Oooh yeah.
Search Posts
Make sure it's enjoyable to you as well though. As a GM myself I totally understand writer's block or burnout, happens to everyone at some point. We're all in this together here.
Aw, RIP Gene Wilder...
Keep it up! Keep it up!
Sigh, damage die... *locks his D8 in a box of shame*
Hey all, just letting everyone know that I feel very refreshed and revitalized after taking a week away from the forums entirely. I've got a lot to catch up on, but I've begun working on just that, and I hope to have updated every campaign I'm part of by early afternoon. Thanks for your patience once again.
Hey all. Since you're all so patient with me (and I do very much appreciate that), I've made a decision. Rather than half-ass this break and come back today, before I feel fully ready to, I'm taking the rest of the week off. Updates will resume in full next Monday. I promise, I'll be fully 100% again by then, and my posts will continue as normal. Just need a bit of a break week to let my brain relax and re-gather some creative inspiration. I'll be spending the free time this week reading, mostly, and collecting ideas that I can use in characterization, plot, and setting. Thanks for your patience everyone. Hope I'm not making a bad first impression on you, Dexter the newcomer. Normally, I try very hard to be a diligent and consistent poster!
I was on a 3 day weekend vacation yesterday. I'm trying to get caught up, but I've been struggling at work lately and it's killing my creative energy a little bit. Will post asap.
Jamee sees the world through a computer screen, I'll show him the real world. Good luck breaking through this kid's agoraphobia! It took him hours to leave his command tent and come aboard the Lucky Sixes when the Captain picked him up.
"Check!" the elf-boy shouts into the comms as he banks hard to the left, dodging some laser fire from the Hierophant. Scanning the ship for a landing zone wide enough for the Sixes, he sets down behind the sensor dish on the starboard wing. Loud clang sounds can be heard throughout the smaller vessel as the boarding clamps lock on forcefully.
If I see that kind of opening, I'm going for it.
You guys sure are lucky that your ship has the best pilot in the galaxy aboard.
"Roger that, I'm punching it!" the elf boy shouts into the shipwide comms. "Hold on to something!" With that, the elf pilot jams his throttle levers forward with both hands, engaging maximum thrust. There's a grinding groan that echoes throughout the entire ship... In his haste, Jamee didn't disengage the parking brake. "Damnit damnit damnit..." he mutters under his breath as the engine floods itself and briefly shuts off. The Sixes lists slightly to the left, and Jamee has to jam hard on the attitude control to compensate. Re-cycling the engine's cylinders to full, Jamee blasts the ship into low atmo, laying in a course right for the Hierophant. "Transmitting firing solution," he mutters directly to Toober. In moments, the HUD in front of the war machine's vision begins to flash with rocket science calculations, providing the most accurate trajectory possible to land on the Hierophant.
Jamee positions his RAB next to Sona's external chassis protectively as she has shut down her outer systems. He scans the small, drugged up human male dragging a chain leash, determining his threat levels. Assessment: minimal. Back at the Sixes, Jamee shrugs in his command chair and powers down his RAB's arm cannon temporarily.
Dexter: you've got my character pretty well figured out. Since he's just a little kid, albeit a brilliant roboticist, he modulates his voice and facial features to make him appear older when he's communicating through his robot. We're going to have very little in common initially, but that's okay.
During the 24 hour flight, Jamee spends a good amount of time resting, after setting the Sixes on an automatic pilot through warpspeed. After all of that's been confirmed, he'll crash for a good 8 hours, then eat reclusively by himself and watch weird alien porn in his room. Don't judge him, that's just what he's into. During the trip, he considers the best lie to tell the station authorities when they question them, and decides to go with Occam's Razor - the simplest solution is often the best. A shipwide scan would show quite an eclectic array of lifeforms - he would tell the gatekeeper that they were a simple cargo vessel on passenger interstellar taxi-driver duty. That is what he does when the dwarf presses him for more information about their business and cargo. Showing a falsified avatar of his own face for the vidscreens, one of an older, more mature-looking elf, Jamee speaks through his modulated voice box. "We're a cargo vessel delivering passengers to Uggim 5. Their business is their own. We're just coming to drop them off."
Jamee cocks an eyebrow in disbelief at Grellick's display of camaraderie. He doesn't buy the "we look after our own" line for a minute, but it's interesting that he would take that approach for characterizing himself. The sharks with the biggest smiles were the most dangerous. Still, it was good that the goblin was treating us nicely, for the moment. Jamee's back is still preparing to be stabbed, and probably always will be. His prejudice towards goblins will afford him no less paranoia than that. As Sona downloads the data from the dossier, Jamee is already plotting a course to Uggim 5, in anticipation of Captain Bucanero's order. He scans the remainder of the information critically, looking for what Hyde may have found that would have tipped off the AoS.
I'm of like mind with Toober on this one. I'm waiting for the backstabbing to occur, and I relish the inevitable showdown that we will unleash as a result.
Jamee makes sure his bonds are tight around Huxton's wrists as he binds him, then sets his RAB to autonomous search-and-find mode. The RAB's visual indicator light shifts to blue to indicate that Jamee is afk and the RAB is being self-piloted for the moment. "Man, what a fight!" the elf boy says, standing up from his computer chair and stretching as tall as he can with a quiet grunt of satisfaction. Scratching at his ribs, Jamee heads to the Sixes' galley to find himself a snack while Blast-O-Tron handles the looting.
I should point out that Jamee keeps his true age hidden from everyone except Sona and Captain Bucanero, basically - through a voice modulator, and through projecting a false image through BoT's transmitters when facetime is needed. His youth is a closely guarded secret.
MCKhaos, Jamee is 14 years old. After touching down in Shan City, the elf boy busies himself climbing about inside the Sixes' innards, conducting preventative maintenance checks and evaluating the systems that were damaged in the most recent fiasco.
The posts were quite meaty! Check them out if you're interested in discussion about GMing and Dungeon World in general, guys, they're very interesting reads.
Jamee opts to land the ship at the private spaceport that Grellick made available. Not because he trusts the goblin - he doesn't - but because he's daring the goblin to backstab the Sixes and give Blast-O-Tron a reason to perforate his skull.
I know, I just try to keep it to one post a (work)day for every campaign I'm in, regardless if I'm the player or DM. Keeps me honest. :)
Set phasers to narratively convenient.
Indeed it does. Vengeance is expensive, making peace is lucrative.
Quick question for you, GM, as it'll inform my decision. How is the crew of the Lucky Sixes doing for cash? Creds? Jingle? Barter-stuff? If we're basically flying through space in abject poverty, like the crew of the Serenity in Firefly, for example, well, my eyes might turn into dollar signs at Grellick's offer. On the other hand, we're already on a job right now that is promising to pay pretty well, so maybe it's a better idea to just kill him now and have it be over with. I guess to move the roleplay along, I'll have Bucanero ask the question in-character. The Captain hesitates a moment, resting his hand lightly on BoT's blaster arm and gently pressing it to point it at the ground. "How big a bounty are we talking here?" Meanwhile, back in his control room, Jamee is Googling the Association of Silence. He puts his extensive knowledge of Boolean search operators to use while Bucanero is negotiating.
Aww yeah. His robotic split-fingers tap search functions AND, OR, and NOT into the ship's computer with lightning speed and the young elf boy scans the results hurriedly.
I'm thinking kobold naming conventions are that you pick your own first name based on what you most desire; Picket really just wants to find a nice and peaceful place to retire someday, killer universe permitting. Awwww!
Jamee sets Blast-O-Tron to autonomous operation mode and instructs it to follow Captain Bucanero, remaining behind to pilot the ship. He lays in a course for their origin point, swinging back around in a wide arc to find the patrol ships and hopefully pick up Toober. Meanwhile, his RAB - its light set to green for autonomous operation - follows in the Captain's footsteps and generally looks intimidating.
Hi all, I'm the ranger! I'm a young elven technological prodigy...
Tis but a scratch!
"Heeeerreeee weeeeee gooooooo," Jamee shouts, his voice vibrating from the stresses being placed on the ship's hull. Yanking back on the controls, the young elf boy pulls as hard as he can. The G-forces from the centripetal inertia make his muscles shake and the ship's sensors scream in protest. The Sixes screams through the atmosphere of the star, causing her heat shields to glow a brilliant white as they compensate for the extreme solar radiation. The elf breaks out in a sweat from the heat and the stress, beading out on his temple. Through all the hubbub, Sona's voice cuts through, calm and clear through the speakers. Heeding her advice instantly drives Jamee to follow the rings in his path, flawlessly scooping up the escape pod and depositing it in the cargo bay!
Saw a familiar face on Reddit today! Check it out, Toober's full body! I dunno if the rest of you had already seen it, but I hadn't.
\ At least you're racking up a s##%-ton of XP, Toober!
Jamee punches in some coordinates for a wide arc loop around the system's star, taking the Sixes nice and close to the magnetic field surrounding the Sun of this system in order to confound the scanner sweeps of the ships pursuing them. He includes vector coordinates that indicate he wishes that the ship would loop around the far side of the star to return to their point of origin, and pick up Toober, hopefully from the wreckage of the main patrol vessel.
Jamee sits back in his chair with a heave of exhaled air. He didn't think they were going to make it there for a few instants. He thumbs open the comms. "Didn't quite copy that, Sona. Servo arm? Don't know. Whatever it was you said, great job holding the Sixes together. That was insane. You alright, Captain?" He keeps the comms open as he continues, lowering his hands to type calculations into the ship's computer regarding their drivespace orientation. "Toober has the advantage in infantry-level combat, and we were sitting ducks there with all those ships aiming at us. Once we've shaken them, which it appears that we have, we can loop around and sneak attack one of the patrol vessels to liberate the war machine. In the meantime..." the elf lad allows himself a grin. "I have a feeling Toober's feeling pretty in his element right now."
Also, please don't eject the mess hall ;.;
|