It all began when my dear friend, Cameron, asked if I'd like play in a 1-1 sandbox Kult game with him. I was interested but sluggish, unsure of what I really wanted in a character and long-term campaign. Then, a contemporary circus performance blew me away. It inspired me so much that I not only watched it a second time, I messaged Cameron, "So I have a vague concept maybe..." Cue us chipping away at a Google doc of bullet points, random notes, him sending me personal questions regarding René, like: "Who or what are you most passionate about? / Have you ever hurt another person? Do you feel bad about that?" and more. We fooled around with the Kult tarot, even getting @vampemoqueen involved in reading the spread that I had drawn. From there, we fleshed out a flawed character that I grew to love, discussed dramatic hooks, and built a world of weirdness and dreams set in modern day Montréal. This is the reason why I enjoy the PbtA system in Kult—player and GM create together and both of you are responsible for giving what you take.
Like what I had seen in the show, we wanted to explore the topic of liminal space, a waiting room, transitions and the passage of time in-between, going, going, gone. We are moved by the psyche, the surreal, and the sublime. What does it mean to be human in a Kult setting? How does creativity affect an artist? Does seeing patterns in the life and objects around us restrict or set us free? Oh, and a sprinkling of body horror and dysmorphia please.
René is a 28-year-old circus artist; a Sleeper who is unaware of his own divinity. The stage is where he has honed his craft, respected for his strength and skill. As a trans man, it is also where he feels the most vulnerable yet seen as how he wants to be seen. Co-founding a circus collective with his friends, they create strange little pieces that captivate and unsettle the audience. Certain sequences trigger entryways into places that should not be there. René is enamoured by the world around him. Sometimes he gets distracted by the patterns and shapes in things he cannot explain. Sometimes it overwhelms him. Will he eventually have the potential to manipulate time and space?
I'm excited to see where this journey takes us. We are on the cusp of creating something truly grotesque and beautiful.
This piece is something very special to me.
It shows our little "KULT: Divinity Lost" roleplaying group — a campaign that has been running for almost three years now, and yet, in-game, only about a month has passed.
The story takes place in 1980s Seattle — and its shadowed reflection. Our GM weaves magic into every session, diving deep into our characters’ pasts and emotions. Because of that, we’ve barely touched the “official” adventure… and I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.
The scene, titled “A Taste of Peace,” captures one of those very rare moments when our characters actually get to laugh — a brief spark of light in an otherwise haunting story.
From left to right: Yuna, Chris, and Mexx — accompanied by the world-wandering cat Alistair (NPC) and Mexx’s loyal dog Pyro.
I painted this scene just for us — as a memory of the most intense, emotional, and meaningful group I’ve ever been part of. I love these characters, and I love the people behind them.
Here’s to the stories that move us, and the friendships that make them unforgettable. ❤💀✨
@evilwy drew this beautiful portrait of René, his very essence on display for the world to see. Thank you so, SO MUCH! 🔦
He disappears like sand under the warm glow of the stage light, slipping through the ebb and flow of time, shifts, slithering deep, spiraling, into nothingness.
Still reading? Well done, you.
A second update, as we're slowly getting to grips with the tone, setting, and play style. The kind of the story we we want to tell. It's heading in a Lynchian direction and I can't complain.
René visited his sometime lover, Aishwarya, the hostess of a secret fetish party below The Diving Bell Social Club / Club Social Le Scaphandre. Though the highlight of his night was the company of another man. A like-minded soul who piqued his interest in symbols, the artistic process, and philosophy of the world around us.
The man is a performer himself, but is he an employee or customer? Or something else entirely? He's purposely vague about it. At one point, he plays on an intricate device that he's built—a clockwork contraption combining instruments of sound, light, smell, hydraulics, and what have you. René feels as if he can see the whole universe at once and hears a distinct heartbeat getting louder and louder.
He's invited to join in. The audience are hungry, lapping up the energy from all of this. What is this? René feels naked and exposed. Yet, he manages to break through the mental block he's been having with the piece he's been working on. As he soars and tumbles through the room, he choreographs a syncopated pattern that is way more complex than the original piece. René stops trying to control it, to recreate things, defocusing to the big picture, the macro, allowing the chaos to wash over him. Then, he dives to the ground and the lights go off in the middle of it, so whether or where he lands is a mystery.
Finding himself alone backstage behind the curtains, René believes this was a sleight of hand performed by the man. He heads upstairs, back to "normality" of what could be considered as both a rock dive bar and established music venue. There, he bumps into Laurent, his flatmate, whom he'd been searching for the entire evening to no avail, bleeding and unconscious, propped up by his friends.
Apparently, Laurent had embodied the spirit of Iggy Pop during the karaoke set, wailing into the mic and smashing a bottle into his face, taking a flying a leap off the stage (the exact same time, René realizes, when he took his). Eventually, René has a quiet end to the intense night, walking along an unmarked dirt path through Mount Royal Park, wondering if he'd peered beyond the veil.
Kultober Day 1. Our PCs had to uncover the Dark Secrets of their friend's family in order to save him from a cruel fate. Unfortunately, this drew the attention of a brutal nepharite of Golab who would haunt them years later.
