Sunday 23 December 2018

Fairy Generator



on bounding legs of and flapping wings of wielding a that's made of its clothes fashioned from a it’s while
1 frog butterfly lantern gossamer boot smoking a pipesolving a riddle
2 grasshopper hummingbird sword grass book fishing (but not for fish)fighting with a friend
3 heron dragonfly cloak glass pillow counting something inaneharanguing a woodland creature
4 deer bat spear mud kettle reciting poetry to an inanimate objectbuilding a nest
5 kangaroo rat christmas beetle hammer moonlight cutlery practising kissinglooking for true love
6 ballerina sycamore seed flasksnowhandful of coins butchering a killwaiting for someone to rob

art is "mothdust changeling" from mtg
the lorwyn set has a lot of good fairy art

Tuesday 11 December 2018

BRIGADE de CUISINE

A restaurant complex the size of a small city, spiralling down the sides of a mountain, plunging cellars deep into its glacial heart. Lowest levels are a riot of food courts, beer halls, dive bars, buffet counters, noodle-and-dumpling stands, blending into each other to become one massive banquet and piss-up. Highest levels, accessible only to the embarrassingly rich, provide culinary pleasures undreamed-of by the schmucks below. In between are people selling every conceivable variety of meal, snack, beverage and over-dinner entertainment. It's unclear where anybody sleeps. Possibly they don't.

The Kitchen's heart is the Gustatory. It houses most of the tables and most of the customers. If the PCs arrive out of the blue, looking for nothing more than a good meal, that's where they're likely to wind up. The other four districts - the Gumbo, the Griddle, the Greenhouse, and the Glacé - primarily prepare the endless mountains of food funneled to the punters, but host a few specialist eateries and experiences of their own.

The kitchen is headed by a mysterious chef de cuisine, their identity said to be known by only one other in the whole of the kitchen. The Griddle, Gumbo, Glacé and Greenhouse are each run by a sous-chef: a dragon, a giant squid, a vampire and a perfectly ordinary human, respectively. The Griddle also has a saucier, nearly as powerful as the sous, who often mediates between the different factions. The Garbage is rumoured to be staffed by only a single garçon de cuisine.


GUSTATORY
Huge communal tables run down the centre of every street. Silk-hatted goblin busboys scamper in and out of trapdoors, toting huge platters of pork, pushing dumpling trolleys and scavenging the scraps from discarded plates. Conveyor belts large enough for three men to stand abreast distribute bales of sushi on colour-coded plates. Everything is one massive food court. The greatest danger you face here is a pub brawl.
  1. A poverty-stricken high elf offers her soul for a single sip of the chilled pomegranate and burdock wine they keep in the lowest tunnels of the Glacé. You could also find the raw ingredients in the Greenhouse and mash together a decent substitute. Elf wine is mostly bullshit anyway
  2. A jealous noodle shop owner wants to find the secret ingredient of her rival's extra-salty broth. Track her through the Gumbo after her shift and find out exactly what she does to it
  3. An ogre chieftain has been eating mutton shanks by the wheelbarrow for the last three days, and the supply from the Griddle has run out. Go and find the source of the delay before the chieftain starts to get hungry
  4. A drunk merchant is craving mandrake root ratatouille, piping hot. She can't find a chef to serve such a disgrace, so is throwing cash around asking for someone to steal one on its way from the Griddle to the Glacé to be chilled
  5. A pair of solid gold chopsticks are being offered as first prize in a eating competition. The terms of entry are vague - contestants are judged only on the total volume of food and drink they can consume, and none of the human competitors seem dismayed by the fact that the reigning champion is an ettin capable of eating twice as fast as anyone else
  6. Nearly a hundred eager customers have banded around a charismatic orc poet and begun the first leg of an impromptu pub crawl. Publicans are desperate for help in steering the crowd, some wanting the crowd to stay as long as possible, others wanting the atmosphere of their eatery protected from the staggering masses. Some scheming salesperson would likely reward you well for starting a brawl in a rival's restaurant

GUMBO
Turkish baths in which every pool is a differently flavoured soup. Saunas filled with steam from bubbling broths, wading pools of pumpkin puree full of fat, happy, edible snails. The famous fondue fountain; a waterslide of pleasantly warm cheese. Hygiene is meticulously managed from the catwalks above, with pressure cooker airlocks and the highest density of clipboards in the Kitchen.
  1. A hugely obese customer, who hasn't left their restorative soup bath in twenty years, has begun to very slowly overheat. They insist that the only thing to cool them down is an iced tea from the deepest freezer in the Glacé
  2. A steam naiad wants to take liquid form, just to see what it's like, but the efreet who stokes the fire beneath her kettle is too proud of her work to put it out. The chefs can't get any work done until someone resolves their feud
  3. The duke has lost his favourite poison ring! Get it out of the pumpkin broth before anyone finds out, or they'll have to throw out the whole tureen and he'll be banned for life
  4. A backed up pipe just exploded, blowing dishwater into a dozen bowls and baths of soup. Get down to the Garbage and clear the blockage before something else goes wrong
  5. A tragic mixup has sent ten tureens of dragon blood-soup out to the Gustatory and ten tubs of dragon-blood soup to the Griddle. The deliveries need to be intercepted before they incinerate any customers or, worse, cause a riot in the drakegrills
  6. The winning entry in the annual spiciest soup competition has emptied a wing of the Gumbo, and the teary-eyed judges are desperate for someone to brave the steam-filled corridors to get the lid back on the damn thing

GRIDDLE
A canyonous stretch of smokestacks and spitroasts, full of dripping meat, leaping fire and falling cleavers. Cutlets, kebabs and carne asada. Steakhouses and cigar lounges buried behind meat markets and fire-side arguments, orcish swear words and delicate knifework. The hierarchy is managed in the manner of dragons and hogs, with much tussling and competition.
  1. Four chefs are chasing an escaped pig. The pig is actually a cursed princess, capable of communicating in rudimentary scratches and squeals. The flesh of such is said to be extra delicious.
  2. A merchant trying to eat a rib from every mammal is aghast - their prized ivory scrimshaw was accidentally thrown out with the trash. Anyone who goes to the Garbage's boneyard to find it is promised a bag of gems and an ivory earring.
  3. A masochistic troll is feeling glum. All it wants is for people far and wide to come and feed from its regenerating flanks, but it's worn out a handful of chefs already and needs either a new cook to play muse to, or a new recipe for troll flesh to keep the diners interested
  4. A friturier in the Griddle has found out about her competitor's secret ingredient - a dangerous and illegal stash of rotgrubs gorging in the Garbage. She wants you to go down and get her hard evidence that she can show to the sous
  5. A tray of hibernating toads has woken up halfway into the oven and gone mad with terror. The chef needs them asleep for her experimental smoked toad recipe, thinks that with a reasonable simulacra of swampwater from up in the Gumbo, the toads could be calmed
  6. Two tons of smokewood has been accidentally set alight. Impromptu spits have been erected all around the renegade inferno and people are happily toasting to their good fortune, but someone of less pyromaniacal inclination is going to need to round up another two tons of wood or there'll be no smoked eel available for a good week
very tired fungus farmer
GREENHOUSE
Usually less urgent than the rest of the Kitchen, but no less hard worked, the staff a steady stream of ants across the tiered gardens, glasshouses and groves. Ramshackle cafes serve salad, banh mi and high tea. Cockatrice coups, suntanning apple ents and the self-managed minotaur dairy, woven together with hessian sacks of manure toted by mud-smattered, loving labourers.
  1. Before it's served at table, a specific kind of carnivorous vine must be fed somebody who's recently eaten its fruit. You didn't know this when you were offered those free samples
  2. A cracked heating pipe leading from the Griddle has released a huge cloud of steam, now trapped against the glass ceiling and blotting out the sun over a dozen different gardens. Finding and repairing the crack would be hard enough in the soggy haze, but that doesn't explain why nobody can contact the repair crew sent up there hours ago
  3. Having requested to personally thank the chef, a local high elf dignitary was appalled to discover that their meal was prepared by a small brown rat. Bringing the elf back from their meltdown would be nice, but the waiters are mostly concerned with getting Monsieur Souris out from the grip of those salad tongs
  4. A hundred-year apple tree has given its last fruit. The gardeners sharpened their axes and were ready to deliver the promised bushel of quality smoking wood to the Griddle until the tree's resident dryad threatened to uproot the whole arbour and march it straight out of the Kitchen
  5. A bed of temperamental herbs needs the finest compost available, but nobody wants to head to the Garbage and fetch a sackful. They say they don't want to go rooting around in so much trash, but more likely everyone's just spooked at the thought of bargaining with whatever lurks beneath the refuse
  6. The corpse lilies are in bloom and the garden in chaos, a greenhouse under siege by confused ghouls seeking out the source of the delectable scent. The team of gas-masked gardeners inside have almost finished harvesting the plants, but they need a way out that won't cause an undead stampede

GLACÉ
A quite literal labyrinth of storage, of wines and food and dead chefs that might be useful in a few hundred years. Quiet ovens, curing cheese, and bonsai gardens of yeast; red wines and dark spirits. Sparkling freezers, delicate desserts and stalactites of frozen fish and fruit; white wines and clear spirits. Dry rooms above, the cold below, and everything in the Glace is elegant, from the shining steel of the world's most precise measuring cups to the arched ceilings of the skating rink.
  1. A crawling aspic has been set free to wander the halls. Its instructions are to absorb, suffocate and preserve some creature of flesh, then return to a private booth and serve itself up to a dining-party of dark elves
  2. Several dozen bowls of mandrake root ratatouille have gone missing mid-chill. A chef in both the Glacé and Gustatory promise a favour to anyone who brings a fresh supply from the Greenhouse. The mandrake handlers have all gone home
  3. The fish that swallowed a local prince's diamond ring has been tracked to an exclusive fish market. Without his diamond ring the prince has been considered too vulgar to allow in. He's now promising some slightly worse rings to anyone that can sneak in and find the one fish among several thousand
  4. A dozen dishes of creme brulee are due to arrive any minute, but the drake that's supposed to caramelize the tops has caught a cold. Someone needs to head up to the Griddle and get a bottle of dragon fire to finish off the dish in traditional fashion. The glacier would be greatly appreciative of anyone that can find a more permanent solution for their wheezy drake
  5. A potager has been sent from the Gumbo to ask the skeleton chef for a wine pairing for a catoblepas pho, but the skeleton chef is missing somewhere in the depths of a mile-long wine cellar
  6. A frozen mummy has woken up and is kicking up a stink, cursing everyone it sees and demanding they prepare the ancient meal that it requires before it sinks into another hundred year slumber. This would be business as usual, if anyone could remember how to make the byzantine meal it's requesting
GARBAGE
Nobody to give you quests down here, just a city's worth of refuse and a titanic intelligence slowly processing it all

Monday 3 December 2018

Food Generator


For fleshing out the banquet at your local dungeon moshi
Totally use with the 'method of eating' and 'complication' tables over here




with
and
washed down with
1
sliced
duck
mandrake root
plum
thin beer
2
braised
beef
cabbage
chili
mead
3
cured
catoblepas
shambling mound
peppercorn
cactus spirits
4
fried
ankheg
ent apple
dipping sauce
spiced wine
5
shredded
griffon egg
mushroom
broth
plum wine
6
roasted
rotgrub
seaweed
rice noodle
grass jelly
7
steamed
crab
peanut
bay leaf
coconut water
8
rotisserie
mimic
orcwort
cinnamon
ginger drink
9
marinated
mudmaw
whiting
lime
lemonade
10
candied
beholder
raisins
sugarcane
sarsaparilla
11
pureed
hydra
water chestnut
dried dryad flowers
jasmine tea
12
honeyed
hell hound
radishes
mustard
black beer
13
stuffed
chimera
yoghurt
bell peppers
fruit juice
14
jellied
basilisk
frog legs
custard
soju
15
crumbed
owlbear
potato
slaw
grog
16
fermented
gibbering mouther
tomato
bread
snake venom
17
charred
shark
crickets
caviar
kumis
18
salted
wyvern
apricots
rosemary
tonic water
19
sausaged
morkoth
artichoke
capers
miso
20
raw
unicorn
myconid
blood
minotaur milkshake

yay fooood

Saturday 24 November 2018

npcs of dracula's castle

This all got a bit League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. You can either use the characters themselves or the archetypes they represent. Maybe roll two and combine them??

(also kind of inspired by peter webb's thing of pop-culture collage as worldbuilding)
  1. Van Helsing - grizzled vampire hunter
  2. Lord Byron - foppish romantic author
  3. Blackbeard - swarthy pirate captain
  4. Torquemada - humourless tonsured inquisitor
  5. Lope de Aguirre - wild-eyed conquistador
  6. Don Quixote - senile paladin w/ fat servant
  7. Caligula - gibbering pervert in toga
  8. Edgar Allan Poe - melancholy novelist
  9. Falstaff - cheerful, pompous fat knight
  10. King Lear - lonely half-mad monarch
  11. Quasimodo - kind-hearted hunchback
  12. Sherlock Holmes - smug master detective
  13. Fu Manchu - silk-robed mastermind
  14. Aleister Crowley - faux-satanic tryhard
  15. D'Artagnan - jolly, foolhardy musketeer
  16. Lucrezia Borgia - poisonous femme fatale
  17. James Bond - debonair sociopathic spy
  18. Harry Flashman - cowardly war hero
  19. Dr. Frankenstein - self-loathing mad scientist
  20. Frankenstein's Monster - tragic walking corpse
  21. Ibn Battuta - urbane travelling scholar
  22. Hannibal Lecter - homicidal psychiatrist
  23. Doc Holliday - slowly-dying gunfighter
  24. Captain Macheath - chivalrous highwayman
  25. Arsene Lupin - gentleman thief
  26. Thomas Carnacki - gentleman ghost hunter
  27. Inspector Japp - gruff, stoic policeman
  28. Miss Marple - crime-solving spinster
  29. Imhotep - vengeful mummy
  30. Genghis Khan - nomad warlord
  31. Socrates - philosopher who won't shut up
  32. Li Bai - drunk poet in love w/ moon
  33. Queen of Hearts - head-chopping royal narcissist
  34. Jack the Ripper - manic serial killer
  35. Hawley Griffin - invisible lunatic
  36. Sweeney Todd - throat-slitting barber
  37. Erik the Red - Viking berserker
  38. Thomas de Quincey - perplexed opium addict
  39. Oda Nobunaga - honourable samurai
  40. Leonardo da Vinci - clockwork inventor
  41. Merlin - powerful-but-useless wizard
  42. Nikola Tesla - autistic electric savant
  43. Red Sonja - half-naked barbarian warrior
  44. Zorro - flamboyant masked hero
  45. The Grey Mouser - wry, pragmatic rogue
  46. Nero Wolfe - obese, immobile sleuth
  47. Mikhail Bakunin - bearded revolutionary
  48. Tom Swift - boy adventurer w/ gadgets
  49. Elric of Melnibone - depressed wandering hero
  50. Franz Mesmer - creepy hypnotist
  51. Sir Galahad - gallant Grail-seeker
  52. Baba Yaga - crooked old witch
  53. Joan of Arc - divinely-guided soldier
  54. Pennywise - horrible clown
  55. Gorilla Grodd - resentful psychic ape
  56. Dr. Moreau - breeder of hideous hybrids
  57. Hercules - boisterous strongman
  58. Ja'far ibn Yahya - scheming grand vizier
  59. Rasputin - hollow-eyed mad monk
  60. Baron Munchausen - teller of absurd tales
  61. Hop-Frog - psychotic court jester
  62. Robin Hood - anticapitalist archer
  63. Elizabeth Bathory - bather in virgins' blood
  64. The Hardy Boys - mystery-solving teens
  65. Abraham Lincoln - folksy statesman
  66. Sigmund Freud - sex-obsessed alienist
  67. Charles Darwin - naturalist w/ grand theory
  68. Napoleon - extremely short conqueror
  69. Fox Mulder - conspiracy theorist
  70. Oscar Wilde - acerbic old queen
  71. Geronimo - stone-faced outlaw
  72. Charles Manson - hippie murder-cult leader
  73. Sun Wukong - unstoppable trickster hero
  74. Pantagruel - gluttonous stupid giant
  75. Beethoven - manic, half-deaf composer
  76. The Buddha - calm, cryptic sage
  77. Ramses II - pharaoh who thinks he's God
  78. Lassie - extremely good dog
  79. Daniel Boone - surly frontiersman
  80. HP Lovecraft - racist sci-fi nerd
  81. C-3PO - chirpy mechanical servant
  82. Al Capone - wisecracking mobster
  83. Jordan Peterson - faux-intellectual conman
  84. Gepetto - avuncular toymaker
  85. Houdini - renowned escapologist
  86. Queequeg - tattooed pagan harpoonist
  87. Mephistopheles - tempting devil
  88. Robert Johnson - itinerant bluesman
  89. Aladdin - thieving street urchin
  90. Scarlett O'Hara  - Southern belle
  91. Ulysses McGill - smooth-talking hobo
  92. Nigel Thornberry - pith-helmeted explorer
  93. Sabrina - teenage witch w/ talking cat
  94. P. T. Barnum - slick freak-show proprietor
  95. Burke and Hare - body-snatching best friends
  96. Vladimir and Estragon - philosophical tramps
  97. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern - bickering sycophants
  98. Bonnie and Clyde - romantic bank robbers
  99. Batman and Robin - caped crusader and teen sidekick
  100. Count Alucard - definitely not Dracula
What are they doing though:
  1. Looking for treasure
  2. Looking for way out
  3. Looking for Dracula
  4. Hiding from monster
  5. Arguing with (roll again)
  6. Fighting with (roll again)

Friday 21 September 2018

homunculi pt. 2

you can have your homunculus look like anything you want it to but broadly each type varies between two extremes of form and function, depending on what pieces of your mind you put into it

scraps - hair and skin
excreta - shit and piss
meat - muscle and tendon
blood - vein and scab
bone - cartilage and bone
seed - cum and menses

id (cha) ego (int)superego (wis)
scrapsbroken-backed mice of twisted hair, devolving into redwall-esque, prop-twirling pantomime
wishes to flourish and wither, be the centre of attention
no sense of self, a projection of the group unconscious
performative pretenses of humanity; a potemkin being, the facile skin of humanity
unserious, unfocused, fickle, mercurial
doesn't want to do what you say, wants to do what you do
like huge hung sheets of dusty skin enshrining a muddy heart of phlegm
wants to imitate, conform, tidy, make neat and uniform
self-conscious, terrified of attention, freezes or flees when watched
excretaa sluggish bulk of crusty shit, leaching entropic miasma into the ground
is anal-expulsive; spreading, infecting, engulfing
obsessive-compulsive, counting, touching, pacing
anally fixated; obsessed with their interaction with the world, with boundaries and transgression
hyper-focused, childish, archaean efforts to understand, categorise
bile homunculi are more often still in the oral stage, having a desire to eat their way back into the mouth/womb
three score writhing white worms wheezing urea breath from scrunched baby faces
is anal-retentive; refining, isolating, dividing
obsessive compulsively sorts objects, chemicals extracted from objects
meata squat red ape, its head a twisted tongue furred with probing fibrillae
compelled to act; push boulders up mountains, flail until it tears
spasmic motion, self mutilation, mutual annihilation
uses the world as a means to test themself; a sword that's lodged in them is their sword now
pigheaded, quick to anger, wants to solve every problem directly and with force, but understands leverage better than you expected
can never lower the stakes
a fat wad of gristle, ten tendon arms grasping for a hostage, a bomb
only feels secure in the tensest situations; wants to drive things faster, be the only one that can hold on
hypochondriac panic, hysteria, overreaction
blooda lurching anemone of veins and nerves, of pulsing, tumbling, burrowing gait
obsessive exploration, intermingling, a junkie craving for new sensation
of exploration of the outside world, the ego learning to mediate between id and superego
driven, persistent, slow to learn, with the passive thirst of a paper towel
will happily bleed resources away trying the same thing over and over
flat, territorial scabs on the library wall, with white-celled spurs that melt flesh
compelled to clot, seal, hide, hoard
agoraphobic, xenophobic, fears of the unknown
bloata dozen little hogmen, greedy barbarians wrought from a fistful of tallow and a smear of blood
ever chewing, swallowing, absorbing, compulsively gorging
no impulse control, cannot overcome need to eat
terrified by the sensation of time passing, a first fumbling fear of mortality
passionate, melancholy, melodramatic
desperately wants to maximise its lived experience, inevitably drives itself to either swift chaotic death or interminable monotonous starvation 
a still pool of liquid fat, ready to pull you in and set hard around you, while it tries to work out what to do
hibernates, over-thinks, over-plans, wallows in paranoia
cannot parse rapid change, crippled by decision paralysis
bonea mouth-up manta of cartilage, like an ear, puckering to an agile, intelligent tail
flexible, good at adapting its approach, but not its goal
can improvise but struggles to learn
an awareness of past and future, a need to perform better next time
calculating, focused, narrow-minded
tries to optimise performance, flexible enough to adapt, as solid as it can be without shattering
a puzzlebox of tooth-edged knuckles, mind and body splintering into yet more lethal geometries
precision, efficiency, refinement, competition
can learn but not improvise
seedan oedipus; fixated on killing the father-mother and impregnating their body to fuel a glorious biogenesis
instinct driven to multiply, fuck, breed, become legion
the phallic stage; the cusp of psychosexual development, self-determination
complete but not final, not yet perfect
direct, prideful, predatory
an elektra; fixated on killing the mother-father and using their seed to construct another, more perfect homunculus
obsessed with martyrdom, survival of the fittest, anhedonic sex, lustless procreation


and for your troubles, some Patricia Piccinini

jesus christ fucking freud man
some of those wikipedia pages were pretty hard to get through

penis envy? fuck you man
(u 2 jung)
i'll show u something to be envious of
(the above hog)

Thursday 20 September 2018

homunculi pt. 1

Homunculi are matter made to think it is human. Without stem cells, this is mostly eerie golemesque simulacra - little balls of hair with looping mouths and eyes that serve no real purpose; bubbling, dribbling people of almost-flesh that dissolve into piss when you cut them through There are four orders of homunculi, as follows:


maybe it'd look less creepy with a perm?

Scrapthings and Scrapelings
A knot of hair, a drop of spit, a carefully folded fingernail. Any part of you will do, really. Obedient but with little intellect; a microcosm, a parody of the real self. Often pretty cute, like the dust sprites in Ghibli, scurrying around carrying tiny letters or eavesdropping on your enemies. Sometimes massive; a ghostly heap of transparent skin flakes or a clawing tumbleweed of frizzy hair
Excreta
It's easy to make enormous shitsacks without ever murdering anyone, but they have a stunted, primordial intellect; gut flora trying to replicate human intelligence.
Piss makes things even stupider though - almost no actual human dna in there, just ghost impressions from their time passing through you. Least comprehensible, incapable of performing complex tasks, heaving breaths of burning alkali
A favoured party trick is to grab the saliva from the tip of your tongue and drag up by that thread all the contents of your stomach; a wriggling babyform of acid and bile that screams and wails and tries to crawl back down the nearest throat


okay who put teeth in the shit golem
not funny guys

when bae give you that look like
"i'm gonna burrow veins into you like roots in soft soil"
Bone, Blood and Bloat
The first time you'll be able to craft independently intelligent servants. You probably shouldn't though. Whatever fraction of their form is directly from you is the fraction of your intellect they may develop. The smarter they are the more of a cunt they become, the more likely to stab you in the back
  • Bloodbags are most common, being easiest for a lone practitioner to harvest. They tend to be persistent, but learn slowly
  • Meatwads you can make out of only a few corpses. Maybe a pig if you're desperate. Prone to brutish anger
  • Fatstacks are often found in whaling ports, though adipose tissue is easy to grow if you've got an appetite. They tend to melancholy
  • Skeltal Men, requiring bone marrow, are most rare. They are dense with sense of self, craving cruelty and competition

True Homunculi
Made out of eggs/sperm/uterine lining, they look like a younger, hotter you, and have one of the below traits:
(based on highest stat? i leave it 2 u decide ur destiny)
  1. Magic. Alter self, acid splash, cause mutation, etc, at will (int)
  2. Psychic. Levitating, throwing things around. Maniacal laughter collapses into agonised sobs (wis)
  3. Supernatural beauty and charm. Evident insanity doesn't stop you wanting to do what they say (cha)
  4. Perfect form. +4 to all stats, +4 bonus to everything (dex)
  5. Cancerous. Prone to the whole 'Akira flesh beast' thing, they are only mostly in control (str)
  6. Immortal. Not actually immortal, but they heal all damage they take the next round (con)
If you can mix your own eggs with your own sperm, they get all of the above and probably inspire an inquisition

mother's milk is red today

Whatever you make them out of, at least 1% of a homunculus' volume must be from the caster (often just a drop of blood), or 10% if you want to actually control them. You can mix and match ingredients, with the majority of their form deciding their powers and a small bonus for including more powerful components. Usually you'll use this to, say, build a bone homunculus out of a couple of still-living victims and a pint or two of your own blood, rather than using your own skeleton

You need at least 30kg of matter for a 1HD, medium-sized homunculus, an eighth as much for something small, or eight times as much for something large, etc. Chances are the first True Homunculus you make will be a perfect, post-human brain genius, and also 2 inches tall. For reference, a human body is around 30% meat, 25% fat, 15% bones, 7% blood. Your hair weighs about a quarter kilo, you excrete about a kilo of piss, and one of poop, each day. An ejaculation weighs about 15g so you have to cum like 2000 times to make a 1HD True Homunculus. Seems about right. The average discharge of menstrual fluid is 35g, so you're going to have to fuck with your cycle to make any real progress there either.

For those looking to really play god, there're always teratomas. Constructed from entire ovaries/testicles, these are a mass of cells that, not knowing what to grow into, try to grow into everything. They will expand when fed almost anything biologically adjacent, but blood works best. Preferably your own, to keep things stable. Your baby teratoma will develop fluid-filled cysts as it grows, and if a large cyst occurs there is potential for the production of a fetus. Keeping a teratoma in the sweet spot is difficult. If poorly fed - too varied a diet, too much of someone else's blood, too hot, too cold, etc - its cysts will spawn merely flawed mutants and fleshbeasts, creatures more readily obtained by other means. If overfed, allowed access to a water supply or charnel house perhaps, the teratoma is likely to go full katamari, rolling around squelching up cows and spitting out hiveminded homunculi.