving you battered and bruised in the bathroom, before just stomping away and going to bed, telling you to sleep on the couch. You can't fucking take it. You grab your gun from its hidden spot, and shoot them in the head while they sleep. As you stare at their corpse, a dead, dull feeling in your chest, you wonder if your life is over. Trigger.Nonagon
Your parents are force-feeding you water as punishment for some misdeed, real or imagined. What they don't realize - and for that matter, neither do you - is that this is potentially lethal: water intoxication can cause death. Your head starts to spin, you feel nauseous, your vision becomes blurred, and you're having trouble breathing. Your parents don't care, just shoving another water bottle in your mouth and forcing you to chug it. You trigger when you start having a seizure.Nonagon
Your spouse used to be a bright, intelligent person - someone you admired and respected. Then... then they were kidnapped. You don't know quite what happened to them, but two years after their disappearance, the police found them in a storage container along with dozens of other people, apparently having been taken and used as slaves. They were never the same. Not even close. A shell, not talking or writing, needing you to take care of them. Every night, they wake you up two or three times with screams and fits from nightmares. You try to take care of them, like you would hope they'd take care of you if your situations were reversed, but it wears on you, constantly. You can't abandon them, but at the same time, you don't know how much longer you can take this. Trigger.Nonagon
When your sister was born, the umbilical cord cut off her oxygen for a long while. She was born without a heartbeat and recusitated shortly after. Everyone talked about how she was such a miracle in surviving, but the reality was that she was mentally disabled. Her being around made everything so very hard, from eating to sleeping to finding time for yourself. When you joined junior high (7th grade), you thought it was all over when your sister tried kissing/slobbered on a guy in your grade a week into classes. You pretended you didn't know her, and chased her off. You spelled your name differently, you made up a family, and somehow got into the group of cool kids. Everything was fine for so long, but a 7th grader isn't very good at lying, and the lies came tumbling down - your sister came to greet you after school, shouting your name in that voice of hers, and it was like a nightmare. Someone asked her who she was, and she called herself your sister. In your shock, you could barely refute it. All the cool kids were staring at you, looking disgusted. Your social life for junior high and high school, utterly destroyed.Wildbow
You want friends. You really do. But when you talk to people, your brain runs itself in circles, fucking you up with paranoia and stress. You can't just "be yourself," because "yourself" is a neurotic mess in any conversation with someone outside your immediate family. You stew on it, disgust at your own patheticness welling up inside you along with the crushing loneliness, until you finally trigger.Nonagon
It's this damn modern culture. You just want to wait for marriage - is that so terrible? Apparently. Every person you go out with, every SO you have, it ends after a few months, at most, when it becomes clear that you really mean it when you say you won't put out. You meet someone, they're absolutely wonderful, sweet, kind, perfect, and when they start to make moves... suggestions... you don't want them to leave you like all the rest. You know you'll never meet anyone better. The morning after you lose your virginity, you wake up to find them missing. You feel dirty, disgusting, as if you betrayed yourself (because you did), your brain struggling to decide whether the person you loved just got up to do something quickly or if they just fucking left you here like a spoiled piece of meat. Trigger.Nonagon
Your SO was controlling. What you wore, what you said, what you thought, they wanted to control every last bit of it. It was smothering - you felt like you couldn't breathe under the pressure. So you broke things off, cut contact. You run in the same circles, and they've managed to dress it up as some sob story. Everyone around you is now pressuring you back into a relationship with them, and no matter how you try to explain it, nobody listens. Unable to bear the constant pressure, trapped by your social group, you finally, sulkily, go back to them. As they put one possessive hand on your shoulder, you trigger.Nonagon
Your best friend did something stupid and bad, and it hurt you. You got into a really big fight with him, and your parents dragged you apart. That night, you prayed he would die so that he could go to hell and be punished for what he did. You woke up the next morning, and your mother hugged you tight, tears on her face. She told you, crying, that your best friend is dead, that he got hit by a drunk driver and died. It's all your fault; if you hadn't prayed for him to die, he'd still be alive. Trigger.Nonagon
Your life partner was a wonderful person. Same-sex marriage wasn't legal in your state, but you lived together, in spite of their family's opinions on the matter. Then the accident happened, and they suffered severe brain damage. Bad enough to get them declared legally incompetent, but not quite so bad that you couldn't still see the love and affection in their eyes, that you couldn't hear their slurred 'I love you's directed to you. Unfortunately, their family never approved, and they're their legal guardians, now. They cut you off completely from contact, and as you struggle desperately to fix it, to get back in contact with your beloved, you become increasingly aware that you won't get to see them for years, if ever, legally. Trigger.Nonagon
Your mom and dad don't understand. You're a deer! They call it a 'ridiculous fantasy' and talk about taking you to a psychiatrist when they think you aren't listening. But you know, deep down inside, that you're a deer, you have a deer's soul, you were supposed to be born a deer and not a human. You paint your face to look more deerlike, you refuse to eat meat, you study deer, you work and struggle to be more in tune with your deer brethren. Your father tells you that after school today, you're going to go to the psychiatrist, and you freeze, like a deer in the headlights. As he shuttles you off to school, you're already making plans to escape, to run away from your oppressive horrible parents and live in the woods as a deer. In the middle of the school day, you make your escape, prancing off into the woods to finally live free the way you were truly meant to. It's not two hours into your sojourn when you realize you're completely and utterly lost and have no idea where the good spots are to eat grass. This is all your stupid parents' fault! If only they'd accepted you, this never would have happened! Furious at your parents for their part in your current situation, you trigger.Nonagon
A monster. That's the only word for it - it's a person, but it's a monster. Skittering across the walls and ceiling, coating this warehouse in some strange, viscous material that covers the windows and the doors, blotting out sound and keeping you trapped. It's obssessed, and it's taken you, the object of its obsession, here. The food is the unappetizing, prepackaged kind, and it doesn't trust you with so much as a kitchen knife, so you're eating soup and fruit out of cans, along with the occasional biscuit. It tries to be nice, sweet, some odd alien purr to its voice, but you hate it. You've begged it to let you go, tried to escape yourself, but it's smart, it's good at what it does, and you can't get free. One day, weeks into your ordeal, its sticky, slimy fingers grasp your shoulders, then your chin, forcing you to look at it. It presses its equally sticky snout up against you, its long, alien tongue trying to worm its way past your lips. It's trying to kiss you, you realize in horror and disgust. Trigger.Nonagon
You met someone, someone decent and kind, and you came to feel affection for them, wound up getting married. They were more into the sex than you, but hey, that's normal, different people have different sex drives, right? Maybe it's not, you realize now. After a couple years of marriage, building a life together, you meet someone else. Being with them is electric - it feels like you're on fire, almost, burning with desire that was always subdued or absent in lovemaking with your spouse. The difference is that the new person you met is the same sex as you. You're gay, you realize, far far too late. You do care about your spouse, but not in that way. You don't want to hurt them - and you know it will, if they find out - but lying to them about this isn't easy, or kind, or right. It tears you up inside. You lie awake one night, staring at their sleeping body, your mouth struggling but failing to form the words, trying to admit the truth to them. Trigger.Nonagon
Your big brother is kind of a jerk, and he has been, for most of your life. Hogging the TV, being rude, not playing with you even when you ask - you put up with this for years. Now you're in middle school, a little more world-wise (so you'd like to think) and you figure you can get him back for all the crap he's put you through. You call the cops on him, after figuring out he's been toking on the reg, and sure enough, the boys in blue come on over and throw your big bro into the slammer. It's good, at first, more peace and solitude, but the demeanor of your parents noticeably shifts, growing more and more distant. Bad parenting? They talk amongst themselves when they think you aren't listening, and the conversations invariably get heated. When your parents raise the idea of a divorce, you know that it was your actions that led to this. Combined with the growing weight of responsibility you feel for your brother's incarceration, dreading the day when he returns, you trigger.Antioch
You're just a low-level thug in a cape gang, pushing drugs and pimping on occasion. It pays well, but the higher-ups are making a push for more power, influence, assets. They go fucking nuts, hitting pawn shops, jewelry stores, escalating - until the local heroes confront them on one of their jobs, with backup from a full complement of PRT squaddies. You get involved with the shootout, but it's completely one-sided. Your gang gets crushed, and as you shout for mercy, one of the PRT agents coats you in foam. It hardens rapidly, stuck in your mouth, horrible and acrid. Your mouth is forced open, saliva pooling, you can't spit and you can hardly swallow. What's worse, though, is when they spray the solvent on you. It makes its way past the foam into your mouth, dissolving a small amount as it passes, and it starts collecting at the back of your mouth. You retch and gag, but more and more liquid starts to pool, coughing and thrashing impotently, still trapped in the foam. Waterboarded by a mixture of dissolved containment foam and solvent, you trigger.Antioch
They were a hero; they saved you, talked to you, took care of you in your time of need... it was almost love at first sight, for you. They wanted you to help them clean up the city, so you set up a meeting with some local criminals. The plan was for them to use their teleportation power to pop in, take down the baddies, and call the cops afterwards. It didn't go right - too many thugs, and you wound up revealing your true allegiance in the fight. Your hero teleported away, up to a high perch, out of reach of the thugs. The thugs surround you, wailing on you, venting their anger on you. You stare up at your hero where they sit, still and silent, watching you as you're being beaten to death, no expression on their face. You trigger from the betrayal, and the raw physical trauma.
Times were tight before your significant other lost their dream job. After that they were downright horrid. You scraped by, month after month, sliding deeper into debt. Everything would have been okay if they had managed to get another job, but application after application and email after email came back, rejecting them. After the first couple of months, they stopped applying, sinking into depression. Some days they didn’t even get out of bed, when they did they were barely more than a robot, blankly going through the motions. None of your encouragement makes a difference as you watch them waste away, all while working yourself to the bone.
That is until one day, when they get out bed with a spring in their step. They’re lively and animated, a far cry from the shadow they’d been for the last few months. You head off to work, hopeful for the first time in ages. Even the parking-lot traffic on the freeway can’t get you down. Until you spot a familiar figure on the edge of an overpass. You scream in panic as they step up onto the ledge and your recognize your other half, before leaping into the open air with a smile on their face, before plummeting towards the sea of cars below. Trigger.
You were raised by parents who taught you the value of politeness with screamed expletives, so you took it upon yourself to be the image of perfect calm. Years passed by at school and home and the facade held true; people called you nice, lovely, a good person. You loved it at first, smiled at the thought of being better than your parents. Now, however, years later, it's dawned on you that this act can never end. Your friends don't know who you are and neither do you. Is this your fate, to be acting the part of someone you aren't?
Unsure of your own identity, you struggle on. You make occasional strange outbursts at friends who look at you differently afterwards. The final straw comes when your partner of many years drunkenly tells you that you are the most boring person they have ever met. Still smiling a fixed grin, you feel mental control being swept away by a furious urge to express yourself. You're frustrated by the fact that you don't know how, and aren't even entirely sure of who that self is.
It started happening about the time your partner left you, they probably gave you something. Itchy, uncomfortable little warts growing on your skin. They started on your hands, unbearable in a way that only itching things can be. Scratching and doctors alike did nothing to ease the feeling. Eventually you found blessed relief. Pain, though awful, was somehow more bearable and wholesome than that fucking itching wrongness. Using needles and tweezers and small sharp knives you pried them out of you one by one. Weeks and months go by and they keep on coming back. When a picture of your partner comes up on your social media feed looking as happy and carefree and pretty as ever you decided to get rid of your infestation once and for all. Laying the itching hand on the tabletop you carve and rend and maim until you trigger with tears run down your screaming face.Baker
It started with you going online during a sleepover with your school friends. Anonymous, no face shown, flashing people and running an ongoing auction so that your audience could bid on the things they wanted you and your friends to do. You and your friends split the cash, but the online transaction left a trail, and one of the perverts who were watching sent you an email. They listed your contacts on social media, your mom, your dad, your -school-, and showed you some of the video they'd recorded, where you let a glimpse of your face appear. Do as they say, and they won't send the video out to everyone you know. They tell you if you try to get them arrested, a dead man's switch will ensure the video goes live. They send you a list of instructions - stuff that involves more videos, giving them even more ammo. Your friend's boyfriend gets hit by a car, dying, and the blackmailer goes utterly silent. Faced with a deadline you can't hope to meet, vividly imagining the disappointment and humiliation that will affect every last part of your life, you trigger.Wildbow
You triggered at the local pool. You and your brother wound up in the deep end, and you both panicked, realizing you couldn't really swim, worried you'd drown. To keep yourself above water, you shove him under, using him to buoy yourself up. He does the same to you, and you trade like that, you forced under the surface of the water, then him, and back again. You're certain you're going to drown, and from your angle you can see the lifeguard, just sitting at his post, not even paying attention, but you can't get air long enough to scream, in the two of you's panicked fighting to live. Trigger.
It's a long drive, but you and your buddies have made it before, and you decide to just drive through the night. There's enough of you that you can just sleep in shifts, no problem. Driving on the interstate, though, you hit a spot of construction, the highway down to two lanes, concrete bunkers on either side. A trucker on your right, hitting a wet patch, maybe falling asleep at the wheel, you don't know - he loses control, swerving, and the trailer of his 18-wheeler jackknifes into your sedan, smashing it against the bunker. You get a brief moment to scream as the chassis crumples, a brief moment to realize you're going to be pasted against the wall at three am in the middle of nowhere. Trigger.tubes
You're walking back from a date party, you and your date still pleasantly drunk. Who knows, maybe you'll - There's a screech, a scream of metal, as a pickup truck tries to overtake another car in the street, hitting them instead. The driver of the truck loses control, and it's happening fast, too fast, as the end of the truck comes whipping towards you. You're in the street - there's blood everywhere - people screaming - you're on the pavement? - why is there so much blood - you see your date being loaded up - where are they taking you - ambulance, this is an ambulance. It all fades to black, and you wake up in a sterile room. You're lucky, the doctors tell you, your partner cushioned the blow. A couple of broken ribs. They don't mention what happened to him, avoid the subject for a few more minutes, but they tell you when pressed. He didn't make it. Too much blood loss. They pulled the plug this morning. You trigger.tubes
You were slow to develop, eagerly anticipating your first pubic hairs and growth spurt at sixteen. Inches shorter than your classmates, unable to find your date because you looked like a fifth grader, you finally managed to convince your parents that you needed hormones to jump start your progress down that road. Before that appointment could arrive, however, you were hit by a car. Everything went dark, and you felt as though an immensely long time passed. When you woke, you instinictively knew it was from a coma, that things were horribly wrong, and... yet you felt a surge of hope. Time had passed, you had, in an ironic, twisted way, had a chance to grow up instantaneously, from your perspective. What they ended up telling you, however, was horrifying and confusing, almost incomprehensible. You lost half of your brain in the accident. You were vegetative, barely responsive, with the mental and motor functions of a one year old. Unwilling to end your life, and fearing that you would become too difficult to care for as you hit puberty, they pushed for the Ashley treatment, sometimes known as the Pillow Angel treatment. Sex characteristics pruned away, the hormones you ended up getting were intended to inhibit your growth, and to fuse your growth plates. You were referred to as Peter Pan in the local newspaper articles. But somehow, wires reconnected, your brain adapted, and you managed a recovery, with full mental function. A late bloomer now slated to be a child forever, and given the damage from your accident and convalescence, you're not an overly attractive one.Wildbow
Your mother has always been protective of you around heavy machinery, since your dad died on a construction site when you were very little. She would hold you close to her until the school bus came to a complete stop, and she would clutch your hand so hard on elevators it would hurt. It was a little extreme, but you understand why she smothered you so much. Your freshman year of college, you're hanging out with friends, watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom for the first time. You see the villain get crushed on a conveyor belt, and it suddenly brings back memories of your dad, leg caught under the steamroller. Extremely vivid memories you didn't know you had. You feel an enclosing pressure all over your body as you realize: you were there. Trigger.Courageo
You won't amount to anything, anyway. That's what you tell yourself while you wait in the parking lot. You never did anything with your life, but he'll be a legislator someday. He'll impact so many lives. You'd only been broken up for two months when they started sleeping together. Really, though, you feel sorry for him. He's not mature enough to know how easy it is to destroy someone's world. He genuinely didn't even consider the damage he was doing to you. He's selfish. And it would be terrible for someone as selfish as he is to write policies and laws, affecting millions of lives. He needs to learn that actions have consequences, or he'll keep on hurting people. This might be the most important thing you can ever do with your life. Teaching him this lesson -- it's why you're on this earth. She comes out of the office building. She looks just like her Facebook picture, only thicker. This makes you smile as you press on the gas. Trigger right before you hit Ms. Muffin-Top.Courageo
In some places, sensory deprivation is used therapeutically; that's not where you, however, and the maniacs keeping you there aren't terribly sympathetic about your condition after several months of hour-long deprivation followed by sudden and excruciating exposure. Half-deaf, half-blind, half-insane, you wonder how long you'll be able to continue on like this. In the midst of your pondering, you realize the room around you is shaking as you lay shackled in a bathtub, thick cotton stuffed in your ears. The realization hits you like a truck, along with the double trigger of your morbid musing and ominous observations.JBPuffin
Your husband hits you, terrorizes you, abuses you. You call the police one day after he knocks you around, and he's arrested, a court date set. He enrolls himself in a counseling program for abusers, participating fully, not making excuses for his behavior. He's genuinely remorseful, trying to correct his bad behavior and become someone more like the man you fell in love with. When the court date comes, he's had three months of good behavior, your sympathy, and the judge is impressed by his improvement: the charges are dismissed. As you leave the courthouse to get into your car, him getting into his own a half-block away, he gives you a sinister smile and wave. "No more Mr. Nice Guy," he says, and a chill runs down your spine as you realize it was all an act, and that your life is about to get much, much worse. Trigger.Nonagon
The gangs in your home town went too far. A fight between one gang and the cops sees your family dead. Adrift, something in you snaps, and you start to study the gang's leader, stalking him. Normally, he's never alone, but everyone has their vice... his is the massage parlor. You come in on him while he's getting a massage, waving the masseuse off him with a gun, then firing six shots into his backside. He dies, and it's ash in your mouth. Your family avenged; your life over. The cops or the gangs will end your story. The masseuse stares in horror up at you, her eyes on your gun. A witness. As you consider whether you should turn the gun on her or yourself, you trigger.
Your spouse is a hero. You pushed them, harder and harder, to put the hours in. Helped them block out other parts of their life to fill it up with this. No matter how successful they got, you never stopped pushing, knowing they'd get sluggish and lose their stride the moment you let up. You yell at them when they come home early, withhold affection when they don't do what they're supposed to, isolate and control them to make them become the best hero they can be. They finally snap after a long day of heroism that was an hour too short, getting torn into by you the moment they arrived home. Inhuman strength and a single backhanded slap sent you careening into a wall in your home, and you can't feel anything below your neck. Trigger.
You and your friend were low income workers, getting paid per job, whenever there was one. Your income wasn't technically legal, but you never thought you'd get picked up for it. Then one day a patrol car comes down to where you're set up waiting for a job, the officers seem suspicious. Your friend gets a little mouthy when he's cuffed, and they don't take kindly to that - one pulls out his gun and pistol-whips across the face. But they don't stop there; he starts kicking the shit out of your friend, whilst his partner holds you back. You see blood flies, and your friend screams, and you finally break free to pull them apart - a shot rings out, and you look down to see blood pouring out of a hole in your chest. Trigger.Revelation
You triggered while traveling, the first time going more than ten miles outside of your city, let alone traveling outside of your home country. You met Jorge at the airport, and he and his friends took you and your older brother under their wings, showing you the sights. But things took a bit of a darker turn. The place you went to drink at the end of the night brought the bill, and it was astronomical. The equivalent of sixty dollars for a drink, and you had a few. When you and your brother don't have the money to pay, they call the police... who you can almost immediately tell aren't police at all, but enforcers in this scam of theirs. You get taken to an ATM, and they demand you take out as much money as you can. It's implied they'll keep you for a while and milk you for your daily limit for a few days before they get rid of you... but as you punch in the PIN number, the ATM refuses you. You try a few more times, and the card is locked. You try another card, but taking out a large amount in a foreign country looks fraudulent to that bank too, and they refuse, which is cause for Jorge and the police to start beating your brother. As your fumbling attempts to get one of your cards to provide money fail, several of them grab you by the hair, drag you back, and, frustrated at having wasted the evening setting you up, ready their police batons to smash your teeth in.Wildbow
Your significant other died suddenly, and you were left on your own. It was hard to discern the grief from you actually being unwell, but you ended up going to a doctor for tests, and getting it confirmed - you were pregnant. You did everything quietly, and began making plans to end the pregnancy - it was too hard when you were still reeling, when you had a mortgage to juggle on one income, you knew you probably had to sell the house, and your grief had already put you on uneven footing with your workplace. But as you left the clinic, you ran into your sister in law, who works the front desk, and she must have blabbed, because three days later, your signifcant other's family and your family and your friends throw a party for you, celebrating the pregnancy. People cry and tell you how glad they are that you'll be able to carry on your SO's legacy through the baby. Under immense pressure and surrounded by smiling faces, you escape to the bathroom and, leaning over the sink, having a panic attack, you trigger.Wildbow
You got some money from your grandmother, so you decided to chill out, travel downtown, grab a burger and catch a movie. You never would have thought that this evening would dismantle your life. See, your twin bought booze with the money they got, and they went to a party. At the party, they assaulted a handicapped girl three years their/your junior. In the wake of the event, the blame is being leveled at ~you~. Your twin gave your name to people at the party, adopted your mannerisms, and now friends have turned against you, family is threatening to send you off to live with your uncle... if the police don't wind up arresting you. In a last, desperate attempt to try to salvage your reputation, you ask for a lie detector test, with you and your sibling being tested. But lie detectors are unreliable, they measure stress, and you're both stressed. You know you're failing, the stress ratchets up, and you trigger. Unbeknownst to you, your sibling is in the next room being tested as well, and catches an echo of your trigger event. Same DNA. You get the same powers.Wildbow
You failed your kid. The divorce, and the fact that you didn't see your child for two years, between the divorce and multiple marriages on your end and your ex's. Long story short, it was a nightmare, and the kid got shuttled around too much; they didn't even recognize you as they were unceremoniously dropped off. As you finished up the night's work, you could hear them sobbing in the other room. You promised yourself you'd go and console them after you finished the email... but something happened. A crack, a shudder, and they were standing in the door of your room with glowing eyes, whispering, "I don't want to be a child anymore." The next thing you knew, you were standing in the doorway, less than half your usual size, staring at yourself. They took over your body, giving you theirs. You were the child now, your life being dictated by a two hundred and twenty pound seven year old with adult hormones and medieval ideas of punishment, holding you underwater until you pass out or spanking you bloody if you so much as try to cook food for yourself instead of eating the burned shit they keep giving you. You thought they would be unable to deal, lose their job, beg for help, and you would have a window to find an answer or slip away, but they somehow find their way, building up a support network of others with shitty impulse control and childish attitudes, who give them drugs and a place to live for free. You trigger as your drug-addled seven year old talks loudly and drunkenly to the room about how to punish you for being a bad child.Wildbow
You got hit by a car. You were messing around at the safe end of the driveway with your skateboard or a jump rope or something when your uncle put a foot on the accelerator instead of the brake. That wasn't the trigger. Between the shock, the very nice drugs that helped with the pain, and constant assurances, you laughed, smiled and joked through most of it. Nobody walked away from a conversation with you without a smile on their face. Except your older siblings. They were jealous of the attention, as if you'd somehow wronged them. Five years older than you, almost ready to leave the house, and they start taking some of your favorite things. A game suddenly had scratches on the disc. An autographed poster gets a rip right through the autograph. Your favorite clothes get ruined in the wash. You alternately kick up a fuss and stay silent, and it doesn't stop, nobody believes you. The smile disappears off your face as the subtle sabotage keeps happening and it always hurts so very much, the hate of it. It only got worse when your uncle came with a puppy, a present, agreed on with your mom, by way of apology. You tried so, so hard to protect it. Never let it out of your sight. You slept with it in your arms and woke up to it being smothered. In your fury, struggling to hit and hurt your older siblings with arms that still hurt from the accident, you trigger.Wildbow
Your brother, the favorite, was always abrasive, but never as bad as the bullies. Until you started going to the same school. It escalated quickly, from tripping you in the hallway to throwing your backpack in the river. You learned to take the alternate path, or leave at odd times. Or sometimes, not go at all. One day, they're waiting for you. This time, you decide to fight back, managing to black one's eye. They snap, dragging you down to the river and forcing your face under. Drowning while your brother watches silently, vision blacking out at the edges, you trigger.Scg
Sorry if it sucks yo
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