One Hour One Life Forums

Shroom pies. Shroom soup. Shroom crops. All should rely on human activity and should be able to be crafted. Yes please. Waiting for raw shrooms is torture.

I’m guessing the player was experiencing some lag. Definitely a glitch.

I have another one for my wonderful mother Laura.

Mother, you believed in me when no one else did. My second cousin tried to get me to kill myself, and I went up to you to say my goodbyes. But you saved me. You told me you were proud of me at every little thing I did, and I didn't do much. But you had me at an old age, and were dying fast.

I pleaded you not to go but I knew you had to. So I promised to make you a grave.

Took me about 15 years to find rose hip, screen after screen of savanna with no roses. Found one eventually, but by this time half of my food meter had decayed. Went back to camp, grabbed bowl, spent another 10 years searching for snow lump. Put it in the snow, went and got soil, set it down above the berry farm you spent most of your time in. Grabbed seed, planted it, watered it, went to get your remains, someone had taken them. 5 years until I found them, buried them, stole shovel and stone from smiths, would have made own and found own but time was running out fast, I was a withered old man. Put the first rose on your grave. Kept my promise. Died next to you.

I love you Mom, thank you for believing in me and helping everyone out. You were a wonderful lady, it was simply an amazing coincidence to be born to you.

Love,
Tomi

http://lineage.onehouronelife.com/serve … &id=279210

Sorry for rushed content, in a hurry. Editing later.

To July
--

From the moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew we were meant to be. We were only eight at the time, but we both knew that we were soulmates. As I went to ask you to marry me, you asked me to marry you. I accepted with great happiness and sought to make you the happiest woman our village would contain.

Our teenhood was pretty basic. You did your odd jobs, I did mine. Mainly, I spent my days in the sheep pen or in the berry farm. You were gone a lot, and we never really crossed paths. I didn't really tell you this, but my uncle worked in the sheep pen with me. He wasn't the nicest to me.

When the town drama started, I could tell you were heartbroken. You insisted that your mother was innocent, while my aunts gossipped about how she was a witch. I sided with you, but they didn't listen to me; I was a 'useless male.' You thought they had killed her, and ran to check on her. I tried to follow you, but lost you within the ever intertwining forest. I saw you run into the badlands and my fear of you killing yourself begun.

So I began taking drugs. I became less productive and sat around, wasting my life away on mushrooms. I thought you were gone, and to top that off, my dear mother perished before my eyes as well. My promise to her was that I would cleanse myself, stop taking the drugs. My mother was a hardcore Christian, as was the entire village, and thought the mushrooms were the spawn of Satan. As I stared down at her fresh corpse, having been in a high while promising I'd stop taking drugs, you emerged.

You apologized. We agreed that she had been a good woman. You comforted me and my love for you grew. You also advocated for me to stop taking drugs, and I told you I'd try. But then I witnessed another tragedy; my nephew Timmy begging my aging aunt not to die. I watched in horror as he begged and screamed, then killed himself before my eyes. My aunt, unable to take the pain, killed herself too, just seconds away from making it to sixty.

My addiction got worse. I searched far and wide for mushrooms and always had one in-hand. You told me with great sadness that you were infertile, being almost thirty with no children. But I assured you that we didn't need kids, we had each other, and that I loved you despite this. You reminded me of my promise to deliver you "holy children."

I had hidden a gold ingot to make you a crown. But by the time I went to make it, a child had stolen it and made it for themselves. It wasn't fair, they had just turned four, and were not deserving of a crown. My sweet, pure wife was. But they had taken it against my wishes.

One day, while I sat in the berry garden, a mess, in a high with a mushroom in hand, preparing for my next high, you emerged. At first, I couldn't tell what you were holding. But then it let out a cry, and I knew instantly.

Our firstborn. A beautiful baby girl, with her mother's eyes. The high wore off and I took a moment to admire my family. But it didn't last long, I could hear the mushroom whispering to me. My eyes grew glassy once again as I turned my back on my family for drugs.

"You have to stop taking drugs," my wife scorned me. "You're a father now."

"I want to be a good father, but it's so hard," I insisted, making poor excuses for the disgusting drugs.

"I know, dear," she tried to comfort me. I told her I had witnessed two suicides, been abused by my uncle, and was unable to give you children earlier in life. But you calmed me down and reassured me that I was loved and needed.

You had four more children, naming each and giving them their proper dose of TLC. I tried to resist, but I still found myself leaving camp, stumbling into the forest and digging through soil to find mushrooms. I lied when you came up to me, crying "look!" I had no idea what it was. It looked like a wall. But you said it was our first baby boy, and asked me to name him. I named him Alpha, and shamefully my high wore off by the time he had grown and ran off.

Things were looking up until the bear came. Tearing through the village, eating most of our youth and fertile females. I watched it tear through our daughter Holy, blood spewing everywhere. I turned to drugs, like I always had. I felt awful, going against your wishes. I was undeserving of life, and so I told you I would lead the bear away. You tried your best to convince me, but I insisted on going. I needed to redeem myself.

I began to lead it away, but there was a problem; overpopulation. Other people kept getting in the way and pulling the bear back into town. I gave up, took my drugs, and headed back into town.

Towards the end of my life, we became closer than ever. I gave you my clothing and took a crown, setting it atop your head and naming you queen. Then, I saw that someone had left a shroom on the ground, seemingly just for me. I struggled to resist it, its angry eyes staring at me, calling me.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," was all my wife said when I told her it was whispering things to me. Then, she ate it. Ate it!

"I don't like this at all," she proclaimed. "How can you like this?" I fed her and helped her survive the high, our pips both very low.

Then a man named Nox came up, while we were saying our goodbyes, and said "I call crown and bag" to my wife. I was furious. How dare he?

"My wife is NOT a pile of loot for the taking," I yelled at him. "She's a person, your queen." But the man ignored me. We decided to ignore him and say our goodbyes. But the man had some nerve to say "I'm waiting" while we were saying our final "I love you"s. Waiting for my wife's death so he could loot her corpse? How dare he!

She finally took the crown off and put it on a baby. The baby died. I grabbed the crown and flailed it wildly, trying to place it on anyone's head but his. Finally, my wife said "Let the boy have it if it makes him happy." Her tender, kind soul. I set it on the ground, and with three pips left, proclaimed my love to her before dying.

I hope Nox is happy.
--
July:
http://lineage.onehouronelife.com/serve … &id=277959
Jesus:
http://lineage.onehouronelife.com/serve … &id=277957

I love you my dear.

Immunity to shrooms if you eat enough of them

Yes! This is one of the best parts of the game. Having a good relationship with your mother is a touching concept. Being a cute bab is extremely fun and heart-warming for both ends.

When my mom is abusive, I try to make her “better” by giving her gifts and telling her I love her. When my mom abandons me, I follow her and cry saying “ P / L / S / I / L / Y” and it causes her to take pity and keep me.

Good strategy.

Whenever I say “Old” they think I’m either offending them or don’t understand at all. They let me die every time or they keep picking me up when I try to run to another female.

Try to find a fertile female to feed you. If your mother is too new to understand that when you get old, you can’t breastfeed, then it’s probably a good call to starve anyway.

I can see how this thread could turn into politics reeeeeally quickly.

I usually get proposed to as a male and spend the rest of my life getting my wife treasures from faraway places.

If not, usually assume the position of “protector” or told to smith. Smithing as fertile female is hard. Also allows me to explore outside of camp without having to worry about bringing babies back to camp whenever I set foot out.

I try to find a place extremely close to swamp and somewhat near the savanna or prairie biome. Desert doesn’t really matter to me, although it’s handy if nearby. Try to set up near all biomes as they each have their own purpose.

Best spot should contain lots of basic food to start. Having to go and search for food every thirty seconds is time consuming and will waste huge chunks of your life. If it comes to this, ask one of your children to do this for you.

Usually what I do is:
-Gather basic tools (hatchet, sharp stone, fire drill)
-Make a basket
-Start on adobe kiln
-Make three bowls and one to two plates
-Start on fire
-Berry, then milkweed farm
-Hunt rabbits
-Make forge
-Find iron
-Start smithing

By this time I’m usually dying and too old to do anything else. Hope this helped.

Whenever I roleplay as a crazy person, everyone tries to stab me.

What is the Berry Religion? I’ve heard of it but don’t know what it is. Considering following it if I know what it is.