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They Only Lack the Light to Show the Way. [Feb. 11th, 2012|12:36 pm]
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[Current Mood |Look! Up in the sky!]
[Current Music |crown me king- more powerful than a locomotive]



Last night ended up being pretty nice. My day was fine, but scattered; I got work accomplished, but had my lunch plans with Dante canceled. So here is a thing-- I've been eating from this lamb cart on 23rd street not infrequently for the past few months. "lambikins," I call it. Anyhow, food carts are always a crap shoot; some of them are really great but most of them are under mediocre. A tricky roll of the dice, but this one was sold & tasty. Then...the guy working there disappeared! Replaced by...sub-standard guy? I had an incredibly bad meal there, once. Ugh, my mouth hurts just thinking about it. Frozen lettuce, lukewarm meat, no! Stop, I can't bear to remember it! Anyhow, yesterday I tried out Rafiqi's for the job of New Lamb Cart. A little bit more expensive, but they added like, fresh ingredients to the mix? Okay, I can work with that. Then when work was over, Terra came over! Well, not right away-- I had to return the Captain America DVD to the library, so we went up to Grand Army Plaza & stopped by the library before walking home. I showed her the Montauk Club, where I got married, & then stopped in at Cocoa Bar to get "Happy First Week of Work" prizes for Jenny. She's been working long days all week, & deserves treats & presents, don't you think?



Then we finally came back to my apartment to watch the All-Star Superman movie. It is a pretty good adaptation! I was talking to Nick the other day about how the best Superman story is the one in your heart, the collective myth-- not any individual trade paperback or comics run, but the idealized Platonic version. I think that is the problem with the way people perceive Superman these days; in the Dark Ages, when the world of comics twisted to get pathetically "bad-ass" & "gritty," writers tried as hard as possible to distance themselves from the insanity of the Silver Age. That is sort of half the fun of Superman, though, as Grant Morrison showed. Superman is a guy who has a key carved out of a dwarf star, who owns a pet sun-eater, who has robot friends & a city full of miniature people. He's Dale Cooper from Twin Peaks but omnipotent. His version of an average day is fundamentally alien & weird...which is why his struggle is to try to understand humanity, to try to be loved by Lois Lane & Jimmy Olson. & I never buy the "Superman is so powerful the only challenge for him is kryptonite!" accusation. All-Star Superman puts obvious lie to that, with riddles, with other super humans from history, with dinosaur men, with evil Kryptonians, with an evil sun, with superpowers potions...I mean, come on. It is called "writing." & again, I'm struck by the flaws of the movie-- no Regan's suicide attempt, the neglectful deaths in the prison, the more ambiguous "killing" of Solaris-- & by the welcome additions. The initial "Superman" added to the four panel origin, & most importantly, the conversion of Lex Luthor. One of the last great labours of Superman. Then I tried to explain "DC One Million" to Terra & then she went home.

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The Strange Guns of Atlantis. [Feb. 10th, 2012|07:01 am]
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[Current Mood |Cassandra Cain Forever.]
[Current Music |crown me king- black bats & golden snakes]



With Jenny starting her new job, things have been a little jilted & sideways this week. Monday was her first day, & when she came home we watched a little bit of Saturday Night Live & split a bottle of wine; afterwards we were still feeling frisky so we went out to the bar & had a drink-- martini in my case, a beer for her-- & just sort of hung out together. That was nice. Tuesday she worked late & so I hit the gym...which wouldn't be a bad pattern to develop? If she works late then I might as well go to the gym, right? I also sort of lost my mind Tuesday & started screencapping Jenny Lewis videos. It started as research for my game, honest, but then it just took on a life of its own. Wednesday was Television Night, which Jenny was able to get home in time for-- she's not like, chained to her desk, she just has a lot to get done. & during the day, Terra & I explored how Korean fried chicken works-- we went to BonChon in Koreatown. It is basically super crusted fried chicken, crossed with buffalo wings. I liked it, & I'll go back. Last night was a repeat of Tuesday, with Jenny working late & me capitalizing on it (with encouragement from [info]ranai not to be a lazy sack) to go to the gym. & I got hotwings for me & Jenny afterwards-- wait, I don't think I did fried chicken twice in a row-- BonChon must have been Monday or Tuesday. Regardless, we watched a couple of sitcoms-- Modern Family & The Office-- & then went to bed. So here we are!
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Spider Elves. [Feb. 9th, 2012|07:36 am]
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[Current Mood |The Spider & The Skull.]
[Current Music |crown me king- hail lolth]



No Lilly & Archie last night at Television Night, but we had Kira & Nino & Olivia instead! A whole bunch of people to hang out with Olivia-- Olivia learned that [info]ranai lives in Spare Oom, & that is pretty hilarious. "You!" she'd point, "go in there!" We drank the Glenfiddich 15 Year Old single malt Scotch whisky that David brought, & the Bulleit Rye Whiskey that I got yesterday. When Kira & Nino & Olivia all headed out-- an hour later than they'd planned to-- we fiddle-faddled around looking for what to watch, & settled on ye olde Doctor Who. We didn't want to commit to the last two Rose episodes, so we skipped ahead to "The Runaway Bride." I had some idea about it because I had found a bunch of screencaps of it previously, on account of being on Team Drow. Seriously, a weird drider spider lady is my scene. I read somewhere someone quipping "can you imagine auditioning for that role?" & yeah, that would be hilarious-- the actress does a lot of really hamfisted hissing & baring her fangs & chattering. Like, so much that it has to be a directorial mandate. Like, over the top, melodramatic vaudeville. It is great, but even better is her terrible sense of humor. Laughing at all of her minions bad puns? So adorable. & then, whiskies drank-- & a can of the Six Point Resin that Danielle bought, which was really sticky, in a good way, with a high ABV-- it was bed time. & I had dreams that Jenny's new bosses peer pressured me to going on a roadtrip with them to Cleveland to go to a party, & then when we were there they told me that Jenny wasn't actually going to meet us there. & so I was pissed & stranded in The Wasteland. Just annoying. The couches were wet & smelled like beer.
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R.U.R. (11) [Feb. 8th, 2012|07:22 am]
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[Current Mood |Shibboleth.]
[Current Music |crown me king- tekel-li-li]

The Story of English in One Hundred Words by David Crystal.

Domesticated,
the Musk Deer sniff, mill about,
exploring the kraal.

This is a fun little book; not quite as hardcore (well, middle-core) as some of the linguistics books I like but rather a fun little word nerd book. One hundred etymological entries-- the hundred that Mister Crystal feels best provide an in to talk about the evolution of the Angle's cant. Some of it is very, very British-- the first word is "roe," as in roe deer. Oh...yeah. I think I know about roe deer existing. Alright then. Still, we lug the history of the language around with us here in America, so there is plenty of room to get Anglophony up in here. "#11 Bone-house" is about kennings, & I can only ever think of kennings & the Norse oral tradition as a bunch of Vikings having rap battles. There is a bit of doggerel in "#38 Alphabet" by Alaric Watts-- the nearest comparison I can find for its rhythmic alliteration is Blackalicious' "Alphabet Aerobics". That took me back to the year 2000. "#27 Grammar" is interesting-- I hadn't made the connection between "grammar", "gramarye" & "glamour" but the spell-craft (pun horribly intended) makes sense. Quick, somebody tell Grant Morrison! David Crystal selects Shakespeare's word for "#44 Undeaf" for the un-prefix, a favorite coining of The Bard's that only leaves me thinking about Sleep No More. In much the same way, talking about "#56 Dilly-dally" for word repetition only makes me think of "timey-wimey" & Doctor Who.

A few word brought me around to, well, the story of my own life. "#68 Dinkum" for instance. Growing up, I played a lot of the roleplaying game TMNT & Other Strangeness, along with its spin-off setting, After the Bomb, in which every animal in the world mutated. One of the sourcebooks I liked a lot was Mutants Down Under, the Post-Apocalyptic Australian Anthropomorphic setting, filled with Aborigines, riding grasshoppers, dirigibles, plastic shotguns-- you name it. That book had a glossary of Australian slang & some Aboriginal dialects, & that is where I first learned about Marban & idioms like "fair dinkum." & then we have a discussion in "#58 Americanism" about what to call that strip of grass between the sidewalk & the street-- I grew up calling it a tree lawn, but The Wasteland is the part of America rife with stranger terms, like "devil strip." & between that & "#51 Yogurt," I started really wondering where the bits of British spelling entered into my writing from. It is largely the end chunks of "o/ou" words like colour. It isn't an affectation; I have consciously decided use the spelling "catalogue" & "dialogue" because I think those endcap "ues" look better, but things like "colour," "glamour," & "armour" just tumble off my fingers, & have for as long as I can remember. Oh & using "ae" up front instead of just an "e"-- "aesthetics" is clearly better; I think that is part whatever weird Anglicized learning I had once upon a time, & part personal preference. A little mystery.
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Wrapped in Plastic. [Feb. 7th, 2012|03:52 pm]
[Current Mood |WHAT OF IT?]
[Current Music |crown me king- jenny lewis is not a p-zombie]











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The Scorpion. [Feb. 7th, 2012|11:44 am]
[Current Mood |Si, Fernando.]
[Current Music |crown me king- jenny lewis is not a p-zombie]



So, I think I went a little bit crazy. I'm totally schoolboy crushing on Jenny Lewis today, even more so than usual. It started off as research for my Oubliette campaign, where I've cast Jenny Lewis as the "actor" playing the Non-Player Character Rise Up With Fists. In the course of looking for some stock photos I accidentally found myself spending a chunk of my lunchbreak nicking screencaps from the "See Fernando" video. I was just minding my own business, when pitter-patter! My heart grew three sizes. The lost passion of youth, fervent intense admiration. Not for nothing, but Jenny Lewis Is Not a P-Zombie, which is more than I can say for mostly anybody else. I mean-- I've always had a weakness for female vocalists & song writers, but Jenny Lewis actually hits along side of what I'm thinking, which is really unusual. Songs like "Born Secular" & "Big Guns" are the closest thing I've got to an anthem anymore, at least since The Pixies sand "Holiday Song." Oh man, I'm crushed, I'm flat from all the crushing.



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The Otaku Brothers. [Feb. 6th, 2012|07:24 am]
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[Current Mood |Kitsune & werewolf.]
[Current Music |crown me king- reynard & isengrim]



There sure was a lot of babysitting Olivia (olivia) this weekend! Jenny & I held onto her so Kira & Nino could get unpacking with a vigor. There is usually an hour warm up period or so-- she doesn't see me often enough to just drop her guard, though perhaps the new digs will mean that she'll see me often enough to just remember me. I taught her how to use the spray bottle-- spritzing her with it was fun, but now I'm regretting teaching her how a squirt gun works! Other than that, we played with the pile of globes I have, & with the computer, mostly. Or well, of the "things" we did; we also ran around the apartment & stared at stuff & whatever other activities a toddler is into. Carrying stuff from one place to another. So that was Saturday & Sunday morning & afternoon-- you can tell it is "afternoon" on account of afternoon naps! I also went to the gym for a good clip both days, putting in an hour & a half each day-- & not a slacker hour & a half either, a full segment of at least nominally pushing it. Saturday night Jenny & I watched Captain America, which I liked, & then on Sunday night we went to Hell's Kitchen to watch the Superbowl at Matt & Katy's along with the crew of usual suspects: & Jocelyn, Justin & Annie, Chris, Kat & Aubin. I rooted for the Giants, obviously, because they are the sport's team from the place where I like, & because they are the sport's team most like a Dungeons & Dragons monster. I was sad that they didn't have the darker coloured uniforms, though. Football is the sport I like the best, because it is actually intelligible; the teams want to throw the ball & catch it, then run. Got it. The scoring is crazy, but that makes it all the sillier: Jocelyn had predicted a game of ten safeties, & then lo & behold the first thing that happened was a safety! Madonna's whole pharaoh thing was pretty good, but I didn't see any memorable commercials. Jenny had to wake up early Monday morning, so we didn't stay for the whole game, & then when we left we took the craziest way home! Jenny tried to act like I was the weird one for thinking it was irregular, but yeah, taking the C to the G is a super weird way to get home from there. Now I'm super tired, though I don't know why, since I wasn't up late & I didn't drink too much.
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Wintermute Soldier. [Feb. 5th, 2012|11:19 am]
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[Current Mood |Hanging out with Olivia.]
[Current Music |crown me king- hyperborea]



I wanted Captain America: the First Avenger to be better than Iron Man 2, & hopefully at least on par with Thor. I knew it had to be better than Green Lantern. I think it met & exceeded my expectations! It wasn't amazing, but I think it was pretty solid. The dialogue was a bit wonky-- Jenny found the obviousness of the quips off-putting-- but I think it was pretty successful. Evans is great, & the Benjamin Buttoning of him is really well done. Hayley Atwell as Agent Carter is pitch perfect in her somewhat anachronistic role. Hugo Weaving is always good, & I thought the Cosmic Cube was integrated really well, folding in into his story with the Nazi fascination with Ultima Thule-- & thus connecting it to Thor. No aliens, though! I was surprised, I thought for sure Hydra was going to be working with the Skrulls. The background gags-- like Zola's first appearance were hilarious to me, too. The movie takes all the good parts from The Ultimates & strips the bad bits; the perfect kind of recycling of mythology, altering it in the retelling in light of context & continuity. Captain America as USO prop is a lot of fun, & so is Captain America as WWII soldier. I thought the origin story bits were great-- the flagpole, the jumping on the grenade-- an artful way of making us like Rogers as the ninety-eight pound weakling. & it incorporates some of the goofier bits of Marvel in a reverent way; Marvel Comics exists in the universe of Marvel Comics, & seeing Captain America comics in the Captain America movie is part of the same spirit. & you know what? Kudos for using Vita-Rays-- I think the fact that it is a period piece makes the use of antiquated science-fiction terminology spot on. So yeah, a lot of fun, & the bookends of the frame story were solid as well-- I'm excited for The Avengers, as this yarn ought to knit together well with Tony Stark & Thor Odinson.
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Mother Mustang, What Must I Do? Answer Me! [Feb. 4th, 2012|10:34 am]
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[Current Mood |Nonhuman OS.]
[Current Music |crown me king- reynard & isengrim]



Oh I don't even know; I feel like a tire with the treads worn down! Partly because I've been frustrated by this piece of work at the office, this reoccurring responsibility that I can't seem to wrap my head around. It hasn't "clicked" yet, but I have confidence it will at some point. I guess the other part is that I have been sleeping badly for the last few weeks; you know, the temperature fluctuates from "the radiator is making this apartment Tattooine hot, open the window!" to "the open window is making this apartment Hoth now that the radiator turned off!" It makes it hard to get comfortable or stay under. So anyhow, I slept in all the way to nine-thirty today is what I'm saying! This week has been a bust for me at the gym; I went four times last week, so I guess going twice this week is fine. But I have to go today for it to be twice! I don't know, I was busy earlier this week, what with my game & Kira & Nino & Olivia moving. Oh, suggested orthography for children-- you don't capitalize their names! Kira & Nino & olivia. That way you know they are tiny children & not full people? The honorifics of Japanese are looking really good about now, huh? Anyhow, the other day at the gym all I could do was a zillion minutes on the elliptical; just exhausted as heck. & now my hips sort of hurt! Stupid flesh, I'm trying to help you, get out of here with your negative reinforcement!

Oh, & [info]aslant wanted me to talk about my self-deprecating comments of being a mind-body dualist. It actually comes out of a comedy video that [info]kingtycoon had as the away message on his chat client. In it, the guy repeats over & over "is it your mind or your brain that wants these things...or is it your body?" & well, as much as I disdain spiritual dualists, I have to admit to having a bit of a sneak for the dualism, coming out of my tendencies towards meme theory & the notion of emergent consciousness. & well, the great anthropological conundrum of behavioral modernity-- Homo sapiens were apes for a long, long time, until all of a sudden about fifty-thousand years ago, they started acting like people. I'm an armchair subscriber to the Great Leap Forward, as spawned by complex language. I don't want to sound like a neurolinguistic extremist, but I think that the ability to use language to network really altered the species on a behavioral level-- switching from tribal altruism toward eusocial altruism. Sort of the kernel of my ethical system, but I digress. This whole paragraph is a muddled digression, but whatever! I am a product of the information age, so I'll use that as a metaphor-- animal hardware, ape firmware & human software. Language allows apes to network & exchange information-- memes-- which are the building blocks that accrete culture & technology, & the things we call people.
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Geri and Freki, Inc. (10) [Feb. 3rd, 2012|07:33 pm]
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[Current Mood |Sleepy!]
[Current Music |crown me king- thoughts & memories]

Northlanders Volume Two: The Cross + The Hammer by Brian Wood & Ryan Kelly.

Flattened red footprints.
Honey made by bees drinking
blood off green clover.

The next volume of Northlanders & the first thought I had on opening it was "did Ryan Kelly illustate The Punisher at some point?" & I guess he didn't-- I might be recognizing him from some other Vertigo comics-- but this book basically reads & looks like the story of the Celtic Punisher. Chris said that he'd liked all of the Northlanders except this one; Nick, who loaned it to me, said they were all sort of of a piece, to him. I...think I agree with Chris. This volume didn't work-- it didn't undermine my confidence in the sagas, but it wasn't that good. I felt like there was an over reliance on visual storytelling-- battles & fights, mostly-- that didn't really come together. Besides that, the twist was a little bit too easy to see coming, & a little bit contrived. So there we have it; that is the story I have to say about this. The best part was the fight with the dogs. It was short, & I rooted mostly for the "bad guy," the pagan detective.
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Iron-Shirt & the Högby Runestone. (9) [Feb. 3rd, 2012|12:54 pm]
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[Current Mood |Gallows god.]
[Current Music |crown me king- istanbul (not constantinople)]

Northlanders Volume One: Sven The Returned by Brian Wood & Davide Gianfelice.

Beowulf, Grendel,
their time is done. A-viking
go the āglǣca.

I hadn't given this a whirl previously, & I'll tell you why: white folks. I mean, the default setting for so much of the literature of the fantastic is quasi-European that I just sort of discount the fetish for Ultima Thule, you know what I mean? It isn't a strong opinion or anything-- I just mean that it isn't something that draws me in. I can be swayed by a good pitch, or a shining review, or a hunch-- or in this case, a recommendation from Nick. Another strike against me picking it up was the back copy-- comparing your protagonist to Conan of Cimmeria is never a good idea, unless your protagonist is Elric or John Carter or like, Fafrd & the Gray Mouser. Those reservations aside, this was a lot of fun! A bloody tale of a Norseman gone civilized in Constantinople, come home for bloody vengeance-- or greedy opportunism, whatever. The story is slathered with machismo, but there are women present in the tale, & not just as objects. One of them--Thora-- is sort of part of the George R. R. Martin tradition of "well, violent patriarchy sure sucks," but Enna is an enfranchised, ass-kicking warrior, & Sven's relationship with Zoe is nuanced in its portrayal. Honestly, that is the reason I'm going to move on to the next one; this isn't just a bunch of bravo & bluster-- though there is that-- but a story, beyond that. A story with actual characters. The tales are complete-- this volume is the tale of Sven-- but I have confidence that the next volume, The Cross & the Hammer, will be good, too. This story was set on the Orkney Islands, which is neat, though I've always been a little more mystified by the Shetland & Faroe Islands. They're like the Svalbard of Britain! Makes me want to go re-read The Ice-Shirt or The Golden Compass. Oh & plus, oh man, Davide Gianfelice's art is scrumptious! Servicable & beautiful. Take a look.



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Squid Pro Quo. (8) [Feb. 2nd, 2012|10:13 pm]
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[Current Mood |We Do Not Sow.]
[Current Music |crown me king- mollusk core]

Kraken by China Miéville.

Architeuthis dux
& Cthulhu R'lyeh
wgah'nagl fhtagn.

This was my pick for Eleven-Books Club, since we had to pick a book we hadn't read & the only Miéville I'd read was his impressive Bas-Lag stuff. This book...was a solid middle of the road novel. Oh, I tore through it & I really enjoyed it, so don't let my bad attitude turn you off. It just was...well, "enjoyable," instead of amazing. It was a novel, not a piece of face-melting literature. Okay, so I had my expectations a little high, I'll admit it-- but in my defense, the name on the cover is "China Miéville" & the title of the book is "Kraken," so I think I'm entitled to having some lofty goals when I crack it open. I will say-- I think it probably makes a good genre intro for the book club. It might be a bit scattered & confusing, but I think it is full of hooks. Let me just say this as clearly as I can: did you like Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere? If you did, I highly recommend Kraken, since they are very much of the same tradition. An occult London, just below the skin of the banal world; John Constantine on the street corner smoking a cigarette. Hell, Goss & Subby-- the bogey men of the book-- are broken out of the same mold as Croup & Vandemar. Me? my favorite character is Dane Parnell, which I guess Jenny finds hilarious. Maybe it is from running a roleplaying campaign, but I just have a thing for characters who have a clear allegiance & a proactive agenda. & yeah, Mister Miéville, the Dungeons & Dragons nerd in me gets it when you call him a "paladin in hell." I know just what you mean.

Listen, there is quite a lot to like about this book; the language, the recognition of Cthulhu without falling into the snare of not shutting up about Lovecraft (the nine-hundred pound squid-faced gorilla in the room), the Church of the Kraken, all that jazz. Heck, the discussion of the fairy chess piece-- which is what they call non-standard & thought-experiment pieces-- of the Kraken was worth the price of admission, alone. & Londonmancers, Paristurges, Warsawtarchs, Berlinmagi...I guess the ones here would be...New Yorklocks? So I don't mean to complain; China Miéville has a way of...well, of Planescaping everything, of taking lots of big ideas & shoving them together & still having them make sense. Talking tattoos & the bungalow where the Ocean lives & magical paper airplanes & what have you. It even hits personal notes-- the formalin of the jars, the backstage access to the museum, all tugging the heartstrings of my undergraduate days. The book is an exercise in London's lingo & accents as much as in taking something silly-- like Star Trek-- & treating it with a totally straight face. My big complaint is-- well, it is scattered. It is the same problem Perdido Street Station has; so much of the book is spent chasing shadows & paper tigers (in one case, literally) & then the end...comes out of left field. I mean-- he lays the foundation. Clearly that guy is going to factor in, & that other guy has serious mental problems that will come back in a big way. It isn't hard to see that, but the particulars aren't obvious. I was talking about it today, saying I was waiting to the end to reserve judgement, in case it tied everything up brilliantly...& it doesn't. It ties everything up adequately. I'm not bothered, but I'm not floored, either, & I was sort of hoping to be floored, if I'm being honest.
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Oubliette Session Twenty-Three: The Friendly Skies & the Fallen World. [Feb. 2nd, 2012|04:16 pm]
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[Current Mood |Nimbers.]
[Current Music |crown me king- leper colonists]


(The Old Ones; Thor concept art by Michael Kutsche.)

Ended up having quite a lovely game on Sunday. After last session in the Cave, which was a very character & emotion driven episode, it was good to dig our teeth into the plot again. James mentioned that he felt like he could see the end of the campaign coming, not soon but on the far horizon, & Sam & Tracey nodded sagely. We've been using a television metaphor, & extending that we talked about being in the third season & seeing the showrunners sign on for two more, but then pledge not to pull an X-Files & over-extend it. I agree, too; I don't think I've got a tight enough plot to wrap everything up as tidily as Avatar: the Last Airbender, but I think I can pull the threads in enough to have as much closure as your Angel or your (controversial) Battlestar Galactica. Anyhow, it was nice to see that we're all sort of on the same page; I'm not planning on ending anything soon, but we've past the half-way mark. That piece said & done, we got into things. A few pieces of note: some wine, some Brussels sprouts & potatoes, & breakfast for dinner-- pancakes & bacon. Soundtrack brought to you by Fantômas, SUNN O))) & Daft Punk. & so off we went, on the journey to The Decadent Kingdom of Arioch!

We started out with our Experience Recap, which has I think moved out of beta testing & now is just part of the tradition. I offered a few suggestions & brainstorms, some of which were taken, some of which were judged unsuitable. Fine by me! I'd informed the Players that I would give them a -3 penalty to any rolls to use the airship-- The Heavier-Than-Air Vehicle Bumblebee commissioned by the Licorice Duke & assigned to insert them covertly into The Decadent World-- out of a lack of familiarity with its complex & exotic functions, unless they took a specialty. Curie Firstlight of the Stormstruck Tower bought "(airship)" for his Mechanics skill, & added a series of anabaric repulsors implants to his legs-- "Repulsors O" being a sort of Featherfall effect. We also had a referendum on whether he deserved a point of Humanity back for his recent turns towards altruism; I said it had to be unanimous between the whole group (including me, with a single vote) & it wasn't, so no dice. Tracey didn't think the airship specialty was appropriate for her Character Blue Glory the Nightmare Lotus, but she DID have an idea for something a little more strange-- a wingsuit, with a sort of flying squirrel webbing, patagium for base jumping. We decided that her childhood Mentor, A Wind in the Door, had worn the suit when he was younger, & that Blue Glory inherited the tradition from him. She bought that as "Relic O," as a one dot Merit. Deciding that Athletics would be the appropriate skill for using it, she bought a third dot in that Skill. Slumbering Heart Dwell in the Blue House had a mess of things to buy; I asked James if he'd bought Baal, the language of Arioch, since he would have learned it when he was there. He said no, & tick, "Language O." After that he asked about Skills his character & zero dots in, & whether he should buy them-- & thus ended up buying "Subterfuge O" & "Brawl O," followed by the second dot of Strength. I have to say, as Player, that is the sort of character I am inclined to make in the World of Darkness-- high Attributes, dilettante Skills.

After all the "previously on..." recaps, we finally got into the nitty-gritty. At Tracey's suggestion last week, I started things in media res, jump-starting things to get underway. I showed them the maps of the Bumblebee & let them stake out their claim, & roleplayed a bit as Chaplin Rush. I just cover my mouth with my hand, & then act like a weasel. While Curie & Slumberheart argue about the nature of duality & an Alpha's soul, Blue Glory & Chappie talk about the missing element from the Arcanum-- the governing body of Aubade currently in an low-intensity war with Anise. They have ranks from One up through Jack, according to the suits of the Tarot, & they worship the Trumps, the gods embodying the Major Arcana...but where are the nobles? The Knights, the Queens, the Kings? Chaplin Rush sees the potential for that in the aristocracy, in the nobles of Anise & the rise of the heir, Miss Glass. We've rolled for airsickness-- Curie (with his "airship" specialization) & Blue Glory (with her feline sense of balance) are fine, but James willingly decides to subject Slumberheart to it, the trope being that the stuffy badass always gets seasick, to sort of take the stuffing out of him. Up in the heavens, they see that The Moon is a quarter bigger, & it isn't just an optical illusion. The Bumblebee leaves in the morning, so that it can cross into Antiphon under cover of darkness, & they fly above the now-daybright firefly graveyards, over fields of blackberry brambles & mists, through swaths of bamboo & scattered koi ponds, then above the pampas grass & the baobabs, & finally the brutalist architecture of the Templars. At long last, sliding below them like heavy omen of evil, they cross the Bridge of Dust & enter into Antiphon.


(Pazuzu; "Arzach" by Moebius.)

The don't pass through Antiphon unmolested! The trip is easy at first, but as the get deeper in, as they near the end of the second day, Curie-- with the augmented abilities of his Gleaner suit & cybernetics-- & Blue Glory the Nightmare Lotus-- with her feral & predatory senses-- they see a shape flapping toward them. Something almost goose-like, something almost pterodactyl-like, with a figure mounted on its back with a long-barreled rife. There is some confusion-- Blue Glory thinks this could perhaps be a messenger & Curie is cautious, but when the bird-thing starts moving in to a position where the figure can get a shot at the cockpit, Slumberheart finally gets them to understand-- Pazuzu! A harassing presence when he & Long Cleaver had entered Antiphon, he'd shot at them until the saint of killing, Raphael, had driven him off with arrows. The Bumblebee is big & clunky while Pazuzu is very maneuverable-- I mention the Palladium vehicle rules, T.M.F & P.P., but no one cares-- & Curie jockeys for position while Chaplin Rush climbs down into the gunnery pit to operate the anabaric canon. It is an air-to-ground weapon, but Curie is trying to get above Pazuzu to see if they can't hit him & his flying creature.

Blue Glory, on the other hand, jumps out of the airship to attempt some Top Gun style sky dueling. I may joke about my game being nothing more than going to fancy parties & exploring weird locales, but I don't know what to tell you, that is pretty action packed. She & Pazuzu go back & forth-- both of them are rolling really terribly! They keep tying with each other, each rolling like, one success out of their whole pool-- enough to stay in each other's grill, but not for either of them to get an advantage. Keeping enough thermals under her to stay aloft, Blue Glory came up above Pazuzu, but he spiraled out of the way as she tucked & plummeted. The Bumblebee was equipped with a skyhook-- a line on a crank with a hook to grab on to from the ground or-- in cases just like this-- in flight. I told Tracey that she had two more turns before she'd dropped below the hook-- she could either try to grab it this turn, & have another chance if she failed, or she could make another attack & have only one chance. She went with aggression! Blue Glory-- whatever mysterious events happened to her in The Savage Lands-- can speak the language of birds & beasts, & she screeched at the fell beast carrying Pazuzu, warning it off, & cutting at its wing in a sort of warning shot. A veritable hit! & like that the vulture-thing takes a dive, a fall, a literal downward tumble. Blue Glory deftly lands on the hook, foot in the loop, & is hauled upward.




(Daemon of Leprosy; Leukodaemon from Pathfinder, photo by me.)

There are worse things in store for the Characters, however, after we take a break to make pancakes. When we came back I started with the old standby-- "roll for initiative!" I figure, we've got an in media res thing going on, lets keep it going-- you come back from the commercial break to a fight already in progress. Something hideously strong is tearing its way into the ship; forcing the plates on the roof apart to drag its diseased carcass in. Birdlike & revolting, the creature is met at the breach by Slumberheat, who is sleeping on the top deck. The distinctive sound of the Singing Sword rings out-- like a struck tuning fork, quantum probabilities dancing & collapsing. Blue Glory is suddenly beside him-- from her hammock to the top deck, clamoring at impossible speeds, like a cat crawling up a wall in fast forward, like the sudden pounce of a predator. A foul miasma surrounds the creature, hanging about it in a cloud like a swarm of maggots, sickening ammonia & filth-- sickness incarnate. They both almost throw up, even full of action & adrenaline as they are. It has-- Sam hits the nail on the head-- an Aura of Revulsion. It is hard to bring yourself to be near the thing-- Blue Glory's clear glass blade scraping across its ribs as it howls in the voice of a woman pretending to be a bird, echoing in the skull-helmet. It lashes out with its claws-- its talons, its hands, its disease ridden nails, its touch of leprosy & rot. It gets a hold of Slumberheart, opening him up along his side, the gash already festering, already gangrenous. Blue Glory heaves her blade up through the thing's body-- lighter than it should be, like with hollow bones, or an old woman withered from a sickness within-- & heaves it out of The Bumblebee. It falls downward, dead, & she mutters a wordless noise of sorrow after it.


(The Obelisk; "Krait Obelisk" by Kekai Kotaki.)

So yes, I gave James' character Slumbering Heart Dwell in the Blue House leprosy. Well, tzaraath, more precisely. I passed him a note: "yeaaaah...you have leprosy. For real." Blue Glory & Curie-- chugging up like a steam engine-- look him over, & I confirm that it is bad. Not a "some extra damage," or even "some Stamina drain," but honest to goodness leprosy. Heck, the rest of my notes for the session have check boxes under them-- "Who has leprosy? How bad is it?" Remember that time I gave Radarless' old character Long Cleaver cancer? Sometimes I worry I am too gentle to my Players-- I never kill their characters!-- but then they bring up the maiming & such, & I feel a little better. They clean him as best they can, & Curie actually hits him with anabaric shock, hoping to use his Agonize power with his Medicine skill to defibrillate his chakras, get his vitabaric energy flowing-- Slumberheart is at Stamina zero & Sam rolls well, so I decide it works somewhat-- switching a dot of Attribute drain from Stamina to Composure, giving him the shakes. Chaplin Rush interrupts them, somewhat timidly, to tell them that they are approaching the Obelisk, the vast black monolith whose shape marks the boundary between Arioch & Antiphon, by a long forgotten infernal contract. As they pass overhead, I ask them about times their Characters have had to make checks against Humanity loss-- reminiscing about Degeneration rolls, as the alien guilt of the Obelisk is almost tangible. With that done, they cease the "Friendly Skies" portion of the adventure & move on into "The Fallen World."




(Wyverns of the Old Ones; "Not Avatar" by A. T. Anderson, photo by me.)

THE BLUE SUN! Passing the Obelisk, they see it low in the sky, a circle of blue fire, hanging on the horizon. A sliver at first, but rising the father West they go. Soon after the party's airship enters the airspace of Antiphon-- they have been flying along the coast, trying to skirt notice while avoiding the Abaia Mind Control Zone & what Chappie calls "The Tempest"-- they are surrounded by winged saurians! Draconic creatures, flapping their creaking wings, lifted by (Curie suspects) buoyant gas bladders & strange organs as much as wings. Riding on them are strange grey figures. Blue Glory can understand their semaphore-- they seem to be assuming that The Bumblebee is a smuggler out of Aubade, & they demand that the ship land, presumably so they can engage in some piracy. There are three of the flying creatures-- wyverns, let's call them, because that is what they are-- & the group decides not to resist. Blue Glory thinks that they must be related to the dam of her destriar, Morwena Nightmare...that they are chimerical creatures like the destriars, but avian & scaly rather than predominantly terrestrial. & so, the follow the great lizard-like creatures & their odd riders out over the water, out to the Isle of Dehn, landing atop a mighty mountain carved into the shape of a colossal elephant. The Leng Arcology, a statue, a building, a city, a piece of the landscape-- all of these, & more. They are met by The Old Ones; the so-called "albino Karnaks" of Arioch.


(Leng Arcology; "Elephant Sphinx" by Cecil Kim.)

The ship coasts in with finesse-- Curie behind the joystick, finding he has more than a knack for it-- he lands the thing "on a cookie," to use his term. Gentle & precise, he sets down on a platform right between the landscape-sized tusks. They argue a little over what order to leave-- Chaplin Rush hiding, of course-- & finally it is Blue Glory, then Curie, then Slumberheart. Slumbering Heart Dwell in the Blue House is famous in these lands-- he's The Primitive; a gladiator, a duelist, a cat's paw for the would-be Queen-- & they recognize him. They being the Old Ones! The Old Ones claim they were here "first," that they are the race from which all others descend. They are a greyish hue, & hairless, utterly hairless-- their bodies instead covered in whorls of tattoo & scar tissue. Slumberheart recognizes the shapes as being very much like the strange crop circles he presses into fields to talk to his patron Trump, The Moon. Those patterns are everywhere, like Feynman diagrams or irrational formulae; the Geometries of the Old Ones! Their famed patterns, their spell-religion, their math-philosophy, all caught up in tesseracts & imaginary solids.

The Old Ones are-- no surprises here-- strange. They speak to Slumberheart in Baal, the language most prevalent in Arioch, but when they learn that the rest of the group only speaks Argot, the spokesman-- he calls himself Shantak-- starts suddenly speaking in Argot, saying "you are fortunate that Yith was here." Alright, whatever that means. They agree to let the airship leave-- Blue Glory signalling to Chaplin Rush, who seizes on the better part of valor & takes off, stranding the party in a hostile nation. They are ambassadors, they make it clear-- & will the Old Ones please inform Carkoon, on the mainland, that they are here, or any of Slumberheart's defeated foes, now his allies among the Adeptus. The Old Ones are only too happy to reply, retorting with-- "do you consent to examination?" The party agrees, & they are led into the Leng Arcology. The rooms are spherical, joined together without hallways-- like bubbles of seemingly random sizes, blown into froth. They are separated, searched, examined. The Old Ones smell the Philosopher's Stone on Slumberheart & on Curie Firstlight, though they call them IOUN. They also are rightfully concerned about Slumberheart's leprosy-- tzaraath-- & the Old Ones stare at each other a while, as if all in deep thought. Bringing them all back together-- they quite like Blue Glory's tattoos-- they discuss how to proceed-- in a group, more Old Ones joining them, but always Shantak speaking to them. They do mention a potential "cure" for Slumberheart-- the Demon Princes of Arioch have methods normally used for life extension, that might work. The longevity treatments involve removing the blood & cleaning it-- but to do so the Prince will have to install a heartplug...


(Map of Arioch, including the Isle of Dehn, by me.)
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This Has All Happened Before. [Feb. 2nd, 2012|07:18 am]
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[Current Mood |Operation Occupation.]
[Current Music |crown me king- kobol]



Did I mention that I figured out how to make our new espresso pot stop whistling like a dying tea kettle? You just have to brew it under very low heat so the pressure doesn't spike. Science! But it took me a half a dozen experiments to figure it out. Patience wins the day, though. Speaking of patience, & the glacial grind of constant effort, Jenny's has paid off, so it seems, so we were celebrating! Killing the fatted calf & all that. It was Television Night, so we cut loose a bit! A bit. Starting with some white wine-- an assuming bottle of whatever, I ended up making [info]ranai chug it when she got home-- we had: Crispin Honey Crisp Artisanal Reserve, a hard cider that was too sweet for my preference, but that [info]fatbutts loved & had her dude James go out to buy two more bottles of; Left Hand Fade To Black Volume Three, that pepper porter that we'd had previously at TV Night & liked; Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin, a little bubble David brought to uncork for congratulatory cheers, Smuttynose Winter Ale, which, wait, did I actually have one of these? & the Brooklyn Sorachi Ace which I associate with Jenny's last birthday & really is just a killer beer. Getting started with Television Night was hard going; we were waiting, then we were cooking-- Jenny made steak & bok choy-- then we were arguing about what to watch, then James had to go out to pick up food...it was a whole thing. We settled on the first episode of the Battlestar Galactica miniseries. Everyone is so young, which makes me feel super old. Even Edward James Olmos seems young, somehow-- but then I just think about Bladerunner & I remember. It is crazy! I don't think the show really hits its stride until the series proper starts up, but oh man! Starbuck! Baltar! & my very favorite, Six! Plus, you know, planets being pounded into rubble with rippling chains of nukes. & cylon Centurions! Knives for hands!
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Great Goblin Hegemony. [Feb. 1st, 2012|07:29 am]
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[Current Mood |Crick.]
[Current Music |crown me king- auto-apotheosis]



Not a whole lot to say about my life so far, as a Cover Girl. Monday was what Monday was. I didn't do anything, ydobyna llik t'ndid I. I came home, & then I saw Jenny, who is just starting to feel better, & I cuddled up with her & didn't go anywhere. It was a hang out! Jenny made flounder with white beans & asparagus & we watched Doc Martin. I can't really explain that show! It is on Netflix instant & worth watching, so I've recommended it to a few lost souls, but what do you even say? I think I've settled on, "it is like House if instead of being a acerbic jerk, he was just an autistic curmudgeon, & it is like one of the guys from Monty Python decided to make it in their old age, I feel like that is the case, it is just sort of charming rather than dramatic. Like it is set in Stars Hollow, where the Gilmore Girls live, but the English fishing village version." Which isn't a very pithy summary at all! I feel like one night, falling asleep, I thought of a good way of describing it, but it slipped through my fingers like so much smoke. It is just so very...BBC? The sort of show that doesn't have much of an American analogue. Monk, maybe? Except, while Doc Martin is a good doctor, his exceptionalism is not preternatural; in the USA, his counterparts all make Sherlock Holmes blush.

That night-- a couple of days this week!-- I've dreamed about a Hotel & a River. I'm hiding out at The Hotel, with others, & it is a relaxed sort of discretion. Like we're on the lam for some white collar crime, but being in an non-extradition country & checked in under false names, we feel like we can relax. The River is different-- it very much reminds me of Endymion, as I'm sort of out of phase with being a person, traveling on a river with a very young girl, the sort of tween that you can tell is going to grow up to be really pretty. She's some genius or whatever, just a huge knot of potential. Those have been reoccurring elements since Saturday or Sunday; on Monday I also had a dream that I was taking a platonic shower with Tilda Swinton, almost certainly because of her appearance on The Daily Show. It was a communal co-ed shower, like in Starship Troopers; actually, is Starship Troopers the only movie that has had communal co-ed showers? I mean, besides pornography, I guess?

Then yesterday-- I feel like it was a wash, because I didn't go to the gym, but it was fine-- I ended up having a fine time. Terra & I went to...The Outback Steakhouse! A bit of backstory; Jenny & I were watching 30 Rock, & Liz & Jenna are at an Outback Steakhouse eating "Bloomin' Onions" & I said "maybe I'll go to Outback Steakhouse!" & Jenny scoffed. Thus my course was set. Jenny doesn't remember that, so it takes some of the comeuppance out of it, but so be it! A "Bloomin' Onion," by the way, has 1966 calories. Oh, & I guess more importantly, Kira & Nino & Olivia moved a block away today! I thought I was going to be babysitting Olivia when I got home, but the move was all done, & I was just in time for the dinner phase at Rachel's. That was nice, too-- a couple of margaritas, a huge burrito, you know how it goes. Afterward I came home, read a little, & then Jenny came back & we split a bottle of wine & watched some more Doc Martin. We didn't mean to drink the whole bottle & stay up sort of late, but it was nice! We ended up on the couch, legs twisted together, talking about the good & bad parts of China Miéville's gender representations in his Bas-Lag books.
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If You Only Knew the Power of the Dark Side. (7) [Jan. 30th, 2012|06:24 pm]
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[Current Mood |Mímisbrunnr.]
[Current Music |crown me king- the rule of threes]

The Book of Vile Darkness by Robert J. Schwalb, et al.

The eye of Odin,
Plucked from Mímir's well, &...NO!
...The eye of Vecna!

I've never been a fan of boxed sets. I know that some people like them-- "oh, maps!" they say, I imagine-- but I like books. Durable books, for my gaming-- hardcover over paperback, please. That being said, The Book of Vile Darkness isn't in a format I particularly like; a softcover, a thick pamphlet, & a map, all in a slipcase. Is this what Dungeons & Dragons books are going to be like? The future of Fifth Edition? I hope not. This is just personal preference; I suppose someone might find the binding...no, you know what? I don't think so. There is a "Dungeon Master's Book" & a "Player's Book," but what? No, I don't agree that having the division is needed. I understand wanting to keep secrets from the Players-- though I don't think there are particularly good ones in here-- but I don't think it is a reasonable solution. People buy a book; sometimes those people are Players, sometimes they are Dungeon Masters, & sometimes they do both. What, are people supposed to buy this book...as a couple? I don't get it. Let's put that aside; I don't like the format, that is the first impression I get from the book, & there you have it. Actually, my second impression, since my first impression is "woah, this Wayne Reynolds cover is sweet." The Worm the Walks! All disgusting as heck, with his diabolical tome-- presumably the eponymous Book of Vile Darkness.

Here is the thing; I know I have exaggerated expectations. The Third Edition Book of Vile Darkness by Monte Cook is like, my favorite third edition sourcebook-- okay, after Unearthed Arcana-- so the new Book had a tough row to hoe. The Book of Exalted Deeds, the Third Edition "good" counterpart to The Book of Vile Darkness, is something I'll curse up & down. "Benevolent" poisons? How about being good means not poisoning people? Cribbing the same mechanics as Corrupt Spells (the same system the D20 Call of Cthulhu used for magic, by the way) as like, some sort of sacred stigmata? Lazy! Add on top of that a bunch of over powered classes & feats & ptew. I spit on your grave! The Fourth Edition Book of Vile Darkness isn't that bad. Sadly...well, like a lot of Fourth Edition products, it is all chock full of crunch, of mechanics & rules, & I just...don't care? I mean, they aren't of so much use to me-- any use at all, since I use the Storyteller System for Oubliette-- but I can still appreciate cleverness. Far more ruinous is all the...philosophy? Listen, I don't need pages on what evil means, nor do I need pages on theoretical ways to integrate vile villains into my game. I would more rather...well, I would rather the book followed the writer's adage: show, don't tell. The old Book of Vile Darkness is slithering with Demon Princes & Arch-Devils, you know? Throbbing & thrumming with the (heavy metal version of) evil. It has feats to give permanent wounds-- Vile Damage is probably my favorite side-mechanic of the Third Edition. The Fourth Edition version...has some traps? Some templates for monsters that...let them do more damage? I dunno, I just don't feel it, you know?

It isn't bad! In fact, some of it is quite good; the magical artifact of the Book of Vile Darkness is great. Backstory on that-- so yes, the title of this book is "The Book of Vile Darkness," but in the universe of Dungeons & Dragons, "The Book of Vile Darkness" is also a magical tome, a relic of evil written by the evil magician turned undead lich turned demigod turned god of secrets Vecna. Fourth Edition did magic items the opposite of good, if you want my opinion-- stripping the weird & interesting bonuses in favor of...well, dealing more damage, & making the math of the game require & assume you have them. Yawn. The one thing Fourth Edition did knock out of the park was artifacts-- the ur-items, the relics of legend & lore-- & that system works great for the "Book of Vile Darkness" as an item. I want to put it in a game along side the Hand of Vecna & the Eye of Vecna! & Themes-- I always like themes, even in Heroes of the Feywild. Some are obvious, like Cultist or Vile Scholar, but some are great, like Disgraced Noble...man, Disgraced Noble, I saw that & was so happy. Still, nothing here makes me go-- "oh dang, dang that is really mean, doing that to a Player...yikes...hahah!" & that is bad, because that is what should be happening. I should be cackling with glee, or at least flinching away. Instead...nah. Nothing.
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Oubliette: The Flight of the Bumblebee. [Jan. 30th, 2012|01:59 pm]
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[Current Mood |Hero on a half-shell.]
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(The Heavier-Than-Air Vessel "The Bumblebee"; Art by Dave Holland.)







I made these hexmaps for the airship in my Oubliette campaign & was charmed by how old school they turned out. The hexes were a bit smaller than I wanted, which I didn't realize till we actually hit the table, but that was no big deal; just made things a little more cramped than I intended, which actually worked out, because it made James say it was "like a submarine" which was the atmosphere I was shooting for. The top is the cockpit, leveraged somewhat downwards, & the quarters for the ship's noble patron & their mount. In this case, that would presumably be Duke Slumberheart, but he ended up sleeping in a hammock in the stables with Rosewater, following the lead of Blue Glory & Herakles Nightmare. Curie slept in the engine room one night but felt guilty & slept with his new mount Fenrir Stormstruck. Chaplin Rush, their pilot, slept in the bunks in the engine room. The roof of the top has plates that can bristle open like scales, & the bottom-most part (marked "G") is the anabaric cannon ("G" for "gun"). Mostly the design is modular, with kitchen elements, tables, hammocks, stowage, all being easy to snap on & snap off. When I brought out the maps I said "I have this weird fussy fear that I'll just end up ruining these with spilled water or coffee" & lo & behold, as soon as I set them down one soaked up a wine ring. S'okay, as mentioned, Leonardo da Vinci's stuff is all covered in wine stains, & I'm exactly like Leo. Almost exactly the same. Katanas & everything. After all, I'm sketching notes & designs about a flying machine, & I'm a frickin' genius. So basically twinsies.
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Danse Ballet Macabre. [Jan. 30th, 2012|07:30 am]
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[Current Mood |Chuckleheads.]
[Current Music |crown me king- they did what now?]



Erf. All I've done is...well, I've done stuff, haven't I? I figure I did. Jenny's been sick so a lot of it as been taking care of her. & quite a bit of afterwork drinks with co-workers. Oh, the one at Dewey's? I gave the place a bad review on Yelp, because it was a bad bar, & the owner responded to my bad review with personal attacks! Which is kind of a triumph, since I guess it validates everything I was saying as immutably true. Sorry, chum! The other night's drinks were for a going away-- & I ate terribly that day! Dumplings for lunch with Pamela, then pizza, then a burrito & then lastly some hotwings? What the deuce? I did manage to get to the gym on Friday despite everything, & to get to the gym on Saturday as well-- well done, sir. I've now moved up in the gym politics world again! Past fist bumps & into "getting a hard time." You know, I go to leave & someone is like "what, leaving so soon? After just an hour & twenty minutes?" A playful ribbing! I reply all indignant, aghast, well I never. David came over on Saturday to make Jenny soup, which ended up being a lovely rabbit stew. Other than that, lots of television. Tilda Swinton was on The Daily Show, & was lovely & alien. What! She said she had "two children. The same age." Tilda Swinton! Earthlings call those twins! It was a gloriously strange interview, in which she urged everyone to move to Scotland & live among the trees. Also, per New Gingrich's statements on colonizing the moon, they 'shopped Georges Méliès "Man in the Moon" with his head & I, for whatever reason, found it riotously funny. Oh, there was the Thursday night line-up, which we watched as it aired-- again, plague-ridden Jenny-- which had Tina Fey dressed up as Liz Lemon dressed up as a Princess Jedi, which was pretty aces. Also Parks & Recreation had a satisfying punch out. We watched John Mulaney: New in Town, which was worth a bunch of chuckles-- Jenny & I have always liked him, I guess because of some VH1 talking head show? Once I saw him in the subway-- before he was remotely famous-- & I pointed at him with "gun fingers" & said "Hey! Funny man!" & then otherwise, Jenny started a new BBC show that is precisely the sort I like-- one where I can pay attention when it suits me & ignore it when I don't feel like watching anything. Doc Martin, & it is sort of a House medical drama, sort of a Gilmore Girls weird town politics, but really neither quite hits the mark. It is one of those "possibly autistic jerk" fish-out-of-water stories, & it has a weird charm to it. It is very British.
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Red Sun of Krypton. (6) [Jan. 27th, 2012|07:56 am]
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[Current Mood |Umbassario!]
[Current Music |crown me king- black bats & golden snakes]

Songs of the Dying Earth edited by George R. R. Martin & Gardner Dozois.

An awful rainbow,
hung beside the bloated sun,
a prismatic spray.

I'm not really a short story guy. I say that, but then there is all this evidence to contradict that statement-- Jorge Luis Borges, Howard Phillip Lovecraft, Robert Ervin Howard, to name just a handful. Still, anthologies aren't really my thing, by & large; it is a format that just takes me forever to get through. Just when you start to get swept up in a story...it is over! & I can see how that appeals to some readers, but for me the novel is the thing. That said, when you have a short story collection of authors who are writing in the setting of Jack Vance's "Dying Earth" genre, it is too good to pass up, especially when a nice chunk of the authors are people whose books you have enjoyed. Jack Vance-- you know Jack Vance, right? He was a big part of the inspiration behind Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun? His rules of magic are the foundation of pre-Fourth Edition Dungeons & Dragons spellcasting system? He's sort of a big deal, yeah. & this anthology-- it is huge, weighing in at 670 pages-- actually lives up to the legacy. Very pleasantly surprised! None of the stories were bad, & some were outright great. Butterfly farming with "Grolion of Almery" in Matthew Hughes' short, the equal parts buffoonery & horror of Terry Dowling's "The Copsy Door," the Solomon Kane-like intensity of Liz Williams' "Caulk the Witch-chaser." The golden witch Lith keeps coming up again & again, most notably in Mike Resnick's "Inescapable" & Phyllis Eisenstein's "The Last Golden Thread." There is plenty of wordplay, another hallmark of the Vancian tradition-- Elizabeth Hand's "Malakendra" is a nice tip of the hat to Clive Staples Lewis' Space Trilogy, & Tanith Lee wisely throws subtlety out the window with the Fabler "Canja Veck." Which, speaking of anagrams, it might be worth noting that Dungeons & Dragons lich-god is called "Vecna" in homage to "Vance."

The bigger names are hidden at the back. Dan Simmons' "The Guiding Nose of Ulfänt Banderōz" is possibly my favorite story in the collection-- I like Derwe Coreme quite a lot (she appears in Lucius Shepard's revenge tale, "Sylgarmo's Proclamation," as well) & I found that even though the characters were almost the opposite of Jack Vance's usual protagonists, the tale still hung as a "Dying Earth" story. You know, I was worried that nobility of purpose might ruin everything, in the wake of Vance's signature idiot-savant Cugel (who cast his shadow over many a story in here). Partly it helps that Simmons can be weird, & has a way with words & letters-- witness KirdirK, the hybrid "part mutant sandestin from the 14th Aeon, part full formed-daihak in the order of Undra Hadra," or Derwe's order of myrmazon's with armor that leaves one breast bare. & oh the art! The interior art by Tom Kidd is wonderful, but the lineup of characters in "The Guiding Nose of Ulfänt Banderōz" is the pièce de résistance. Charmingly, Simmons has littered connections to his Hyperion Cantos throughout-- from a casual Shrike mention & a general worry of lanternmouths, to the more obvious flying carpet-- Dan Simmons loves flying carpets-- & ultimately & perfectly with a poem by an unknown poet-- which is of course, Keats. Because of course it is. George R. R. Martin's story, "A Night at the Tarn House," isn't as overtly connected to A Song of Ice & Fire, but it does display Martin's characteristic love of inns, eels & villains. Oh, & faceshifting assassins. It ends with Neil Gaiman's "An Invocation of Incuriosity," which is...well, if you can imagine what Neil Gaiman would write about, it would be this. A rather bold piece of writing, if you treat the source with kid gloves, but if you approach it in the spirit that Jack Vance would, it work. It reminds me of his Doctor Who episode, "The Doctor's Wife," in a lot of ways. It was a fitting endcap.
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"Pancakes," by Mike Mignola. [Jan. 26th, 2012|08:00 am]
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This! Is Ceti Alpha Five! [Jan. 26th, 2012|07:24 am]
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My week hasn't really been all that crazy, so far. I mean, not that it usually is, but it has been particularly tame. I've been spending my days chained to my desk doing data entry; on one hand, I'm an unstoppable machine, on the other, I'm a juggernaut of...data entry. Mixed feelings, there. & Jenny has been sick, so coming home has been even more lazy than usual. Well, Monday & Wednesday night-- Television Night being canceled on account of sickness-- I went to the gym for two decent work-outs. About an hour & twenty minutes each, but with a bit of oomph to both of them. & lots of weird gym-bro handshakes & whatever; I think because there are so many New Year tourists, people are excited to see "regulars" maybe? I don't know, it is weird. On Tuesday there were some co-workers getting drinks at Dewey's, so I went with Matt & Brian, but we left really quickly. Not before I bought a drink for Laura who helped me immensely with the aforementioned data entry. Seriously though, a Happy Hour that only applies to Budweiser? Seven-fifty for a beer, otherwise? & a bad pour from dirty traps? In a bar with terrible ambiance? How I hated it. So, we left. Bamf! Jenny & I watched a couple of Castle episodes; let me tell you about that show. I think one thing it is missing-- besides its light-hearted charm, where did that go?-- is non-judgement Rick Castle. Like in "Dial M for Mayor," when they run into the phone sex operators. Kate has always been the "oh what, I'm super conservative & snarky!" voice, but Castle used be the one who was like "oh really? Because these girls make bank, safely, & who cares if they do it talking dirty? Heck, I've used phone sex lines!" Alas, that Castle is gone, which is a shame & to the show's detriment. On the plus side, at least on the pick-up artist episode "Till Death Do Us Part" had Ryan being like "what, so what if my fiancée slept with that guy, we had only been dating a month, we weren't exclusive." Anyhow, that is the shape of my week so far; last night was the same, too. Like I said, I went to the gym, picked up some hot wings-- more handshakes with strangers!-- & then Jenny & I watched an episode of Storage Wars. Living large in the City That Never Sleeps!
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Giedi Prime Ready to Wear. [Jan. 25th, 2012|04:12 pm]
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"Bat wing jacket & skirt," by Rick Owens, Fall 2008; "Dress with patent leather appliqué," by Gareth Pugh, Fall 2007.

Today for my lunch outing with Terra we went to the Fashion Institute of Technology to see their "Fashion, A-Z, Part One" exhibit. They apparantly have a Taschen book coming out in a couple of months based on this show-- & I was like, "wait, don't I already have a "Fashion A-Z" Taschen book?" Ah, no, I was thinking of the 100 Contemporary Fashion Designers book I got as a present. It was really nice; I'd never been to the FIT museum & was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to access. Inviting! & cozy; you might say "small," but I prefer "well curated." Which is to say; I am only out on my lunch break, you know? It is the perfect size for a brief excursion. Not to big, but not too modest, either. There was a Geoffrey Beene evening dress with a sort of sports blouse hiding a crystal bodice, I liked that a lot. There was some Oscar de la Renta & a Boudicca (both below) that I just wanted someone to wear, you know? Which is weird, normally I'm all about unwearable concept couture. I was like, who is this, who actually wants to see fashion on actual people? But I did! Don't worry though, mostly I thought about Oubliette, & how the Owens looked space cadet & the Pugh looked like splint mail (both above). & how the Isabel Toledo looked like an awesome kimono fusion & the Rodarte "blood in the water" dress had a nice story to go along with its nice colours. & I really liked the double collars on the peek-a-boo Prada. So yeah. It was a nice time, another secret mission I'd advise anyone in the neighborhood to go on.


"Evening blouse & skirt," by Oscar de la Renta, circa 1978; "Esemble," by Boudicca (Zowie Broach & Brian Kirkby), Fall 2006.
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Meteors or Monarchs? [Jan. 23rd, 2012|07:35 am]
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Oh, & before it slips away, the weekend! Friday I went to an art show, & then Terra & I went to Angie's Going Away Party. Remember at the work party where I met the "German foreign exchange student?" That was Angie, sent over from our German parent company just to sort of see how the American's make the sausage. Anyhow, that was nice-- it was at Rodeo & we sort of ended up pinned at the bar, but there was a surprise visit from Vanessa & Aubrey, & Terra ate one million peanut & scatted their hulls like spent brass cartridges on a battlefield. After that, I swung by Kat's apartment to hang out with her, Matt & Jocelyn & Brian. I don't think they expected me to come, but I carefully guard my "maybe" answers! I am a bit of a flake in that trying to actually get me to commit to a schedule is a pain in the neck, but at least I'm not the kind of flake who says "yes" when they mean "no." I say no most of the time, but my yeses mean yes & my maybe means it could actually happen! Anyhow, I got drunk & ended up hanging out on the fire escape evangelizing for Sleep No More. Saturday I went to the gym-- keeping up with my three days a week-- & I was there for an hour & a half, though I think it was a fairly timid work-out. Or anyways, it was heavy on cardiovascular & I didn't push myself on any free weights or do too intense of a circuit on the weight machines. Then we had the book club meeting in the evening, which went well.

All of which led into Sunday...where I did nothing. Nada. Zilch. Oh, I guess I made breakfast & some snacks-- I have been good about cooking breakfast & have prepared lunch for Jenny & me lately on the weekends, too. Other than that...I played a little bit of Animal Crossing: City Folk, as did my wife. She even had a friend over to visit, from another town! I beat the heck out of some casual flash game, Mega Miner. Then, as the night wore on, people started yelling. Oh, there must be football, I guess. On one hand, I have an amount of local pride, I am glad a Metropolis team is doing well in the sportsman contest...but I sure hate the people in my building who root for them. They just turn the building into a college dorm, full of screeching & yodeling. I'm not not talking about excitement during a clinch play, I am talking about aggravating racket, constantly. I was annoyed, so Jenny & I split a bottle of wine & watched Fringe. "Back to Where You've Never Been" & "Enemy of my Enemy," bringing us up to date with the show. No more backlog of episodes, sadly. Nice to have Jared Harris back chewing scenery as a super-villain. I think the show is missing a great opportunity with Peter-- they should be using this as a chance for competence porn, for Peter to be able to use the knowledge learned in his timeline to just be a creepy wizard in this one. There is a bit of that where he's talking about cutting a guy in half with the portal; more of that, please! Oh & while we are at it; I still say Earth-3, full of evil versions of the characters. & you know how there is Fauxlivia & Walternate? Evil Peter's nickname can be "Repete!" Oh, fine, well, I thought it was funny before bed last night.
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Leo Johnson, Are You Telling Me There's No Santa Claus? [Jan. 22nd, 2012|10:24 am]
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So yesterday was the second Eleven-Books Club meeting, for the book David picked, Novel with Cocaine, also known as The Cocain Romance. It snowed & slushed, & I think that contributed to a significantly lower attendance...though actually doing a headcount, there was only one less person than last time. This crew was me, Jenny, David, Terra, [info]ranai, Carmen &another Jenny. I think that because a lot of these people are in my apartment fairly frequently, it seemed like less than last time, where there were people who'd never been over. There was a bunch of wine-- white & red-- & David got a bunch of groceries, all the important food groups. Chips, dips, cheeses, yogurts, fruits. We actually started up recapping the first club meeting because more than half of them hadn't made it to it but had actually bothered to read The Big Year anyhow. Both remind me of Trainspotting-- Novel with Cocaine because of the obvious drug connection, & The Big Year because of the actual hobby of trainspotting being similar to birding. Carmen was last to arrive & when she did we started in on the book in earnest. Scoreboard: Danielle hated it, I disliked it, Carmen disliked it but liked certain lines, Terra, David & other Jenny fell somewhere in the middle & my Jenny liked it. I mean-- for me, I still liked the part where Vadim & Sonya meet, & I like the meta-text payoff of "Burkewitz refuses." Other it quotable, which is fine-- there are certainly bits of it that were well written & well translated. Everyone bonded over not knowing what "rodomontade" meant, even though we are all word nerds. We closed up talking about future books, rules of thumb for selections, unrepresented genres, diversity of authors & protagonists, that sort of thing. Oh! & in the middle of everything a bookshelf broke, started leaning over, so we had to do emergency triage, clear everything off it, tighten the nuts & bolts, & put everything back on it. Stressful!
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The Occidental Occultist. [Jan. 22nd, 2012|08:02 am]
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A fun couple of dreams, very much Big Trouble in Little China mixed up with Grimm's. The first discreet moment I can remember, when dreams crystalized from an ocean of unattached images into an iceberg of narrative-- there's more going on underneath in the subconscious than you can see on the surface, ne?-- was watching a bunch of monks with halberds. You know, one of those shaolin halberds that have all the different prongs going out, the crescent moon sickles, the kris blade-- these were lightning monks worshiping something more strange than Thor, Indra, Susano-o or Zeus. The polearms were the personification of the bolt; they were on very long shafts & the monks did all sorts of acrobatics & flourishes with them, dozens of them in a dance-skirmish. So I of course stole one. We were on the hunt & I needed a weapon! I ended up unscrewing the blade from the staff, tucking it into my belt-- a source of stress, hiding it there without being stabbed-- & used the shaft as a quarterstaff, as a walking stick. That was what the characters all did in on of my campaigns. I was at some sort of Pan-Asian flea market, browsing around, but looking for something-- some ritual, some monster, some relic, I don't know what. There were other people in the market looking for the same thing, & looking for me-- rivals, minions, enemies, a whole plethora. A young woman grabbed me & pulled me aside from the bazaar-- I thought I was going to have to fight her, & fumbled like an idiot at my belt, but instead she gave me a knife. Not an ancient knife, but a slick, modern minimalist fighting knife. Something that would actually be useful in a fight. I tied it to my leg in a sling like Han Solo's blaster holster & tried to play it cool.

There was a part with a car. Oh, the mad man or the possessed monster or the evil genius or whatever-- I remember now! We were in the future, & the stores were practicing with biometrics for theft prevention. The store had a machine that would monitor you, based on a datastick on your keychain; you had to leave your keys at the door. The enemy-- a guy halfway between Clancy Brown & Doc Brown-- had somehow taken control of the machine & overloaded it, so that he could use your body's signature to kill you instantly. He did it to someone to make a point-- & again-- one he exploded in a riot of meat & blood & the other he just stopped, just turned off. It was a weird hostage situation. His wife was there-- half hostage, half accomplice, who could say? I told the guy that I hadn't left my keys; that my roomate & I had switched keys since I had to borrow his car, & since my roomate was out of range, there was nothing he could do to me. & I beat him to death with the fire extinguisher before he could test my statement. Or well, I hit him in the head with it, & a bunch of teenagers who had been trapped ran in & started kicking him & punching him, too. I told the wife she had to come with me, & I got the keys I was using & we went out to the car. She said it was fast thinking, bluffing him like that; I said I never bluffed. But I had bluffed, I'd lied for the split second of advantage.

The headquarters that I worked out of-- as a sort of monstrumologist, a troubleshooter, a dabbler in the occult, whatever-- was a Chinatown herbalist. I don't know why my dream was so Asian in set & scene; even the guy's wife was an Asian woman. Oh, probably because of the Mongolian art show! The herbalist wasn't some Eighties movie cliche, he wasn't some magical orientalist caricature with a mogwai hiding behind the counter. He was a homeopath, an acupuncturist! I knew that I'd met him in an earlier "case," & he had a reoccurring problem that was easy enough to deal with, but he'd arranged payment for ongoing services by leasing me space rent free. Like, I had to periodically refresh the poltergeist wards or something. There was also a man who sold potions, snake oil-- he'd been an earlier client & the contact with the supernatural had destroyed his life. He'd had nowhere to go so the acupuncturist let him start selling his potions out of the shop & they'd done so well that the two had gotten into a partnership. Which was good, because there was a third guy, now-- some petty businessman from the previously mentioned Asian swap meet, someone who had had their livelihood & relationships ruined by casual contact with me on the job. Some sort of John Constantine casualty. I convinced the herbalist to take him on to run the books; he was an accountant, & I figured that having a club of people who'd made loose contact with the otherworldly could make a good sort of Scoobies gang.
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Oubliette: If You Only Knew the Power of the Dark Side. [Jan. 20th, 2012|04:19 pm]
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So lately I've been grappling with the question of cost, of resource management. Questions like whether I need a new Attribute for Potency, or a new pool for Character Traits. That might all be some fairly advanced stuff, with a narrow window of interest; I want to talk about the philosophy of game design, but I end up talking about my Oubliette campaign, particularly. To sort of break out of that mold, I have had a particular nagging thought that I figured I'd ruminate on. It isn't actually any more accessible-- in practice, I think of it in World of Darkness terms-- but you could carry through the logic to other systems. I'll try to keep my notions generic, or at least to toss out parallels when things start getting a little big too specific.

This sort of goes along with the idea of Marks that I mentioned previously; long term consequences for contact with the supernatural. Or the paranormal, even, if we go with my proposed nomenclature. What I have been thinking about is-- levying serious costs against Players. Vampire: the Requiem has the most notable one-- it costs a dot of Willpower to make another vampire. Not a point-- a chunk of the attribute. In in Dungeons & Dragons terms, that is like permanent attribute drain. Or is it? You can buy it back with Experience-- eight points, which is a little less than three adventures worth-- so it is more like Magic Item creation, or spells with Experience Points cost, isn't it? Which is a shame-- I've never liked "Experience Damage" as a magic system, though I will admit that it might keep wizards rare at the table. What about actual Attribute Damage, though?

I just keep thinking about possibilities, & fiction where those have played out. Permanent damage to Health-- or a permanent lower of Hit Points-- to reflect the rot of the Emperor in Star Wars? With corresponding benefits; guy can see the future & shoot lightning. A permanent loss of Humanity? Well, first Humanity would have to have some in-game value for that to really be compelling, but the struggle with hubris & inhumanity is fine & dandy. Permanent looses of Willpower are fine-- I tested it on Balthazar in my last campaign-- until you start coupling it with using Willpower as your main resource pool. Then it gets wonky...though half-crazed paranormal powerhouses can lend a cool Akira vibe. The more I think about it, though...it gets wonky. Maybe an easier way of approaching this is to consider reverse Experience? That is, tempting a place with lichdom, slowly selling off their Health dots for Experience points to buy powers? A good road to the Dark Side, maybe? Temptation!
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Lords of the Cemetary! [Jan. 20th, 2012|02:24 pm]
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"Citpati (Lords of the Cemetary)" by Gankhuyag Natsag, also known as Ganna.

For lunch today, Terra & I went to the Tibet House to see the art exhibit "Mongol Visions: Winged Horses & Shamanic Skies". Much better than the sort of boring "Otherworldliness" show we went to last week. I liked "Tselmuunee" by Nurmaa Tuvdendorj quite a bit. The symbology in Soyolmaa Davaakhuu's works reminded me of Owl Cave in Twin Peaks. Uranberkh Magsarmaa "River Balj" piece was really fantastic, too-- sort of had a cave painting look to it as well, come to think of it. Not to sound condescending about it; just that there was a very old school feel, a studied attempt to evoke the distant past. Bulgantuya Dechindorj-- I'm sorry, but I just...can't stop thinking about Star Wars: Episode One when I look at your work. I know, I know, George Lucas appropriated your cultures fashions, your well goes to a deeper source. I just bring my preconceptions with me, sadly. Far & away, Gankhuyang Natsag's work was my favorite; masks & sculptures that really just dazzle. The physicality, the reality of the pieces-- they aren't just meant to be left on a shelf, they are meant to be used, to be costumes, to be pieces of culture. I was really excited about them.
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Return of the Space Gods! (5) [Jan. 19th, 2012|12:13 pm]
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Pathfinder Bestiary Three by Paizo.

Izanami-no...
Yomi. Kami. Mikoto.
Grasscutter's true queen.

We are in a fellowship, we gamers, that share lots of overlapping mythologies. Personal mythologies, historical mythologies, religious mythologies, cultural mythologies. Monsters provide an interesting entry point to those; they are a window into the inner workings of the hobby, they are a barometer of how things stand. Pathfinder has always kicked ass in that arena-- remember all the Classics Revisited series?-- & this book isn't an exception. Reading it on the train last night, there were moments where I literally pumped my fist in the air out of excitement. Some of that exuberance you can chalk up to the martinis Pierce fed me, but the rest is pure teratology. On a side tangent-- one thing Dungeons & Dragons Fourth Edition did well was monsters. Having a number of powers for each critter makes them far more engaging than just a mess of hit points. Bestiary Three has learned that lesson well; you don't see a lot of stat blocks unadorned with bells & whistles. Special powers make monsters cool, in a way that having a high AC or doing lots of damage doesn't. Oh & the art? I can't see its praises enough. Take a look at the cover-- an undead knight, a cyclops & a bunch of kappa? Awesome. So awesome. Well done, Mister Reynolds.

Bestiary Three draws from a wealth of sources, & not all of them are the typical sort that you'd expect. Take the asuras & the rakshasas-- gosh, I wish I'd had these back in the last Third Edition campaign I was in, Mike's Oisos game. I played a Zoroastrian inspired astral deva, & these would have sure come in hand. I gotta tell you, I'd much rather see a maharaja rakshasa or a asurendra asura than a pit fiend or balor-- they have oodles more character than some generic hulking demon. Same thing goes for the Miyazaki-like kami & the oni; I really like seeing non-Western cosmologies well supported. Having kappa, baku, tanuki (minus any anatomical...er...emphasis), jurogumo & a shinigami (with face-meltingly good art) is fun, but the spiritual angle is more essential. It could support a non-Western setting. & when I say non-Western, I mean non-European...if you were running a game with elements of the Weird West in it, there is stuff for you, too! The Pale Stranger, &...a cannon golem?! Oh hell yeah...& then the next entry after "golem, cannon" is a fossil golem with Tyrannosaurus rex skulls for hands! That is what I'm talking about.

The first few monsters in the book aren't that great-- animals with shark fins, & such fodder-- but as soon as you get to the archons, it gets banging. An angel that is just an...orrery? & I was just talking about how I like my angels to be creatures of blood & iron & fire. There is the thalassic behemoth, which is just Moby Dick with lobster claws. A vulnudaemon looks like a creepy little Samara with a slit throat...& the bleeding gash has teeth! What. The contract devil is the above mentioned stereotypical diabolic figure...with really long horns all over his body, draped with Faustian paperwork. Pathfinder does good with fiends. Another pool, another legendarium that we gamers share is...well, the game itself. Some of these things can be...silly, but Paizo has done a good turn & made them a little less goofy. Two of the redeemed misfits are here: the flumph & the wolf-in-sheep's-clothing. If you want to get a little more Bas-Lag in flavor, there is the octo-merman caecalia & the garuda. & the lunar naga, for that matter-- it doesn't have a Bas-Lag connection but it sure seems like China Miéville could have invented it.

An unofficial tradition in gaming has been to take individual monsters from myth & make them into an entire species. Thus you get plurals of formerly proper nouns, like "medusas" & "hydras." Bestiary Three give a clever turn to this in a few entries, most notably norns-- they'll cut your thread!-- & humbabas. I really like Humbaba, & after rereading Gilgamesh I have thought about Humbaba's "aura" a lot-- & making it a Prismatic Aura is a wonderful touch. On a related note, I like having a section for sphinxes-- my biggest phobia, actually-- but I with the shedu & the lammasu were in that section. Come on, they are basically the same thing. My brain's fear center says so, anyhow. & the book finishes up strong. Bee people-- I remember rubbing my gums with bee people honey in [info]kingtycoon's game! Hektonchire! Oh, my favorite! & the jotund troll! Like a perfect little hektonchire sidekick, monstrously wrong in head-count & proportions. Of course there is a penanggalen, of course there is. Porcupines & pukwudgies make me think of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles & Other Strangeness, in a good way. In the best way. As if there was a bad way to think of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. There is the obligatory Lovecraftian horror, the Great Race of Yith. Plenty of Lewis Carrol references, too, from toothsome bandersnatches to scaly jubjub birds. & of course, tzitzimitl, portrayed here as fifty foot tall Aztec robot skeletons that travel through space to "shut down worlds," & crackle with kirby dots & negative energy. They shoot lasers from their eyes & can cause an eclipse.

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Harry Potter & the Golden Globes. [Jan. 19th, 2012|09:51 am]
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Pros: Tilda Swinton is super wonderful. I bet she has a pearl handled pistol under that coat.
Cons: Tilda Swinton isn't Cate Blanchett, which is the only bad thing I can say about her.



Pros: That Gucci Premiere dress looks like Alexander McQueen fanfic.
Cons: I hated Evan Rachel Wood in True Blood a whole lot.



Pros: I really like that almost sea foam green & the cut of that Prada.
Cons: I want to like Zoey Deschanel but I can't quite.



Pros: Emma Stone is basically fantastic, & her eyes are like "woah, damn."
Cons: That Lanvin dress is fine, but really, Emma Stone could be wearing any C+ dress.
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Be Excellent to Each Other. [Jan. 19th, 2012|09:29 am]
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GREETINGS, STARFIGHTER.
YOU HAVE BEEN RECRUITED
BY THE STAR LEAGUE
TO DEFEND THE FRONTIER
AGAINST XUR & THE KO-DAN ARMADA.
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Remember the Tooth! [Jan. 19th, 2012|07:05 am]
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Spoilers.
I don't know that I've ever fully articulated my theory about the ending of Twin Peaks. It is always interesting to map disconnected works: I've often said that the second season of Twin Peaks is required as exegesis on the first season, but the film, being a thing apart, shows the elements that stick across media. On to the theory! In a nutshell: I agree with the theories involving time travel. Not in any way as bald or crude as most time travel stories, but I think the evidence is overwhelming in that regard. An old Dale Cooper in the first dream. The backwards talking-- though that is also just a great short-hand for The Uncanny. The scene with Agent Cooper & the cup of coffee-- solid, then coffee, then tar, all while the Man from Another Place rubs his hands, implying agency. Then, ultimately, in Fire Walk With Me, Annie being with Laura Palmer, Laura dreaming about Agent Cooper telling her not to take the ring, & the final scene with Laura, The Blue Angel & Dale Cooper. A certain sense of non-sequential temporal shenanigans is at work, clearly. So, that is the first component of my theory. The second piece is the Blue Angel.

She makes me think of a couple of things-- was Lynch working out some serious religious issues, or something? More importantly, isn't this clearly an inhabitant of the White Lodge? I mean-- I'm personally a proponent of the view of angels as monstrous, as wheels of light & snakes with wings & many faces, of flaming swords, pillars of salt & of babies strangled in cradles. Supernatural forces that have to start their conversations with "fear not," lest certain poor shepherds loose their marbles entirely. That is beside the point-- we see the angel in Fire Walk With Me as a spiritual intercessor, as a cinematic shorthand for a being of pure good, videlicet the White Lodge. Point three-- well, we all know the Good Dale is trapped in the Lodge, & the Doppelganger gets out. Now, watching the finale, we see Cooper run from the Scary Laura & run from his own double. I would say that counts as failure, as imperfect courage-- not confronting the Girl You Couldn't Save & not confronting Your Own Dark Side is totally a loss to the Dweller on the Threshold. That being said...well, Fire Walk With Me supports a reading of the film where Dale Cooper chooses to remain in the Lodge, in order to use elements from the White Lodge to go back in time to save Laura Palmer's soul. He clearly acts as an intercessor in the final scene, as a bridge. So yes. I think Special Agent Dale Cooper found an Angel & traveled back in time to save Laura Palmer's soul.
End Spoilers.



So that was a thign that happened; Terra came over & watched Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, finishing up our viewing of what is undoubtably my favorite television series of all time with one of my top five movies. Also, last week we went to an art show called "Otherworldliness" at the Michael Rosenfeld Gallery. It was...actually pretty boring, I don't know what to tell you. Still, being in the habit of going to art exhibits on our lunch break is a good one. Oh & Jenny & I went to the Zlatne Uste Golden Festival last Friday, but I was tired & crabby & we didn't stay very late. Still! It was in the Grand Prospect Hall! Which is exactly like you'd imagine it is from the commercials. Pretty great. I don't know what else has been happening. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. I watched an episode of The New Girl & found myself laughing. I would really like to like Zooey Deschanel. I really liked her in Elf, I just sort of...blaming her public relations team? She's been marketed as twee & indie, & the problem is...she's actually twee & indie, & so it just ends up doubled up & saccharine. I mean, when she was on that Elvis Costello show, Spectacle? & she was so nervous about singing with Jenny Lewis? That was endearing; you don't have to work so hard to make her endearing, marketing team! That just makes me hate her a little.
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SOPA/PIPA BLACKOUT. [Jan. 18th, 2012|09:50 am]
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Oubliette: Armor & Encumbrance. [Jan. 17th, 2012|01:59 pm]
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(Opening scene of Star Wars with Ralph McQuarrie's concept designs, by Daniel James Cox.)

Okay, time to keep thinking about armor. The core of the problem is that the regular World of Darkness is a modern day setting; the game is built around the assumption that people will be shooting guns at you, with maybe a little anachronistic swordplay here & there. Since Oubliette is a Weird Fantasy campaign, that entails certain tropes, pulling from both the Fantasy & the Science Fiction genres. You know, chainmail & mecha. I have to put some thought into making it work. In the last campaign it was fine; Sam's character just wore a chain shirt & that was that. I still like having the default as no armor; I'm only obsessing over the issue because I want to find an elegant solution. Well, that, & because in the current campaign Sam's character has an exoskeleton & Radarless' character was kitted out in ō-yoroi lamellar armour, which makes it manifestly relevant. So yeah, I've been stewing over it. Kicking the tin can around, not to be overly intending with my puns. Just sort of brainstorming.

First thing first: doing anything other than having Armor increase Defense is silly. Clearly it should provide a Defense bonus; that is the obvious, minimalist, elegant method. Anything else over complicates it. Which brings me to the drawbacks of armor. I still admit that I have a fondness for having Armor just penalize Willpower; I think that the biggest problem with armor is a sort of constant discomfort, an awkwardness & unwieldiness that fatigues & frustrates you. Thus: Willpower. I think that might not be as intuitive to some people though so I'm not married to the idea. The other notion I've been kicking around is Encumbrance. I've never really liked Encumbrance rules; I think they generally fail, being reduced to bean counting or abstracted to a point where you can ignore them. Best case scenario, I think, is when people either carry everything in a backpack & drop it (as a free action) at the start of combat (as my Characters have been wont to do) or to have Characters who get a wagon & just carry all their stuff in there (as my current batch of Players tend to do). Both of those are fine measures, but don't address the core of the issue.

I've got a notion for Encumbrance I've been mulling over, based on the World of Darkness damage system, of all things. See, I like their damage track system: Size (five, for humanoids), plus your Stamina. Fill in the bubbles-- on a scaled from six to ten-- & then the boxes below it are your health track. Penalties accumulate as it fills. Easy. I've always been bothered at encumbrance systems for not taking things besides weight into account; I mean, there are a reason that short swords are popular in history, & that reason is "because people keep tripping over these stupid long swords." I just think-- well, as far as abstractions go, giving things a "Encumbrance Rating" & filling that in on a short bar with hash marks is a pretty easy way to go that might actually accomplish that. Now, alright-- some people will argue that no encumbrance system is good, because the very act itself is just micromanagement. Maybe! I just think it might encourage people to kit out their characters responsibly. It isn't really a problem I've encountered with Oubliette, but considering that the first campaign had James' character Garrick as a dreadnought of black iron, & the current game has Sam as a cyborg in power armor, that having a solid system in place might be a good idea.
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