Tales from a Distant Galaxy

Intro

Now that the Kickstarter for Boldly Go! has finished, I am hard at work on some other projects. One of these projects is tentatively titled A Distant Galaxy, which uses roughly the same rules system as Boldly Go!, but which is set in a world reminiscent of another popular sci-fi franchise.

To be fair, it is actually set in universe that is a nice mélange (if you will) of several sci-fi franchises. Which means that I have either avoided lawsuits or have invited all the lawsuits.

The draft rules for A Distant Galaxy have been finished for quite a while now, and my first playtest of the game was at Metatopia 2019. I haven't been able to get much playtesting on it since then, because of the pandemic, but yesterday, some friends of mine had openings in their schedules and we were able to sit down for a bit of the old virtual gaming!

It actually went very well, and the rules seem to mostly work. Things went well enough that the players wouldn't mind playing again, which is always a heartening thing to hear. 

Some highlights on the game, as well as some notes on the setting, are below.

The Setting

Humans spread out across the galaxy ages ago, aided in their endeavors by their little robot friends. Some humans were able to keep their DNA strands relatively intact over the thousands of years that followed. Many couldn't and wound up genetically adapting to new situations and environments. They're still human, they just look a little bit different.

Explorers attempting to travel past the galaxy's edge returned with tales of a strange "frequency" that, when attuned to, allowed practitioners to draw upon the latent energy that permeated every lifeform in the galaxy. Practitioners of this discipline soon came to refer to the frequency as the source of all life, and so dubbed it, unimaginatively, "The Source."

In time, the humans and new humans all united into a vast galactic empire, aided by their robot friends, their advanced technology, and their mastery of the Source. Some of the most prominent users of the Source were the legendary Solar Knights, who were held in very high acclaim until about a century ago. At that time, it was learned that the Solar Knights, who desired peace in the galaxy, had been subtly manipulating humanity with their Source disciplines in order to promote certain behaviors and quash others. When they learned this, the people revolted, disbanding the Solar Knights and driving them to the far corners of the galaxy. 

Though the people gained their freedom, many were much less altruistic when left to their own devices. Corruption and avarice spread.

Such issues might have been survivable were it not for a new production line of robots known as the "Automata." On the first day of their activation, they went rogue, murdered the Empress of the Galaxy and her court, and destroyed the Imperial Capital World of Kanolphan. The imperial citizens rallied and, after a long and costly war, drove the Automata to the furthest edges of the galaxy.

In modern times, the empire is rather quickly coming apart at the seams as warring noble houses fight for political control and scavengers pick at the fringe systems. Robots, once the companions of Humanity, are now widely distrusted for the Automata Betrayal and are no longer manufactured.

The galaxy is becoming a wilder and more dangerous place, where adventurous people, deluded citizenry, and criminals struggle to live and survive as the cracks in the infrastructure widen.

Dramatis Personae

Rex Manoo

A true human mercenary who is incredibly sexy and has a large fan following.

Lyra Sylph Erevan IV

A new human noblewoman from an ancient world of Loud Hedonists. One of Rex Manoo's biggest fans.

Liriak Khron

A true human from KolVor, a peaceful core world devoted to learning. She is a brilliant, but constantly tired pilot. She was hired by Lyra in her quest to seek out and befriend Rex Manoo.

Ket Tunan

A new human shuttle driver from an apocalyptic world of factionalized biologists. He wound up involved in the gang's previous adventures and who is just along for the ride.

Highlights

Our heroes are eating in a space diner on a spaceport on a lonely moon. They have been there for some time while their ship was undergoing extensive repairs. They didn't have the cash to repair their ship themselves, so they borrowed money from a Very Nice Lady.

An orange-haired gentleman with an eyepatch saunters into the diner and introduces himself as a business associate of the lady. He says that, in return for the ship repairs, the heroes will take a shipment to Algo X.

PLAYERS: What's in the shipment.

GENTLEMAN: You don't need to know that!

They eventually agree. The gentleman departs.

KET: I *think* that man was a *criminal!*

LIRIAK: Really?

Meanwhile, Rex goes over to the spaceport kiosk to get some additional provisions.

REX: I think I'm gonna buy some handcuffs.

LYRA: Oooh, ReeeEEEEeex. I didn't think you were into that.

REX: Oh. Uh. I also buy some throwing weapons.

ME: You get three kunai in clamshell wrapping. They're a genuine "SPACE NINJA" product. The mascot is a ninja in a space helmet.

The heroes get into space. They are pursued by three mysterious ships, which they manage to elude thanks to Liriak's skillful piloting. Once they're sure that they've lost their new friends, Rex decides to open the box. 

ME: You see a robotic arm coming out of the box. It is currently grabbing Rex Manoo by the throat and lifting him off the floor.

REX: Aargh! Gurgle!

A fight ensues! Lyra fries some of its circuitry with her stun pistol and makes it drop Rex. Liriak attunes to the Source, gives herself incredible strength, and tears the robot's arm off. Rex decides *not* to throw a grenade and instead shoots it with his blaster rifle. Ket gets in a couple of good whacks with his powered wrench!

During the battle, Rex's player loses connectivity with Discord!

REX: I'm back, did I miss anything?

ME: I don't think so, no.

REX: Okay. The robot that I shot. Is it still a problem?

ME: Thankfully, no. However, it seems as though the other pair of mechanical hands is...

REX: OTHER pair of mechanical hands?!

ME: Okay, so you did miss something

Call of Cthulhu Part Three: October 3, 1925

Those of you who have played (or read) Shadows of Yog Sothoth will notice that I have taken certain liberties with the text. Such as setting it in New York instead of Boston. This required a lot of hasty rewriting of the game’s text props on my part. This will also not be the last time that I take liberties with the game to suit my needs.

October 3, 1925

The game begins with a slight retcon. Not only has Vincenzo Bernouse been invited to the Silver Twilight Lodge, but so have Dr. Reese Black, Judge Ezekiel Putnam, and Mr. Kane Eastman. Each of these individuals has been permitted to bring a “plus one,” which was my way of getting the entire party to go.

Meanwhile, across town, Mikhail Dimathias, who is investigating the disappearance of his friend, James, finds an invitation to the same get-together. The invitation is accompanied by a note from one Johnathan Scott, the Noble Philosopher of the order. The note, written in stilted and archaic language, asks James Clark, Esq. to pass the invitation along to a man of “impeccable social standing and moral fiber.”

Vivian, concerned about this random social club she’s never heard of before, decides to do some research. She discovers that the Order of the Silver Twilight is not on any social registers anywhere. Ron, meanwhile, cases the joint itself, and finds it to be a nice, if still under construction, building.

On the night of the soiree, everyone arrives at the Lodge to find that it is staffed by very big, very dangerous-looking men who, despite their very nice uniforms, would not look out of place in a butcher’s shop or on a dock somewhere. Ron also notices that most of them are carrying concealed weapons. 

Vivian Gets Split from the Party

Vivian is immediately turned away at the door, because a) this is a club for boys, b) she is a girl, c) it is 1925. Vincenzo, upon seeing this, offers to forget the whole evening and just take Vivian home. She convinces him to stay and agrees to be escorted across the street to the Silver Twilight Auxiliary hall, where all the ladies who are members of the organization hang out.

This turns out to be the better option. While the men sit around, smoke cigars, eat, and talk about boring subjects, the girls get sozzled, gossip, sing, and listen to the old Victrola. Viv quickly befriends Deb Walsh, a woman about her age who seems to be the leader of this particular group of ladies. There is some discussion of what the ladies are going to do for the upcoming Halloween party, an event that is partially open to the public.

At one point, Vincenzo, after having been insulted by Barry Pollard (see below), comes over to check on his daughter. The ladies of the Silver Twilight Auxiliary all react to this quite favorably.

During the evening, Viv makes the acquaintance of another Auxiliary member, Angelica (also called Angie or Ange) Hutchinson. She is also roughly Vivian’s age. She is also very drunk and very angry. From Angie’s slurred speech and Deb’s vague comments, Viv pieces together that Angie was dating a member of the order who has since disappeared. She is sure he’s a two-timing scoundrel and a heartbreaker, and when she sees him again, she’s gonna kill him.

Meanwhile, Back at the Lodge

The gentlemen in the group are admitted inside and given leave to check their hats and coats. They are then free to wander the foyer and the two front recaption rooms.

Out-of-Game Note: I start showing off the map of the Silver Twilight Lodge, and several members of the party who are Masonic-adjacent in real life tell me that the layout is disturbingly similar to a Masonic lodge they have been in. So that’s weird!

There is a whirlwind of introductions. The group meets John Scott, Noble Philosopher, and head of the order. He is charismatic and friendly, but aloof. They also meet Carl Stanford, and those players who have played Arkham Horror cackle madly, because they now realize where this is going. They note that both Carl and John have matching, silver-tipped canes that they carry everywhere. They are also introduced to several other members (or soon-to-be members) of the order, including:

Barry Pollard: A dried up twig of a man who is the headmaster of an all-girls school. He is apparently very racist. He said something upsetting to Vincenzo which, according to Vincenzo, made him want to, “introduce the man’s teeth to the back of his throat.” Vincenzo was so incensed that he wanted to leave immediately, and wanted to have nothing further to do with the order.

Maximilian Reed: Carl Stanford’s driver and attendant. Basically, the opposite number to Giannis/Johnny Dukas, who serves the same function for Judge Putnam. This becomes pretty hilarious later, and almost looks like I had planned it.

Dr. Edward Call: A jovial surgeon who seems very nice. Upon his introduction, Johnny’s player snarked, “well, I know who’s gonna die first.” He bonded with Dr. Black right away. He also told the players that he had been to three open houses at the Lodge and thought he had finally made the decision that he wanted to join the order.

The group also learns that the order is “old, but new,” and that they have only recently acquired the Lodge hall. They are shown pictures of the state of the place prior to their occupation and renovation (still ongoing). Mr. Stanford tells them that they are mostly done with the renovation, but the third floor is still under construction and is off-limits.

After the initial meet-and-greet, the group attends dinner in the larger reception room. They all sit together at a table with Dr. Call and with Mikhail, who has managed to get himself into the party without anyone realizing he probably shouldn’t be there. There is a moment of awkwardness when Judge Putnam, a judge, thinks that he recognizes Mikhail Dimathias, a lawyer, from somewhere. Mikhail plays his cards very close to the vest, however, and tries to give nothing away.

A spirited discussion begins about occult and historical subjects. John Scott happens to walk by the table during this and seems visibly impressed with both Judge Putnam and Kane Eastman. He hopes that both men join the order and enrich it with their presence. Kane Eastman, who is Black, is a little shocked that “this sort of group,” would want “a person like him,” in it, and begins to become very suspicious.

At this point, membership is discussed. Joining the order costs $100. (it’s actually $1000 as written, but, c’mon, that’s a FORTUNE in 1925). Several members of the group express mild interest, while Dr. Call tells Mr. Scott that he will be writing a check by the end of the night. Kane, having heard of the Halloween party the order will put on, offers to have the Kane Eastman Quartet play there. He is referred to Mr. Stanford, who offers him $50 for the evening. Kane counters with $100. Mr. Stanford accepts without even blinking.

Dinner is served. Judge Putnam complains to Johnny that he is worried his food will be too spicy. He asks Johnny to talk to the servers and make sure they don’t put any of those “nasty foreign spices” in his food. Johnny, who is Greek, talks to their waiter in private. He asks the man, whose name is Jack, to add extra spices to the judge’s food, and gives him $5 to sweeten the deal.

We later learn that this is the equivalent of $75 in modern money. Judge Putnam’s meal is well and truly seasoned. He is in gastric distress for the rest of the night.

After dinner, John Scott gives a welcoming speech to the attendees. Several players notice that he peppers his speech with anachronistic verbiage, some of which are turns of phrase from the mid-1700s. Because they are players in a Call of Cthulhu game, this makes them immediately suspicious. Mikhail’s player is sure that there are vampires involved.

With the speech concluded, the party seems to be breaking up for the evening. The players are once again asked by Carl Stanford if they would, “care to join the order.” All the players say that they will think about it and reply later.

While waiting in line at the coat check, Mikhail spots one of James’ coats hanging on the rack with all the others. He convinces the busy coat room attendant to give him James’ coat instead of his own. The man helps Mikhail into James’ coat. Mikhail succeeds on his Luck roll. The coat fits!

The group steps out into the evening, just in time to see Viv and Deb carrying a very, very drunk and loudly screaming Angie out of the Silver Twilight Auxiliary Hall. Mikhail, hearing Angie screaming about her two-timing, disappearing boyfriend, suspects that she might have had a relationship with James. He hustles across the street to talk to her.

The interaction does not go well. Mikhail, partly out of desperation to find out what happened to James, and partly out of a need to see what Angie knows, presses her very hard. This causes Angie to lash out violently, smashing Mikhail in the face with her purse and breaking his nose. She then vomits all over the front lawn of the auxiliary hall.

This, conveniently, requires Mikhail to seek immediate medical attention, which means that he and Dr. Black get to meet and bond over his now askew nasal anatomy. Welcome to the group, Mikhail!

Johnny, seeing the carnage, decides to leave immediately and drive Judge Putnam home. Since Johnny was also Dr. Black’s ride, this effectively strands Dr. Black in the area.

Call of Cthulhu Part Two: Summer 1925

The gap between the first session of the game and the second was quite substantial, so I decided to write something up for the players in my group to help remind them of what had happened previously, describe what they had gotten up to in the meantime, and setting up for the next scenario.

The next scenario also introduces a new player to our group: Mikhail Demathis, brother in the Masonic Lodge and a New York City lawyer prone to clever problem solving and intuitive leaps of logic. Mikhail is the best friend of one James Clark, also a lawyer, also a Mason. Joining one fraternal organization wasn't enough for Mr. Clark apparently, because he also joined the Silver Twilight Lodge. He found out something he wanted to tell Mikhail, but, before he could do it, he mysteriously vanished.

Before we get to the meat of that particular issue, let's see what the summer of 1925, and its conclusion, provided for our protagonists.

Summer, 1925

Quite a lot happens in the weeks and months following the strange incident of Leroy Turner and his horn.

The Horn

It is buried in some out-of-the-way corner by Giannis, hopefully to never be found again.

Leroy Turner

He briefly becomes an inmate at Bellevue. He is treated and released several weeks later. 

Vivian, Ronny, and Doctor Black

They somehow make it back to Vivian’s house before anyone misses them, where they remain for the rest of the night. All three vouch for one another’s whereabouts. Vivian’s word, being as she is the daughter of the capo, is unimpeachable. This proves to be very fortuitous in the coming weeks.

Geoff's Addendum: This was something I had forgotten to mention last time. I'm not quite sure how, but at some point, before they went up to Westchester to look for Leroy, Viv, Ron, and Dr. Black all wound up at The Burnouse household. Vincenzo, Viv's dad and the boss, told Ron to keep Viv at the house and out of danger. 

When Vincenzo realized that the doctor was there, the conversation started out with a hearty, "who the hell is this? Who the hell are you?!" and ended with a, "you know what? I don't care. You stay here, too. Everybody behave themselves!"

As you may recall from the previous installment, they did not stay there, nor did they behave themselves. This will become important later.

Ron Pays the Piper

Word on the street is that one of Bonano’s made guys was beaten half to death and left in a rain barrel by somebody. It doesn’t take much for Bonano’s surviving guys to point the finger at Ron Deluca.

While at a speakeasy one night, Deluca is approached by several of Bonano’s men. He eludes them and leaves the area, hoping to lay low in Hell’s Kitchen until the incident blows over. He’s found three days later by Jimmy Bianco, one of Bonano’s most vicious surviving lieutenants. The encounter is brief and unpleasant.

The next morning, Bernouse goes out to get his mail and finds Deluca unconscious in one of his garbage bins. Deluca spends a week in the hospital recuperating, and says nothing about the encounter. When pressed, he claims that he took a few solid blows to the noggin and doesn’t remember a goddamn thing.

The Mob War

Boss Bonano is dead, killed along with several of his lieutenants in what appears to be a grizzly hit. The other families all point fingers at one another. Boss Bernouse, who has quite a bit to gain from Bonano’s death, is heavily implicated. The fact that his men (well, man) had run-ins with Bonano’s crew shortly before the hit did not help.

Luckily, the families believe Vincenzo and his daughter's story (mostly Viv's, if we're being honest), and his family is spared any reprisals. Bernouse takes on a neutral, fatherly persona as the rest of the families carve up Bonano’s territory, and Bonano’s surviving lieutenants fight for supremacy in the power vacuum.

In the end, Bonano’s much-diminished crew is now led by Jimmy Bianco—also known as “Big Grin,” due to a pair of very unfortunate mouth scars. Big Grin becomes capo thanks to a series of incredibly brutal raids that stabilize his territory with heavy casualties on all sides.

Bernouse comes out smelling like a rose, his reputation with everyone but Big Grin’s "family" significantly improved. It helps that he takes advantage of the power vacuum and the mob war to solidify his own ties with the legal and government entities in New York City. By the time mid-September rolls around, he’s practically a pillar of the community.

Small’s Paradise

The club stays closed for months, initially due to the murder investigation, later because it is on the front lines of a mob war and too hot to use. The club eventually falls under the protection of the Bernouse syndicate, and Vincenzo Bernouse uses his connections help Small restock the bars and spruce up the place. This wins him a lot of acclaim with the mayor and several other interested parties, as well as solidifying his power base as one of the strongest capos in Manhattan.

September

Things gradually return to normal by mid-September. The families still eye one another, but after the exhausting weeks of war, no one wants to break the peace. Everyone goes back to their usual routines.

On September 18^th, Vivian plays first chair violin in a sold-out orchestral performance. The performance is positively reviewed in the Times and other papers, and pictures of the musicians, including and especially Vivian, start making the rounds in society circles. It is not long before her now upwardly-mobile father starts getting requests from interested suitors.

On September 25^th, Vincenzo Bernouse receives another interesting request. As a man of prominence, he has been asked to join a, “society that works toward fostering brotherhood and community between all good, Christian men around the world.

  

The name of the society? The Silver Twilight Lodge. 

Call of Cthulhu Part One: Dead Man's Stomp

I'm running 7th edition Call of Cthulhu, and used the quickplay rules in order to generate characters with great speed and alacrity.

I should also note that this part, and likely the next one, are from before I started taking careful notes after game, so they'll both be a lot sparser on details.

I was originally going to run The Haunting, as it is not only a classic, but also a fun, claustrophobic tale set in a haunted house. However, I would up with a lot more players than I was expecting (definitely not a bad thing), and so decided that I needed to run a scenario that had a little more room for everyone to breathe. To that end, I decided to run my second favorite starter scenario, Dead Man's Stomp.

I have to say that Chaosium has stepped up their game for this edition. The scenario is still set in the 1920s (which is a bad time for a lot of racist/sexist/classist reasons), but the writers have fixed it up by setting it in Small's Paradise, a real nightclub in the 20s, as well as the only Black owned, integrated nightclub in Harlem at the time. So props for being awesome about history, folks.

The story begins in July, 1925, in the midst of a brutal heatwave. Despite Prohibition being in full effect, nightclubs like Small's Paradise have no difficulty acquiring top-shelf booze. The owner pays his taxes, as well as other fees, to keep NYC's mayor and the state's governor happy enough that nobody presses any charges or causes any problems.

The action begins with the players all deciding to go out to Small's Paradise one Friday evening. As luck would have it, they are all seated at the same table in the back of the main dining area, near the kitchen. Already seated at the table is Peter Mancuso, an accountant, who seems nervous and not terribly talkative.

Onstage is Charlie Johnson and the Paradise Orchestra, playing the hottest jazz licks for the assembled guests. People are dancing. Important people are pressing the flesh, and the governor and the mayor have just been announced at the door.

At about this point, Leroy Turner, a Black musician, sneaks in through the kitchen and tries to make his way up to the stage. No one is letting him past. Giannis (or Johnny), the judge's driver, respectfully makes way for the man and escorts him to the stage. As they go, everyone notices that Leroy has a strange, silver trumpet with an odd patina and four valves. Giannis also notes that Leroy is drunk, and overhears Charlie Johnson tell Leroy that he's late...again.

Leroy gets up on stage and starts playing the next song, a little ditty he wrote himself called "Dead Man's Stomp." He is on fire. The crowd loves it.

At this precise moment, a mobster named Joey Larson, who works for Boss Bonano, walks up to the players' table, draws his .45, and blows a hole in Peter Mancuso's head. Doctor Black, sitting across from the accountant, gets covered in innards. As people scream and panic, Larson flees out the kitchen door.

The players then realize that Mancuso is tapping his dead fingers in time with the music. They watch in horror as the corpse shambles to its feet and starts making its way for the exit. People scream in terror. It's chaos.

Things get a little hazy here. Some of the players stayed inside, trying to figure out what was happening, Giannis dragged the Judge through the kitchen door to the car, in the hopes of making a quick escape. One thing led to another and, several failed rolls later, Giannis had struck Mancuso's animate body as it was lumbering across the street, smashing it into a light pole and cutting it in half.

Vivian pursued Leroy backstage, only to discover that he had taken the fire escape. She did find a card about a funeral that Leroy (she assumed) was not only invited to, but hired to perform at. A handwritten note informed him that the funeral was in "New Orleans style," and that he needed to be on time.

The rest of the next day was spent gathering information about the victim, the shooter, Leroy Turner, and other strange things that were happening. Ron Deluca, a made guy for the Burnouse family, came into his own by tracking Larson to a Bonano Family front and casing it for evidence. He didn't find any, but he did beat the crap out of one guy and shove him in a rain barrel, so that's something!

Kane Eastman attended the funeral of Frederick Fayette, a prominent Black businessman who died of natural causes. Leroy Turner and Charlie Johnson are also there, along with hundreds of other mourners. The assemblage processes with Fayette's coffin through the streets, while Charlie and his band play some rousing New Orleans tunes.

When Leroy Turner launches into Dead Man's Stomp, however, the now animate Fred Fayette smashes his way out of his coffin and pummels his way through the crowd, to the shock and horror of everyone around. Fred only stops his rampage when he runs into his grieving wife. She calls him by his name and he quietly dies again, collapsing into the street.

Kane pursues a fleeing Leroy Turner, catches up with him, and demands answers. Leroy will only talk if alcohol is involved, so Kane buys him some and convinces him to tell him what he knows. Leroy says that the horn was a gift from Louis Armstrong, which Kane flat-out does not believe.

Leroy eventually leaves, insisting that his story is true, only to be picked up off the street by Joey Larson and some of Bonano's other guys. The players get to live out their fantasies of "following that car," tailing Larson up into Westchester County, to a small garage in the middle of nowhere. Those that have weapons draw them and approach.

Looking in through the garage windows, they see Bonano himself standing there, surrounded by several of his top lieutenants. Leroy Turner has his waist and legs securely bound to a chair, though his hands and arms are free. Bonano is in the middle of angrily questioning Larson, asking him how dragging him out into the middle of nowhere to listen to a jazz musician has any purpose or makes up for Larson shooting Mancuso in a crowded establishment.

"I told you to scare him, you idiot! Not shoot him!"

Larson goes on to plead his case, saying that he's been following Turner and that Turner's music can raise the dead. Bonano draws his pistol from his shoulder holster and says, "okay, let's see a little demonstration."

Larson draws his gun, but before he can clear leather, Bonano guns him down. He then puts the silver trumpet in Turner's hands and encourages him to play. To the shock and horror of everyone involved, Larson's corpse struggles to his feet.

At this moment, the cavalry charges in. Giannis uses his shotgun to blow the trumpet out of Turner's hands (critical success, by the way, so Turner wasn't harmed at all). They also mowed down Bonano's men and killed Joey Larson again.

In the midst of the battle, Ron Deluca, who is setting himself up as a force of unchecked id, knocks Bonano to the ground and smashes his head in with a sledgehammer.

The group is very careful to leave no witnesses. They take a now thoroughly rattled Leroy back to the city and Giannis buries the horn in an undisclosed location.

As they are driving away from the carnage, all of them briefly spot a figure in a hat and coat standing by the roadside. The figure smiles widely at them as they drive away.

My Call of Cthulhu Game

I have been running a tabletop Call of Cthulhu game for a while now. I initially ran the group through Dead Man's Stomp (a classic that I love) from the quickstart rules, before deciding to have them face off against the Order of the Silver Twilight from Shadows of Yog-Sothoth.

I'm actually using the sixth edition of SoYS, with conversions, because I don't believe that there's a current version of it for seventh edition Call of Cthulhu. It is not the greatest of the Call of Cthulhu campaigns (hello, Masks of Nyarlathotep), and it has quite a few rough spots. It is also not really designed for the beginner Keeper/game master. The first adventure has no rails to speak of and no real suggestions about what the players should do or how they are to find out about the Order's shenanigans and stop them.

The story of the game has gotten super intricate, in part because there are seven players, all with their own interests and baggage, and in part because, since there's no rails, I'm pretty much letting them  do whatever they want, even if they only ever tangentially blunder into the plot. It sounds like a mess, but it's really not. Everyone, including me, is having a great time, is loving the characters, and is really engaged with whatever story it is that we're telling.

Since so much happens each game, and since I am trapped at home due to the pandemic, I have been flexing my writing muscles to provide detailed recaps of each game session. I have also (as of the third game) started to allow the players to take one action between games. They tell me what they're doing and I write up a brief-ish response of what happened. Then they spend the first part of the next game speculating and worrying at one another.

The story told through these writings is a surprisingly fun and interesting one. Because I need validation, I have decided to share the story of my Call of Cthulhu game through blog posts. It is my hope that other people will enjoy these stories just as much as the players do.

But first, let us start off with our players. Starting with Dead Man's Stomp, we have:

Dr. Reese Black: A physician and surgeon in his mid-thirties. Has a private practice and sees patients at both New York Hospital and Bellevue. As is typical of most surgeons, he is somewhat socially incompetent.

Kane Eastman: An African-American jazz singer and musician. Leader of the Kane Eastman Quartet. Has a very deep and mysterious interest in the occult. Always has an interesting approach to get around even the most intractable-seeming problem.

Judge Ezekiel Putnam: An elderly, somewhat Puritanical judge in New York City. Lives on a large piece of private property in Staten Island. Cannot abide much in the way of excitement or spices, but is otherwise in excellent health. Will probably outlive us all, so long as no one sneaks anything outrageous (like pepper) into his food.

Giannis "Johnny" Dukas: Greco-American Great War veteran who has been hardened by his many experiences. He currently works for Judge Putnam as a driver, manservant, and cook. He lives on the judge's property, in the carriage house. He keeps a shotgun underneath the front seat of the judge's car.

Ronald "Ronnie" Deluca: An Italian-American who is also a mafioso in the Bernouse Family. Due to being mixed-ethnicity and having a little bit of an anger management problem, he has not risen very high in the ranks. However, he is a long-time friend of family head Vincenzo Bernouse, and is the godfather to Vincenzo's daughter, Vivian.

Vivian Bernouse: An Italian-American mob princess, who knows the ins and outs of the family business despite her father's best attempts to shelter her. She is college-educated and a skilled violinist. She has played a number of concerts in New York City and has gradually begun to make a life for herself outside of the family.

Their adventures begin...in an upcoming post!

The Final Flight of the de la Torre

GEOFF NOTE: This is the introductory text for the Invictus LARP, a rule book that I created for fun. It is meant to take place in the same world as the Mystwood LARP, but many thousands of years in the future, after Humanity has developed space travel and hyperdrive. It's a pastiche of Warhammer 40k and Traveller. 

This is the flight recording of the final moments of the Dreadnought de la Torre, whose heroic crew won an impossible victory for Humanity. Portions of this recording have been redacted or altered per New Terran Republic Governmental Protocol 1193-1A, for security and safety reasons.

COMANDER VAAL: We have a lock. The package has been picked up. Repeat—the package has been picked up!
CAPTAIN LUMIA: Excellent work. Energize stasis field.

Electrical discharge. Screams. The distant sound of tolling bells. Chanting in an unknown language.

VAAL: Captain, stasis field is collapsing! The Princes are breaking…
LUMIA: Divert all reactor power to the hold. Keep that field up!
BRIDGE CREW: Ma’am, the system’s overloading. It’s shorting out!
VAAL: They’re out! Marines! Ready weapons. Concentrate fire. Hold the line. HOLD THE LINE!

Sounds of battle, screaming, ritualistic chanting.

ALIEN VOICE: SUB-CREATURES! YOUR DOOM IS AT HAND!

INCOMING TRANSMISSION: De la Torre! This is the Arcada! The entire Chaos Fleet has changed course. Heading for your position.
LUMIA: Roger that, Arcada! It’s because we’ve captured their Princes. They’re confined to our hold right now.
ARCADA: What the [REDACTED]! How in the…
LUMIA: We can’t contain them with our stasis field. My marines are trying to take them out.
ARCADA: Understood, de la Torre! We are scrambling to assist. Hold out as long as you can.
INCOMING TRANSMISSION #2: This is the Nedeni. We are en route as well.
VAAL: Captain, we’re giving them hell, but they’re still advancing. We’ve sealed the hold, but they’re…

Interruption by screaming, explosions. 

VAAL: Captain! We can’t stop them! They’re carving their way to the bridge.
ARCADA: De la Torre! Be advised, we are taking heavy fire! Six Annihilators closing fast. Shields collapsing. Wall shields holding, but…
HELM: Captain, I read the six Annihilators and…a dozen other ships. They’ll be on us any second.
LUMIA: Damn it. Helm. Set course for local system point, mark zero-zero-zero.
HELM: Ma’am? That’ll take us into the…
LUMIA: That’s an order lieutenant. Vaal, can you still hear me?
VAAL: I hear you, captain!
LUMIA: You have my condolences. You know I wouldn’t waste…
VAAL: (chuckle) Forget it. I never wanted to live forever.

More explosions. Static. Screams.

ALIEN VOICE: WE ADMIRE YOUR HUBRIS, BUT YOUR RESISTANCE IS IN VAIN. YOUR FLESH IS OURS TO SCULPT. YOUR SOULS SHALL BE THE FUEL FOR…

VAAL: All units, advance! Slow them down! Put your hearts into it! Come on you [REDACTED]!
NEDENI: We’ve sent a general distress, de la Torre. The fleet’s mobilizing and moving to your position.
HELM: Captain…coordinates accepted. We are coming about.
LUMIA: Thank you, Nedeni, but that won’t be necessary. Tell the fleet to pull back and get out of here.
NEDENI: De la Torre, I don’t understand. Say…Oh [REDACTED]. What are you doing?!
LUMIA: What we have to, Nedeni! Tell the fleet to keep those Annihilators off of us just a little longer.
NEDENI: (unintelligible)
HELM: Captain, hyperwarp engines are cycling up, but the automatic safety interlocks just engaged. We can’t…
LUMIA: Disengage safety interlocks. Input override code [REDACTED].

ALIEN VOICE: YOUR DEATHS ARE INEVITABLE. YOUR WORLDS ARE OURS TO DEVOUR.

VAAL: Captain…are you there…We…lost…most of the company…our heavy primordials…I’m sorry…we…
HELM: Safety interlocks disengaged.
LUMIA: No apologies necessary, commander. You did well.
VAAL: Thank you…captain…
LUMIA: Helm, engage hyperwarp on my mark. Three…Two…
VAAL: You want some, you oozing, mutie [REDACTED]? Well, take THIS and THIS! AAAH!

Gunfire.

LUMIA: Mark.

Sisyphus and Tantalus

It was Sisyphus who discovered how to break the system, completely by accident.

Out of sheer, defeated boredom, he started pushing the terrible boulder along different approaches to the summit. The end result was always the same, as was foreordained by the gods, but at least the view sometimes varied.

One such variation saw him pushing the boulder over the loose and yielding scree on the steepest side of the mountain. This earned him taunts and heckling from his minders, but Sisyphus didn't particularly care. He had done this millions of times already, and knew that he would not succeed.

But then, oh, when he at last reached the summit, and the boulder slipped away from his careful grasp, it rolled and bounced zig-zag down the side of the mountain, crashing and scattering smaller stones, until it landed with a splash in Tantalus' pool.

This gave Tantalus a brief reprieve in two ways. The sudden injection of the stone caused the pool's water level to rise abruptly, so that it splashed into the old sinner's parched throat. The action of the water also carried Tantalus up and up, as if he were a ship on an angry sea. There was only one wave, and it was not very high, but it was just tall enough for Tantalus to knock some of the tantalizing fruits off of the bough above his head.

Sisyphus stood at the summit, mouth agape. He was happy that Tantalus had been given a respite, however brief, from his suffering, but he was jealous that no similar reprieve would ever fall upon him.

And then he smiled, because he realized that it had.

Their minders pointed and laughed at Sisyphus, mocking him for his foolishness. Then, when they had at last calmed themselves, they hoisted the dripping stone from Tantalus' pond and moved it over to the sandy field where Sisyphus was foreordained to begin his every ascent.

While they laughed, while they primed his eternal torture so that it could resume, Sisyphus stood upon the summit in the cool sunshine, no longer laboring.

RPG Character Library: Dungeon ADVENTURE! 2!

Quite a while ago, I began participating in an experiment during a very dry period in my creative life. The experiment was as follows: Go through the RPGs you own and make characters for each one.

This proved to be an interesting process, as it got me to painstakingly go through many of the systems that I owned. Making some of these characters revealed hidden gems, while others made me want to set things on fire. Because I am only an infrequent blogger at best (partly because "easily distracted" partly because "the writing style of my blog posts makes it seem like I have neurological processing issues") the grand majority of this blog is taken up with character portraits for games I will likely never run or play.

Early on in the process, I made characters for my trunked (to use an author term) game, Dungeon ADVENTURE! Inspired by Joe, of Monkeyden Games, I made a character with the earliest version of the rules I could find, and the same (or similar) character made using the latest iteration of the rules to that date. You can re-read the thrilling saga here.

Looking over the many, many iterations of rules for Dungeon ADVENTURE!, in preparation for making that post, caused a long dormant machine in the back of my brain to come chugging back to life. I realized that I had lost sight of the original appeal of the game--that being that it was streamlined, straightforward, and easy to make characters for. I also realized that there was nothing stopping me from going back through all the different versions of the rules, picking out the bits that actually worked, and cobbling them together into a new, better version of the game.

Which I did!

Earlier this year, I had Joe Blomquist design me a nice cover (featuring art by John Forish and Josh McGaw), formatted my Word document, inserted a bunch of appropriate clip art images, and published the current version of Dungeon ADVENTURE! thanks to the fine folks (and machines) at Lulu. Shortly thereafter, I was inspired to write more for the game, first a module, then a setting guide. If I can keep up this pace, I will have quite the line of products soon.

I'll probably be talking a lot more about the ins and outs of the Dungeon ADVENTURE! game, as well as details of its rapidly growing campaign world, in future updates. For right now, I though I'd circle back around to the beginning and make a character using the current version of the game.

Making a Character

The game has six stats, most of which should be familiar to people experienced with role-playing games. The stats, as well as what they do, are as follows.

Strength: How strong you are. Determines the types of armor and weapons you can use.
Agility: How dexterous you are. Determines the types of weapons you can use.
Mind: How smart you are. Important for wielding the eldritch powers of Sorcery.
Combat: How well you attack and evade in combat. Dump stat for the thinky characters.
Charisma: How likable you are and how commanding your presence is.
Health: How hardy you are. Double this stat to determine your Life Points (HP).

All stats are determined by a random roll of 2d6. Roll six times and place the results where you want them. I get the following results: 4, 7, 3, 8, 3, 10. Sub-par, but I feel like I can work with them. I also wonder if maybe there ought to be a new rule where players can roll 3d6 for each stat and drop the lowest.

No, no, Geoff. The game is already published. Move along, move along.

Next up, I have to determine my character's Kindred and his Class. I have decided to make this character as similar as I can to the characters that I made with the earlier versions of Dungeon ADVENTURE!, so, to that end, I decide that my character is a human sorcerer.

Each Kindred species gets bonuses to two stats and bonuses to three skills. Humans, being the most diverse, get +1 Combat, +1 to another stat, and +1 in any three skills of their choice. I put the other stat bonus in my Mind, because the Mind stat is of paramount importance to a sorcerer.

Each Class starts with some benefits, a +1 bonus to three skills, and a special ability at first level. As characters rise in level, they will gain access to additional abilities. My character gains a scene spell slot (I'll explain this in a minute), access to a school of Sorcery, and gains +1 Life Point at 3rd level and every other level thereafter. He also gets +1 to the Resist Magic, Lore (Any One), and Sorcery (Any One) skills. A sorcerer's first level ability is the gift of The Sight, which allows me to detect magic on people and objects if I make a successful Mind roll.

The next thing I must do is pick skills. I start out with the skills provided by my Kindred and Class, and also get 5 skill points to buy skills. Skills have multiple ranks, and each rank in a skill costs one skill point. I could dump all five of my points into one skill, split them evenly between five skills, or spend them however I want. Certain skills have (Any One) listed in their description, which means I have to specialize, so I also do that now. I decide that my character can cast Aquamancy spells, and that he knows the lore of Sorcery itself.

We're moving right along! The last thing I have to do before character creation is complete is buy equipment. I get (2d6+6)x10 gold to buy my starting equipment. I roll and get 120 gold, which is a nice cache of coin. I note that my character is agile but weak, which limits his weapon choices severely. I also note that heavy armor will not only impede my ability to pass Agility rolls, but it will also hamper my spell casting ability. I decide to go with the lightest possible armor, affording me nominal protection, a buckler, a sling, and a bit of basic equipment, which leaves me with 56 gold.

I could end it here, but before I do, I want to take a moment to discuss how magic works in Dungeon ADVENTURE! Is that self-aggrandizing? Yes! But so is the rest of this post. So...

Sorcery

The game has no spell lists. You are allowed to do just about anything--a) that you like b) within reason--with any of the spell schools you know. My character knows Aquamancy, so he can perform just about any sort of magic that he wants, so long as it involves water or ice.

He has a few limits to his powers, however. He can't do damage/restore Life Points with any spell more than 1d6 + half his skill rank. He also cannot buff or debuff stats, skills, or armor any more than half his skill rank. For my character, that means he gets 1d6+2 and + or -2 respectively.

He also has to determine the range of the spell when he casts it. He can target himself or one other person within 50' x his rank (200') at no penalty. He can attempt to cast a spell with a 10' radius AOE centered on himself at a -2 to his casting roll, or he may cast a ranged spell that has a 10' radius of effect at a -4 to his casting roll.

Lastly, and most importantly, he is limited to the number of spells that he can cast at a time. Spells have two duration in Dungeon ADVENTURE!: Instantaneous and Scene. Instantaneous spells take effect and then dissipate, having accomplished their effect. Scene spells remain in effect for the duration of the scene (or if the target breaks line of sight with the caster, goes out of the caster's range, or if the caster is rendered unconscious).

My character has one scene spell slot, which means that he can have one Scene spell active at a time, though he can also cast one Instantaneous spell each round. If he tries to cast a new Scene spell, the first one immediately stops working. Worry not, though, because my character will gain additional scene spell slots as he rises in level.

The Completed Character

With all that being said, here's my character, ready for adventures in dungeons, or elsewhere!

Navino the Blue, a Level 1 Human Sorcerer

Strength	3	Skills Awareness 2 Lore (Sorcery) 1 Resist Magic 1 Sorcery (Aquamancy) 4 Stealth 2 Survival (Coastal) 1
Agility	8
Mind	11
Combat	4
Charisma	7
Health	4
Life Points	8
Benefits and Abilities One Scene Spell Slot The Sight (detect magic on a Mind roll)			Magic Notes Damage and Healing: 1d6+2 Modify Stats/Skills/AP: 2 Range 200’

Equipment

Leather Armor 1 AP 20 gold

Buckler +1 Combat 10 gold

Sling (150’ +1 DB) 5 gold

Bullets (20) 2 gold

Basic Adventurer’s Kit 12 gold

Writing Kit 8 gold

Parchment (5) 1 gold

Bedroll 6 gold

56 gold remaining.

Chaos Eclipse: Part Three

The third and final installment of the Twilight/Beautiful Creatures/NCAA 2017 fanfic requested by Meg.

This was fun! Hooray!

---

            It was Edward's hardest basketball game ever, and, in a way, it was also the most fun.

            He had no idea what the crowd, or what the people watching the game at home on TV, were seeing, but he guessed it wasn’t anything like what was actually happening. They’d be stampeding or screaming or…calling their congressman, maybe? Did people still do that?

            No time to think about that; he needed to concentrate. Lena matched him in speed, somehow, seemingly everywhere at once all the time. It took all of his hunting skill to keep up with her, shadowing her so that she couldn’t get near the basket or pass to her open teammates. By midway through the first half, he realized he was playing a game within a game. Cut off from his teammates, focused entirely on the Caster, he gave everything he had to make sure that her blatant cheating didn’t cause a blowout.

            He was used to going up against other vampires and their weird powers, as well as the occasional werewolf, but he always had the benefit of his telepathy. Lena was blocking him somehow. Like Bella, she was inscrutable. Unlike Bella, she was clearly enjoying herself. She faked him out more times than he cared to admit, dribbled circles around him, stepped in just the right way so that he collided with her, causing him to both fall and foul. And colliding with her hurt. His skin was supposedly diamond hard, but smacking into Lena felt like being hit by a freight train.

            And even when she wasn’t out-thinking him or out-playing him, she used her magic to frustrate him in other ways. There were ten Lenas on the court, each with their own ball. There was one Lena, but she had wings and did loop-de-loops in the air before perching deftly on the top of the backboard.

            Even with all that, it was nice not to have to hold back, whether out of fairness or for the look of the thing. It was exhilarating, even to the point of what drunkenness must feel like, to throw off the mask and push himself to the limit. He leaped to the rafters, ran as fast as he could, sank a three-pointer from the opposite court.

            It was also fun because it was a challenge, and a different sort of one than keeping his powers reigned in all the time. This must be what his other teammates felt like when they went up against a bigger and better team. This must be what the coach meant when he talked about how adversity made you stronger, because you had to reach inside yourself and find the will to continue onward.

            He was playing the best basketball of his unnaturally long life, and even though Lena kept laughing at him and mocking him in her southern twang, Edward couldn’t help but smile a little.

            A few minutes into the second half, he thought that he had the Caster girl figured out. He noticed the pattern to her movements, the tiny microseconds where her attention was divided between weaving spells and sinking shots, and he pressed the advantage.

            He was feeling quite confident until it started torrentially down-pouring indoors. Edward took a header on the slick court, cracked his skull on the boards, and slid out-of-bounds, taking the ball with him.

*

            There was a long, fuzzy moment of black spots and disorientation. He came around to see the assistant coach and the team physician kneeling beside him.

            “What’s your name, son?” said the physician.

            He blinked. “What?”

            The assistant coach and the physician looked at one another. “I’m trying to assess you for brain injury. What’s your name?”

            “E-edythe?”

            “Okay,” said the assistant coach, “take him out.”

            “No, no, wait,” said Edward, hopping to his feet. “I’m Edward Cullen. I’m from Forks, WA. The president is…” not Woodrow Wilson…don’t say Woodrow Wilson, “that Donald Trump guy, but I kind of wish it was anyone else.”

            While he talked, the physician stood, took Edward by the temples, and peered into his eyes.

            “How do you feel, Cullen?”

            Edward glanced back at the court. Lena quirked a grin at him and tossed him a wave. “Good, good. I’d like to get back out there, if that’s okay.”

            “You’re sure?” said the assistant coach.

            “Sure, I’m sure.”

            “All right,” said the physician. “I’ll let you back in there, but the second. Cullen, look at me. The second you get dizzy or start to feel sick, call a timeout and get out of there, you got it?”

            “Yeah,” he said. On the court, Lena was sticking her tongue out at him.

            “Yeah. I get it.”

*

            Zags lost 71-65, but what a game!

            At least, that’s what Edward kept picking up from the minds around him. His fellow players were disappointed of course, but the game had been so close right until the end that, while everyone was down, no one felt like they had done a bad job at playing.

            Amusingly, it wasn’t even Lena who beat them. Edward had gotten her locked down in a corner right at the end of the game, but that didn’t stop Justin Jackson from turning a three point lead into a five point lead with ten seconds to go. Only someone with superhuman strength and speed could make up the difference with so little time left on the clock, and, while Edward could have done it, he knew it would be wrong.

            So the Zags lost 71-65. But what a game.

            He commiserated with his teammates, assured the coaching staff and the physician that he was really all right, really, and hit the showers. Long, long after the crowds had left the arena, Edward shouldered his gear bag and headed back to where his teammates would be staying.

            He bumped into Lena right outside the back door. She held out her hand.

            “Good game, Eddy.”

            He shook it. Her hand felt small and fragile in his, but he knew the girl behind the hand was anything but. “Don’t call me ‘Eddy,’” he said. “But, thanks. Good game to you, too.”

            She released his hand and brushed a stray hair out of her face. “So, what are you doing right now?”

            “Crashing, I guess.” He leaned in and said, in a lower voice, “or, pretending to.”

            Lena laughed. “Well, listen, if you’re just going to lie in bed and pretend to be asleep anyway, do you want to come hang out? There’s this good coffee place down in…”

            “I don’t drink…coffee,” he said, smiling despite himself.

            “Right, no, I guess you wouldn’t. Well, we could just hang around. Talk, you know?” she moved in closer—uncomfortably close, now. Edward could smell the sweet aroma of her blood. “See what happens?”

            He stepped back. “I appreciate it. I mean, I had fun, even though we lost, but…I just got out of this kind of messed up relationship and I…”

            She laughed again. “I’m not talking about a relationship, Mr. Cullen. I’m talking about sex.”

            “Sex?”

            “Yes!” she said. “You look so shocked. Jesus Christ, what are you, Mormon?”

            “No, no,” Edward replied, holding up his hands as if to ward off her accusation. “Of course not. I just assumed that maybe you…I mean, you’re a literal magical girl…I figured you had a boyfriend.”

            She shook her head. “Not in this continuity. Thanks, mom.”

            “Oh. Well. Uh. Sorry.”

            “It’s fine, it’s fine.” She took him lightly by the hand. “So. How about it? You share, I share, we see what happens?”

             Edward looked up at the moon, breathed in, breathed out. He realized that, for the first time, he couldn’t quite remember what Bella looked like.

            “Sure,” he said at last. “There’s just…this is embarrassing, but there’s just one more thing.”

            “What’s that?”

            “Well, I’m super strong and nigh invulnerable, and—”

            Lena smirked again. “Floorboards in there tell a different story, buddy.”

            “Ha ha. Shut up. Anyway, you’re a Caster, whatever that is, but you’re also just a human right? I’ve hurt way more people in my life than I’d care to admit. I don’t want to hurt you, too.”

            “Oh, emo kid, you wish,” said Lena. “I’ve got plenty of ways to protect myself. Besides, you’re not the biggest badass out here right now, or have you forgotten already.”

            Edward ran a hand through his hair. “I might have. Probably the brain damage.”

            “Ha! Well, listen. I can’t kiss unprotected mortals without causing them to experience painful shocks and, if I ever have sex with one, I might just shoot so much electricity into them that I give them spontaneous heart failure.”

            “You say that like you’re boasting,” said Edward.

            “Maybe a little.” She looped her arm around his. “Come on, corpse boy. Let’s see if you can ride the lightning.”

END

New Darkness: Part Two

In which the fan-fiction on Meg's behalf continues...

---

            Edward had played baseball for almost as long as the game had existed. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but still, he’d played a lot of baseball. Unfortunately, the baseball tryouts weren’t until spring, and Edward couldn’t imagine playing the game with anyone other than his family.

            He didn’t quite know why he tried out for basketball. If pressed, he would have said that he was in the standing in the front of McCarthey Athletic Center, checking out posters put up by the various intramurals groups and sports teams and…before he knew it he was in line to sign up for the tryouts.

            The coaches were more than a little dubious, and he guessed he didn’t blame them. The problem with being superhumanly strong is that the physical world leaves very little for your body to work hard against. I mean, unless you were Emmett and you threw trees and rocks around for fun. Compared to the other players, he was on the shortish side, on the scrawnyish side, and—due to being a sophomore and admitting that he had never played basketball before—was more than a bit on the inexperienced side.

            His vampiric powers, even consciously dialed back to almost nothing, gave him at least the appearance of natural skill, however. He was fast, agile, and never seemed to get tired. The coaches also seemed to appreciate that he did all the drills, came to all of the practices, didn’t give anyone any lip, and was pretty good about working with his teammates.

            He knew that he could be even better than this. His telepathy would always put him one step ahead of his opponents. His was literally so fast that he could do easy layups while the other players on the court seemed to literally be standing still. But that was no fun. Like baseball with the family, playing basketball was more about doing things with people. Of sharing a common interest. Of working to a common goal. You didn’t just do that by being an unstoppable, godlike, ballhog.

            Edward wasn’t sure that his teammates liked him either, and it took all of his willpower for him not to use his mental abilities to check. But soon, he started receiving friendly slaps after a good play (although he was always worried that someone was going to break their hand on his flawless chest), and good-natured ribbing in the locker room. This latter was a new sensation, and it was difficult for him to adjust to it. Edward knew they weren’t actually making fun of him, but the old, protective rage proved to be a beast that was hard to kill. He tried to smile, to laugh it off, hoping that his return barbs weren’t too envenomed and that they didn’t drive too deep.

            The season started and Edward, despite being a seemingly respectable member of the team, sat on the bench. He seethed inside, but less so than he would have back in Forks. He wanted to play, but he was competent enough at math to know that the team had a lot of players, and they could only play five of them at a time.

            The coaches finally started putting him in at the end of games, when Gonzaga’s victory was almost assured. He showboated a bit more than he promised himself he would, but there was something about the energy on the court, the surging scream of the crowd, that got his venom pumping much more than mere bloodlust ever could. In his first two outings he left the other teams flatfooted and sank a half-dozen seemingly impossible shots.

            Gonzaga decided to have him start shortly thereafter.

#

            Edward had dialed it back as much as he could when he started playing regularly. He had come to respect and really enjoy the camaraderie of his teammates, and he wants to make sure they had a chance to shine as well. So he passed the ball, set up shots so his teammates could score, screened the other team, and even fouled and got fouled a time or two, crashing theatrically to the boards, acting, what he hoped, was the part of a fragile, moderately injured human.

            Back in Forks, his family had started watching the game, sending IMs and emails from their Apple products whenever Gonzaga won. They were all convinced that he was the lynchpin of the team, and Edward could not convince them otherwise, no matter how strongly he argued the point. He guessed that they were just proud of him that he was doing so well—and Jasper was impressed he hadn’t eaten that Israeli player from UCONN yet.

            All of that led them up to this night—the big game in the Final Four against the Tar Heels. Only one of them would advance. Edward, of course, hoped that it would be the Bulldogs. There was no way of knowing, though, especially considering that the Huskies’ women’s team (lady Huskies? Edward wasn’t sure) just had their more than 100 game winning streak broken. Freakish, but anything could happen.

            He did not, however, realize that anything included a slender, dark-haired girl wearing street clothes walking out with four of the Tar Heels. About the only thing that looked even remotely athletic on her were the broken-in Converse on her feet. She played idly with a necklace that was obviously homemade and strung with junk—something that would no doubt cause someone an eye injury over the course of the game.

            The girl squared off with Edward as the first half began. He looked around frantically—at the refs, at the coaches, at the other players—but no one else seemed to notice or care how out of place she was.

            “Hey,” she said, speaking in the low, honeyed drawl of the Deep South. “Get your head in the game, Cullen.”

            “But…you…” he said.  “How?”

            “I’m a Caster, you filthy blood incubus,” said the girl, breaking into a radiant smile. “And all these guys think I’m Isaiah Hicks. You don’t, though, because you’ve got powers and you’re cheating.”

            The whistle blew. Edward moved to cover the girl, listening to the omnipresent roar of the crowd, the high-pitched squealing of sneakers on wax. All of a sudden, the ball was in the girl’s hands.

            “Well, I’m Lena Duchannes, bitchbag, and if you can cheat, so can I.” 

Beautiful Twilight: Part One

This is a fan-fiction post for my friend Meg, who recently posted on her Facebook wall:

The NCAA Final Four is the Carolinas vs. the Pacific Northwest. How bad is it if I'm imagining a Beautiful Creatures / Twilight crossover with college basketball? #thisiswhymybracketbursts

One of my other friends responded, "this sounds like fan-fiction in the making," to which Meg replied, "Geoff Bottone! We need you!"

There was a lot of back-and-forth on her wall regarding this potential fan-fiction, including what it would be like and, of course, how slashy it would be. I participated in the discussion, laughed it off, and went about my day.

But then, like most writers, I had an idea.

This idea was hampered by the fact that I have never read Twilight or Beautiful Creatures. That said, I've read a lot of critical evaluations of Twilight (mostly from the ever-loving Mervin), so I at least know what the plot is. I had to Google Beautiful Creatures and discovered that it was that book that got turned into that movie about that girl who is a witch who will be claimed by good or evil.

And, I figured, maybe that was enough. Besides, fan-fiction writers don't give a shit about canon--Ron's a Death Eater! Harry is goff as fuck! Uh. Magenta-haired self-inserts! Kirk/Spock!--so maybe I didn't have to, either.

So, here is my non-canonical, unapproved fan-fiction involving Edward Cullen, Lena Duchannes, and the 2017 NCAA Final Four. Part One.

This one's for you, Meggles. Hope you like it!

---

            Edward did a double-take when a young woman came sauntering out onto the court with the other team. Of course, being a vampire, his double-take wasn’t even noticeable by the humans on his team, on the other team, courtside, or in the stands. It was a brief flicker of movement, eldritch in its beauty, which could have only been caught by a high-speed camera.

            The young woman, human-appearing but definitely not fully human, smirked at him. Whether this was a coincidence, or whether she had actually seen how she had rattled him, was unknown to him.

            Also, just like Bella, he couldn’t read her mind.

            Bella.

            Why the hell did everything still remind him of Bella?

#

            The last couple of years had been the longest of Edward’s already unnaturally long life.

            It turned out that Bella hadn’t really been in love with him at all—more than anything else, what she really loved was being a vampire. Once she had all the venom she ever wanted coursing through her veins, she became increasingly withdrawn. Their house, and here he smirked at the pun, became a mausoleum. She spent more and more time out in the wilderness alone.

            He was so used to knowing what other people were thinking that the complete isolation from Bella drove him almost completely mad. He didn’t know what she was thinking, and he couldn’t make her tell him what she was thinking. Every day was like a tug-of-war, with Bella ultimately snapping at him over some trifle or storming off into the woods.

            One day, she just didn’t come back.

            He tried to fill the hole left by her departure with other things. Long drives up to Alaska, spending time with his family, trying to rebuild a shattered home for his daughter, that sort of thing. He didn’t realize until it was too late that Renesmee was already lost to him. Bella had been poisoning his daughter’s mind from the start, and Jacob, her betrothed—and really, how messed up was that—continued to feed her piles of anti-vampire propaganda that the werewolves had been clinging to for years. Yes, sometimes we kill and eat people, but you werewolves freak out and hurt the ones you love. No hypocrisy there.

            Once Renesmee had left to go on a motorcycle tour with Jacob, Edward was left alone in his house with only his own thoughts and his memories for company. After the initial, months-long bout of self-pity (which might have been accurately portrayed with a sequence of blank pages with just the month names written on them, like chapter headings), he began to realize that he needed a change in his life.

            A really big change.

#

            He left the quiet fastness of Forks and enrolled in college again—this time at Gonzaga. He decided not to go in for another sciences or medical degree, instead pursuing something that he realized had become lost to him—the Humanities.

            He played piano for one of the campus bands, took courses on painting and sculpture, tried to wrap his head around post-modernism and post-post modernism, and tried very, very hard not to use his powers. He refused to take it for granted that all the answers that life provided were in the heads of other people. Humans didn’t have that ability. Humans had to deal with uncertainty and mystery—something he had long ago forgotten about until Bella reminded him.

            So, when he got a C+ on his all-night essay on Nietzsche and the Overman, a critique, comparing and contrasting using passages from Crime and Punishment, he went back to his dorm room knowing that he had at least come by his middling grade honestly, instead of yanking all the good ideas from the smug philosophy major two seats in front of him.

            College was hard this time. There were a lot more people at Gonzaga than he was used to, and their overactive, late-teen brains were a wild static of chatter. He had been able to filter out most of the noise with effort, but that just left him feeling more lonely and isolated than ever. Not knowing what people were thinking made interacting with them extremely difficult. He often wondered if he had made a good impression on anyone, or if they all thought he was a cold, unfeeling creep.

            Edward was feeling particularly low at the beginning of his second year at Gonzanga. He was about to throw in the towel and go home, but something changed all that.

            And the change was this: on a whim, he decided to try out for the basketball team.

Grey the Mercenary: The Rules

I recently came across Chuck Jones' Rules for his Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner cartoons. It's an impressive list, and it really works to both define the characters and focus in on the types of stories that he wanted to tell.

I realized, while reading it, that I had cultivated my own rules for the Grey the Mercenary stories, even though I hadn't been consciously aware of doing it. Because I think it's interesting, and because I feel like showing off, I now hereby present to you, Gentle Reader, the rules that govern Grey.

*ahem*

• Grey is never the point-of-view character in his stories. (There may be one exception to this.)
• Grey must feature in every story, but he is rarely ever the focal point of the story.
• The protagonist of each story must work to solve their own problems.
• Grey will assist the protagonist, but will never, ever solve the problem by himself.
• Each protagonist should be unique, and come from a different background. This facilitates Grey's wandering nature, but also allows you to explore numerous areas of the setting.
• A small amount of Grey's backstory should be revealed in each story.
• Different protagonists will describe Grey differently, as a reflection of their own beliefs and mental states.
• The Saints, Prophets, and Ancestors can be oft-mentioned by their adherents, but should never do anything.
• True magic is extremely rare, and is always tied to Life somehow.
• The three big factions (Commonwealth, Company, Insurgency) should be presented as shades of gray with the occasional streak of black or white.
• The stories take place over a long period of time, but they all should have similar settings and tech levels (18th century with a bit of steamy punk thrown in there).

So there you have it. I hope that was at least mildly interesting for you. We'll see how well I adhere to these rules down the road.