Hi everyone. My wife is giving birth today. I'll be around during the morning/early afternoon today and then basically vanish for most of the rest of the week. Bot me if you have to!
He vanishes with an incredibly loud pop that leaves you ears ringing a bit.
Eliza is in awe. Growing up, her entire world was a spaceship...but not like this. Captain, if there’s even the slightest chance that we might have to fly that thing, I volunteer for the away mission...
I hope we get an external threat soon, or else Mindy and Kelly will kill each other.
Mindy is also Victorian high on ether, which is why it’s taken her so long to figure it out. Oh my god, you’re into Carrie she hisses. Then, after a beat. Oh my god you’re a werewolf! She gives a languid smile. Don’t worry, puppy. I don’t want your sloppy seconds.
An older man sits down next to you. You’ve never seen him before, but he seems to know you.
He gets up and walks away. A single piece of paper rests on the bench. On it is a watercolor painting of a metal roll up door, bright orange. The number 45 is painted on the door. Squiggling black lines radiate from the door.
It’s very early in the morning in Spinethorn, MA. The sun is hours from rising and night crews are still hard at work. The stoplights blink red to accommodate the few cars on the roads. A light fog drapes over the city, diffusing the street lights and blocking out the fingernail moon hanging in the sky. A speeding hatchback shatters the peace of an empty street in the small hours. The car blows through an intersection, driven by a young man, late teens or early twenties. His name is Jessie Winnop and he died several minutes ago. His face is frozen in concentration as he races down the road. He breaks his focus for a moment to look down at his hand. Before his eyes, his skin shrivels and wrinkles, his fingernails grow. Clumps of hair drop from his head as he starts to lose control of the car. We see his POV, his vision blurring as cataracts cloud his eyes. He turns the corner on two wheels into a residential neighborhood and the small car hops a curb, flattening the mailbox and digging a deep trench into a lawn. He rips his keys from the ignition and stumbles out of the car. The shrinking is even more pronounced now; he’s completely bald, his clothes hanging loosely off him. His hip makes a sickening crack and he falls to the ground. Unable to stand, he crawls to the door. His skeletal hands are too unsteady and stiff to select the correct key. With all his strength he slams his frail body against the front door. Inside the house, an older woman clad in a pink bathrobe moves tentatively toward the door. She looks out the peep hole, calling out to see who is there. Jessie, now impossibly desiccated, weakly calls out “mom” and collapses as she throws the door open. She turns his body over and screams.
I was thinking of taking the name and letting us make the setting whole cloth. How about we just make a new eastern MA suburban city? We’ll call it...Spinethorne! If that’s cool with everyone we can dive in to our first mystery!
I’m much more creeped out by the Web and Meat...
Introduce your characters in the discussion thread when you’re ready. We’ll do history and world building questions once everyone is announced and I’ll launch the first mystery from there. I’m trying really hard not to plagiarize The Magnus Archives but I make no promises...
Embarrassed at her (admittedly probably sort of kind of racially motivated but she’s old so maybe cut her some slack) blunder, Mindy is eager to help. I’d be happy to take you to the dark room. She stands awkwardly. Farewell Carrie and... she was trying to be personable but she realized she had no idea who this person was if they weren’t Yuji. all assembled. Taking Morgan and Linda by the hand, she rushes from the library Lets go away now.
Mindy’s eyes widen in embarrassment. Siblings? Oh dear. She thought there was only one of them. They all smelled the same and at her age she had a hard time caring about the difference in cattle. She slinks a little lower in her seat. Will people think she’s racist? She isn’t.
You stomach the food, but just barely... This is the suburbs. There’s a coin operated newspaper box, but not a newsstand.
Fine she says, and starts to walk away. As she goes, she calls to Blake over her shoulder But finish quickly, Blake.
She walks over to the changing area to meet the others.
Mindy claps her hands at the two in the pool. Get! Moving! Now! God!
Swim class is bad enough without soaking in Blake’s seed. Go rut somewhere else, horny teens!
I love this game so much. It's addressing things about modern society that I'm really interested in.
In 1687, Sir Isaac Newton wrote that an object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion continues in motion, unless acted on from an outside force. Ever since humanity first launched hunks of metal outside of the earth's gravitational influence, we've been fighting against that law. We devote untold resources to keep our stellar craft from drifting, to exit warp standing still. I ask...why? As the ship dropped out of warp (in motion, despite all best practices), Eliza worked furiously at the conn, applying gentle taps to the maneuvering thrusters so that the Bastion's nose rotated toward the target, even as its momentum drives it forward. The ultimate arc of the ship will have it in perfect firing position, then spin to point away from the Jem'Hadar fleet, allowing the ship to warp away to safety. Conventional firing solutions require the attacking ship to either approach the defending ship head-on or stand still; either one makes the attacking ship an easier target to hit. What if there was a way to use the fundamental laws of motion to move the attacking ship laterally while still maintaining an ideal firing solution?
Eliza's work at the controls is precise, bordering on mechanical. There's not an iota of wasted motion, each tap of the maneuvering thruster nudges the ship exactly in the direction she wants it to go. A single bead of sweat rolling down the side of her face is the only indication that this requires any effort at all. As the nose points directly at the Jem'Hadar ship, she mutters to Jalla without taking her eyes off the console. This is the best shot you're going to get... In short, if you remove the unnecessarily restrictive safety locks from the academy's simulator, I could demonstrate the feasibility of this maneuver, saving countless lives and revolutionizing space combat. Until then, I'll be forced to simulate this...only in my mind.
Eliza places a hand to her chest. A penal colony? Goodness no! We send allies to penal colonies! If you’d, gosh...smuggled drugs, disobeyed a legal order during war, heck even committed murder, you’d spend the rest of your snaggletoothed life in sunny New Zeland. Her genial tone shifts quickly. But the moment that you provided aid and succor to the enemy you became a member of the Dominion. D’gor, we don’t arrest the Jem’ Hadar. We shoot them with phasers set to kill and feed their corpses feet first into our replicators. She stands, her charm returning. Of course...if you were to become our ally again, you’d be spared this tragic fate. I don’t believe for a second you built that Polaric energy generator yourself, because Polaric energy is as dangerous as you are stupid. So why don’t you tell me where you got it and I’ll let you back into our good graces. Or don’t, and find out why I brought a doctor to an interrogation. This offer expires as soon as I walk out the door.
What a hilarious omission. So when I said "We can't go to the Great Forrest, the leaders want me dead" you didn't think it was a good time to point out that the same holds true for Eolen?
When you open your mind to the thought tendrils of a forgotten god, you suffer 1 trauma and become an adept of its cult. You gain access to the following special abilities as veteran advances: The Closing of the Eye: You no longer suffer terror from the supernatural, and can choose to take only 1 stress when you resist mental, electroplasmic, or spiritual harm, regardless of the result of your roll. Glorious Visage: You may extend the thought-tendrils of the god from your own mind to those around you, granting them a vision of its formless form. This is a psychic attack that inflicts 3 stress on you and has an effect determined by your trauma level. trauma 1+: all those who can see you must look away and leave your presence, or be paralyzed with dread. trauma 2+: In addition, you inflict level 2 harm (formless dread) to all who can see you. trauma 3+: Instead of level 2 harm, you inflict level 3 harm “Catatonic”. trauma 4+: In addition, you may also focus on one person who can see you and inflict fatal psychic harm “Shattered Mind”. When you suffer your fourth trauma, you mind is prepared and you ascend to mastery in the cult of your forgotten god. You receive permission to call upon your god to briefly manifest in the physical world and enact its will, at the cost of 6 stress. You receive permission to continue to play your character rather than retiring, with the following restrictions:
Yes sir, engaging course to at warp factor . Eliza deftly plots the course against the chart she previously mapped out, sharing the navigational data to whomever is running the communication's station to share with the rest of the convoy. When she has the Bastion pointed in the right direction, she smoothly engages the warp drive and the ship slides effortlessly into faster than light travel. She sighs contentedly and spins her chair away from the console. I've read so much about the Constellation frame, but this is my first time behind the wheel. She has more kick than I expected, but I...I have some good ideas about her. Eliza recalled some essays she wrote back at the Academy, essays that no one assigned and no one especially wanted to read. Essays with titles like "Stop fighting physics: Everything you teach about momentum arresting is wrong" or "Evasive actions or firing solutions: Why not both?" or "The Cunningham Maneuver: A six point guide." Essays that were returned to her with comments like "Why would you write this?" or "Please promise me you'll never do anything in this essay." A ship with redundant warp nacelles? One that can go from full stop to full impulse in less than five seconds? Oh yes. Yes...she had some good ideas indeed.
Maggie
Steve
Holly
Charlotte shakes her head slowly How can you even think about boys right now? What if we’re murderers? Fatou
Would people like me to take over? The City, you can play. I’m happy to run The Sprawl, I’ve run it before.
Velaris, you score a devistating cut to his midsection. He stumbles backwards, blood seeping from his upper thigh. Awww...f~$! he exclaims, and passes out. It’s still too early for the coordinated murder, and if he dies you’ll have Wardens on your head. What do you do?
I snicker. The last thing you want to do is fight one Conwall, but the point stands. None of us would survive a visit to the Great Forest.
[ooc]Oh dang. I was hoping you DIDN'T notice that...
Ron, I do! Go ahead and resolve. +3 from the questions described. Alignment: "Defend those weaker than you." None of the party is really weaker than I am...but those old dudes in the doorway sure needed rescuing. I'll take it! I didn't touch any of my bonds. I really need to work on that. +4 XP!
Initially disappointed, Barton recognized some opportunity here. Thank you for the information. It's a shame that the Mayfair isn't coming in, I don't think we'll still be in port when they return. Casually, as if he hadn't been planning this at all, he leaned down to the little boy. Your form is strong, to be sure. You're quite the mighty pirate. But...you're dropping your blade a little too much. Leaving yourself open to a strike from above. May I? Unless the little boy shies away, Barton gently lifts his elbow a bit to bring the imaginary blade higher. He looked to the parents, reassuringly. Trust me, I'm sure you don't want to encourage him to take up a blade. Nor do I...but boys will be boys after all. And you'd want him to be safe. He found a sticks of appropriate size and handed it to the boy (unless there were stringent objections). He stood in front of him, like his father had done so when Barton was young, and drew his own sword. [b]Sword fighting is a dance. It's not about strength or force or will. It's about movement. The best way to win a sword fight is to not start one. The second best way is to never be where your opponent's blade is. Follow my movements. He takes the boy through several very rudimentary poses, more designed to spare the boy (and his family, friends, animals bystanders, antiques, etc.) injury as he whipped sticks around in an attempt to "play pirate." He'd never taught anyone before, but he'd learned before and that was close enough for his purposes.
You know...since I likely won't be here when Captain Julian returns and you almost certainly will be...do you think I might be able to buy the blanket off of you?
That's when you multiclass. Something from the cleric playbook maybe?
You don't just slip from the shadows and sock him. You LUNGE from the shadows and bring your blackjack down upon him with a righteous fury. This is a man who is unconscious and is likely to stay that way for quite some time. You're so proud of your deft strike that you hardly notice the last remaining Greyclock drive a blade into your back. That's the bad news. A 5 on a Desperate roll carries with it some...less than great consequences. In this case, you'll take Harm 3: Punctured unless you resist it (or happen to have packed some armor).
I don't k mow what a Sola whatever is. The circus is toooooooouring europe & we stopped there. I hope u r doing good Fatou. They taaaaaaaaaaaalk abut u often, how good you did. I think theyre sad u hat them i mean hate them
I laugh with what little mirth I have left after such a brutal fight. That “one” was mine? I indicate the assorted limbs and heads hewn from the cultossus. Count the legs, the arms and heads, and then divide by five. That’s my score for today.
With my sword hand still free, I slash my trapped hand free and keep hacking away at the beasty.
For many humans living far from the great woods, Elves are something of a boogie man, monsterous killing machines, single soldiers destroying entire settlements. While much of that is exaggeration (for example it takes dozens of powerful spellcasters to convert even the smallest hamlet into a medium size hole in the ground) my unrelenting and precise slashes confirm the most horrifying tales of Elven prowess. If Uxfaris still has a bladder, he’s emptied it.
Dawg you hear voices and set bakers on fire sooooo
Hi crew. I've been struggling a lot with the mechanics around harm. I made a reddit post that details exactly what's bugging me about the way it works. After a lot of back and forth (occasionally with some nasty people) and some clarification from John Harper, here's what I'm proposing. I want your feedback on this. Some harm will be temporary. I'll let you know what harm is temporary when the harm happens (so you can make an informed choice about resisting). Temporary harm will reduce by 1 level at the END of the downtime following the score where you earned the harm. That means if you get temporary harm 2, at the end of downtime it becomes temporary harm 1. At the end of the next downtime it goes away completely. You can still do a recovery during downtime (aided by Dr. Mender) to clear the harm during downtime instead of after (which may be useful for downtime actions where you would be getting a penalty.) Other forms of harm will NOT be temporary. Injuries, broken bones, things of that nature. They won't go away on their own and will need recovery to make them go away. Sound good to everyone?
My first time at the Lake of the Petals. A crystal clear lake in the heart of Stag's Leap's land, ringed by weeping willows, drooping so low that they scatter their leaves onto the lake's surface. In the fall, the whole lake is covered in the petals and children swim in the water one last time before it becomes too cold. It was a particularly peaceful time for me, before my uncle was killed by Ravagers and the relationship between the Stags and the D'Aroniques became strained. Before my sister journeyed into the Blightfields to avenge her dear friend, never to return. Before I set out on my own mission of vengeance, before my climb of purification, before forging my sword. It was a simple memory, but a treasured one. If I could notice its absence, I'd be bereft.
Sorry, I missed your question! Typically someone comes to Kosto Corp. with an issue they need resolved. However, IA is in CLEAR violation of their giri responsibilities to Lews. Even if Alison can't owe Giri herself, the company has an obligation to protect their employees and not enslave them. The consequence for violation is exile or punitive violence, which would certainly qualify the destruction of the rogue AI. If IA has any human leadership, they've either violated Giri accidentally with a mistake that harmed another (Lews) or purposefully unleashed a rogue AI and visited an injustice on society. It honestly doesn't matter, since the consequence for either is disfigurement or death. It doesn't PAY like a private giri restitution, but it's still a vital service provided by Kosto Corp. So yes. Rache can fold in to the current plot line.
I clear a path through some cultists, jabbing Catastrophe through a cultist’s chest.
"Here goes nothing" whispered Rache as she released a (heavily modified) version of the video she recorded earlier. She'd already recorded her narration (prefering to do any narriating into reflective surfaces during the job vs. recording after the fact.) The biggest change is the removal of the scuffle with the...Iconauts? Is that what Na-Zo called them? Something was definitely going on. As the footage uploaded onto the best streams, she queued up a message to Na-zo. <<We need to talk. Craving some German-Japanese fusion. Can you meet me at the Ramen-stein on my level in 30?>>
I kick the door in. It flies open loudly and may or may not be useful ever again. I truly don't care. I'm looking to make a statement. And that statement is "You're proper f@!*ed."
I'd vote for PSI-Run. My start of session move: BOUND: Whenever you begin a session without
I think that Lobby or Sabotage sounds interesting to me for this go-round...
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