Psychic mutants for a better tomorrow.
Tonight I wrote the Playcentre roster. It's a wierd job, first of all I wrote one which satisfied each person's best-case scenario and then, discovering that would mean that Thursday had 10 people on duty and Tuesday had 4, I re-wrote it trying to not be anyone's worst-case scenario.
Today my role-playing game has finally left Wellington. After Kapcon I decided that I wanted to play again, y'know, some kind of pretense of a life of action and adventure rather than conjunctivitis and power chucks (oh yes, it's been that sort of a day for poor old Hazel). So I got into a group playing something like medieval sf. Or so I thought. By the time they met up with my character we're all in cafes around Wellington (albeit in 2009) and it turns out that they have a 5 year old in tow. Right, completely escapist, I have two children who are 4 and 2 and as far as I know neither of them is a psychic clone jump-gate pilot. So, in order to make our lives easier, we rescue another couple of kids who are 2 from a lab. But just as we get rid of one of those to her rightful parents so that we have two kids, like I do, who are 5 and 2, like I almost do, we hop into a spaceship and I really hope that the next session will start with us having got out of here.
Take my love, take my land. Take me where I cannot stand.
I don't care, I'm still free. You can't take the sky from me.
Take me out to the black, tell them I ain't comin' back.
Burn the land and boil the sea, you can't take the sky from me.
There's no place I can be, since I found Serenity.
But you can't take the sky from me...
I'm actually a tad nervous, it was years since I last played and maybe having it be around here was a nice easy intro and I'm about to find out I'm not up to scratch anymore. Georgei is a pretty slick dude, and a bit noble to boot, and here he is being channelled by me and I have no feel for his world yet. I'm bound to make bumpkin-ish errors that he wouldn't make. Kind of the opposite problem he's been having in Wellington of suddenly having words pour out of his mouth that suggested a native knowledge of the place that he lacked.
Poor old fictional beings, they get such a rum deal: no real life, the un-reality they have tends to be nasty brutish and short, and we make so many of their choices so differently than they would.
Today my role-playing game has finally left Wellington. After Kapcon I decided that I wanted to play again, y'know, some kind of pretense of a life of action and adventure rather than conjunctivitis and power chucks (oh yes, it's been that sort of a day for poor old Hazel). So I got into a group playing something like medieval sf. Or so I thought. By the time they met up with my character we're all in cafes around Wellington (albeit in 2009) and it turns out that they have a 5 year old in tow. Right, completely escapist, I have two children who are 4 and 2 and as far as I know neither of them is a psychic clone jump-gate pilot. So, in order to make our lives easier, we rescue another couple of kids who are 2 from a lab. But just as we get rid of one of those to her rightful parents so that we have two kids, like I do, who are 5 and 2, like I almost do, we hop into a spaceship and I really hope that the next session will start with us having got out of here.
Take my love, take my land. Take me where I cannot stand.
I don't care, I'm still free. You can't take the sky from me.
Take me out to the black, tell them I ain't comin' back.
Burn the land and boil the sea, you can't take the sky from me.
There's no place I can be, since I found Serenity.
But you can't take the sky from me...
I'm actually a tad nervous, it was years since I last played and maybe having it be around here was a nice easy intro and I'm about to find out I'm not up to scratch anymore. Georgei is a pretty slick dude, and a bit noble to boot, and here he is being channelled by me and I have no feel for his world yet. I'm bound to make bumpkin-ish errors that he wouldn't make. Kind of the opposite problem he's been having in Wellington of suddenly having words pour out of his mouth that suggested a native knowledge of the place that he lacked.
Poor old fictional beings, they get such a rum deal: no real life, the un-reality they have tends to be nasty brutish and short, and we make so many of their choices so differently than they would.
posted by Susan Harper at
11:50 PM
4 Comments:
I think I'll have to put in some work to really emphasise the differences in society.
Yes, nice long descriptive passages that give one time to think... Part of the problem I have is that I'm sure that Georgei's allowed himself all sorts of laxities that he would shake off when he gets home. Like people who go away to university and live with their parents in the summer.
Also there's the matter of the paranoid delusional lady he came to rescue. He's almost been convinced to her way of thinking here, but surely she's wrong about the real world.
Unrelated to you two's cosy gaming chat, but Susan, do you have Firefly on DVD? Cos if you do I'd like to borrow it: I think Becky and I might enjoy it a lot...
Firefly ownership status classified I'm afraid.
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