When I was new to that subreddit, a thread caught my eye. You Will Die. The DM was playing "death", though not as a character. Players could bring in absolutely any character into any situation, and the DM would go along with it. After each round, the DM would roll to see if the character was killed. First round, on a D20, death had to meet or beat a 20 to kill you. Round two, death had to meet or beat 19. Round three, 18... And so on. If you make it to round 10, you win, you beat death.
People brought in all sorts of tough characters, and a few wacky ones (like a suicidal guy). After reading through all the intense, big time fighter/warrior ones, I wanted to try something different.
A normal housecat.
No one had beaten death yet (3% chance to make it to round 10), but how amusing would it be if a plan normal cat were the one to beat death?
[No one knows your character going in, they only learn about it through this first post.]
My name doesn't matter, for I am loved. In the warmest places I thrive: pools of sunlight, warm breezes from openings at my feet. My food is served to me by those who adore me; the rare occasion it is late, I berate them loudly.
My people call me many things, all spoken in warmth and kindness, except when random things happen to upset them, such as when I knock items off a shelf or jump onto a countertop.
I am a cat.
I hear an unfamiliar noise, and rouse myself from my nap, yawning and stretching before I go to investigate it.
You hear some rumbling at the backdoor of the store.
As you approach the door you can hear a cracking sound coming from the hole where your people normally stick a metal thing in to open the door.
Does the person behind the backdoor also have one of those metal thingies to open doors? Is it someone you know? If it is someone you know, why does it take the person so much effort to get the door open?
Roll: Meet or beat 20: 14
Different and unexpected things require attention; they are opportunity or danger. My tail starts to move slowly, swishing not lashing, as I listen to the sounds behind the door. Rumbling? And having trouble making the metal door opening thingie work?
Higher ground is safer, and that's where I move to. With ease I leap onto the countertop, the place where almost all people stop on the way out of the store to pass items between them and my people, to watch the door.
My tail continues to move, picking up speed.
The door finally opens revealing a masked man. He slowly pushes the door open and enters the store.
Suddenly he sees you. He's startled but quickly composes himself.
He starts to move toward you without saying anything.
Roll: Meet or beat 19: 5
Strange people do come here all the time, but they don't come when my people aren't here. What will this one do? There's no one here for him to exchange items with, no one here to give him a bagtoy to take with him when he goes.
I stare at him. If he were a cat, he'd understand the challenge in that and maybe turn and leave, but I know better than to expect that of people. My tail moves faster, lashing behind me -- another sign to this trespasser that he should go.
If he gets too close, within striking distance, I'll have to give ground myself, but otherwise I'll continue my stare at him. A growl rumbles to life in my throat, but likely too quiet at this point for people-ears to pick up.
The stranger carries a bag.
He's getting closer and closer. He lifts up the bag and dives toward you!
You jump out of the way. Because of that, the stranger falls onto the counter and utters a soft "oomph!" as he does so. It seems he was trying to catch you!
The backdoor is still open.
The stranger starts to get back up.
Roll: Meet or beat 18: 14
Cats are predators, but we're very small ones, which means we're also prey. We know better than to be caught. I retreat further down the counter, stopping near the thing with the drawer that smells of paper and metal bits covered with the scent of many, many different peoples' hands.
The door is open, and outside is someplace I always want to go, but not now. Not when there's an intruder in my territory.
Back arching, fur lifting to make me look more intimidating, I hiss loudly at him.
The intruder approaches you with the bag again.
He says something to you, "Come here kitty."
He seems determined.
Roll: Meet or beat 17: 17
[I knew I had to die this round, so I tried to leave an opening for him.]
My territory. Mine. If I retreat too much, I'll give give up ownership, and this is my home. Back arched, I hiss loudly at this trespasser, trying to bluff. I lash my tail violently -- sign I'm serious, sign I'm about to attack.
He has yet to post my death, but I wanted to make a copy of the thread while I have a moment. I've taken part in a number of threads in that sub since joining, but this one was my favorite so far. I just wish I had lasted longer! Darned dice...