first lives in a stolen world

the first part of a lifepath for a Stolen World

capricorn bitches rise UP

Each entry is keyed to a law of the world. the idea is that you'll have maybe 6 years to account for before play, and for each year, you can describe your characters main activity doing that year (practicing the bow, stretching their jaws, etc.) and gain a corresponding benefit (body used to archery, jaws big enough to swallow a hog), or use these tables to roll on or choose from.

hunger, Angbora's authority and the Ash-Tongued Curse

1. Your body's ability to perform as you desire it to is always a matter of having eaten enough food that day to accomplish that desire. eating a living thing provides you with the approximate energy and vigor of that creature until you exert yourself intensely or sleep.
   
   — you eat a piece of tiger, at a feast paid for by a wealthy twin-farmer. All that night, you pace frantically until you give into its swallowed hunger and devour your host’s beautiful child, as it had longed to. Your jaws are used to breaking bones and caging you forces you to ward off the cringing fear of death. 
2. without shelter, hunger is unrelenting, and if you do not eat for three days, you will be too weak to feed yourself and, after you find somewhere to crawl and hide, your character is removed from play and will die after 3 weeks. with shelter, you will starve and die after 3 weeks. 
   
   — Cast out when there were too many mouths to feed, you will not give into the temptation of thievery, and instead lay where they left you, mouth open, waiting. You learn a secret way to slowly slowly slowly milk a little thing like a mouse or beetle between your teeth, allowing it to count as a meal for a day without killing it.
   
3. the Ash-Tongued Curse is incurred by eating food stolen from Angbora by a living being, and invites the Curse to place one of its children in your mouth, which turns all food eaten thereafter to to ash in the mouth of the cursed.
   
   — Your child, too young to comprehend the effects of the lie, feeds you a strawberry she claims your spouse bought that day. It is delicious, and it is stolen, and it is the last thing you taste. Now you bear the Ash-Tongued Curse and live green-sick, emaciated and queasy with hunger, barely sustained by the ash that the curse-child in your mouth leaves for you. You can’t run, climb, or swim. Your humanity is overlooked entirely and most people feel the same way about you that you or I would feel about a bug too large to kill.
   
4. the Ash-Tongued Curse is a living thing, and is not infallible. It relies on seeing and hearing theft or evidence of theft from Angbora and it is possible to evade it through disguise, deception, technicalities, etc.
   
1. Disguising yourself as a particular person, for example, can lead to Angbora cursing the object of your disguise instead of yourself.
   
   — seeking to trick the Ash-Tongued curse into nesting in him, you disguise yourself as your forbidden lover’s father, a wealthy twin-farmer who dines on tiger. You make a cast of his face in the night, then bind it to your face. You wear it for a year until your face bones and fat bend to his likeness. You develop an intense, unconscious psychosexual connection to each other; each of you speaks to the other in pools and mirrors. You have not yet been able to bring yourself to set the Ash-Tongued Curse on him by eating stolen food. 
2. Continued evasion of the Ash-Tongued Curse, or particularly flagrant theft is enough to get Angbora to send his servants to investigate.
   
   — Your spouse unknowingly eats a stolen strawberry from the hand of your child and turns green-sick. You are unable to see them this way and flee in a mania, preparing a stolen feast over a raging fire that first lonely night. And then you flee again, this time from the curse. From a strange, melancholic youth you learn the trick of binding your face to look like another’s, and chose the face you know best; that of your spouse. The curses you send flocking to her do no harm, as she is of them, now, but Angbora’s auditors know that one person cannot be in more than one place. They pursue you for many years, and they are now only 1d4 days behind you. 
5. Autocannibalism does not incur the Ash-Tongued Curse, but cannibalism does. 
   
   — You clamp the cup down hard over the crying kid’s skull and hold him down until the milk of poppy does. The trephine fly whirs and gnaws and bashes into the head of the child, until it finds the scented thought (black, oily-meaty), spins its crystal bridge into it, begins the process of colonization. The fly is trained, and yours; the thought was a tigers, a foreign guest picked up at a feast, driving your poor, limp patient to devour a twin-farmer’s child. their face is slick with blood, but curse-spared. 
6. It is possible to sustain yourself purely by drinking the blood of a still-living thing. dead blood does not carry this same vitality
   
   — You fall in love and form a strange family with 4 green-sick artists. Each day, one of them dresses you in their clothes, does your hair and makes you up until to curse-eye, you are one and the same. Then, they suckle your blood, and cry with joy. Seeing your unadorned reflection forces you to assert your identity in some pathetic way. 
7. Only things grown on, in, or of the soil of Angbora's earth are protected by the Ash-Tongued Curse
   
   — You work off a debt by serving as blood-garden for a ravenous, dream-addled elder, letting seeds be planted in your flesh and grow to several harvests. Your body adapts, and if you have plants growing in you, when you eat, you may choose to derive nothing from the meal to grow one plant proportionally to the size of the meal. 
8. Angbora counts time in the amount of food required to sustain a person over that time. A biological process requiring a year could be accelerated by consuming all of the food required to sustain you for a year, which would also age you one year.
   
   — whether or not you can bear children, a child speaks to you in a dream of gardens with petals like tongues, and tells you that it is yours, but has been cursed in the future to wait outside your body for 100 years. it asks you to hasten its birth, and you try. You have eaten 95 years worth of food now, and you are old beyond your time. the child is Angbora's twin; you will see this when it is born.
   
9. Someone you have fed for long enough that they would have starved to death had they not eaten for that time (around 3 weeks),  owes you their life even if, left to their own devices, they could have fed themselves
   
   — you stumble across a grove of starving murderers, rapists, and cannibals. they are starving, hairy, and their finger and toenails curl into their flesh. they have been pinned to the trees with unicorn needles. You feed them for long enough for them to owe their lives to you, but have not freed any of them yet.
   
10. Jade is the oldest stone, and remembers a time before the world was stolen and gifted to Angbora. It always will seek to return to the innermost veins of the earth, which do not acknowledge Angbora's authority, and will burrow through younger earth and stone to do so.
    
    — you live for a time as a Jade-Weight Penitent outside of Angbora's gates, holding a huge slab of jade on your back, preventing it from fleeing into the earth, forcing it to endure the Starving Emperor's rule. You and your companions hope to gain an audience with Angbora through this show of devotion; your sibling and their lovers are all green-sick blood drinkers, and it was once your dearest wish to see their curse lifted. Your back is used to bearing great weights. 
     
    

    

    okay this is evil but i can't stop thinking about squeezing a lemon onto her