Category: Gaming

So here’s the campaign. This is Mike’s fault.

It’s a little known fact, but once you’ve been President of the United States, you don’t get to die. You live on in eternal unlife after your death; sure, you leave a corpse, because everyone likes funerals, but your Ka goes on.

Yes, Ka. Just like in Egypt. Look at the dollar bill; you think the pyramid isn’t there for a reason?

You are bound to the country. You can speak to the current President, but each sentence you speak takes a year of his life. That’s the real reason why Presidents age in office. Once a President leaves office you lose your connection to them, but you’ll be there to welcome them to the afterlife, oh yes. It’s the only excuse you have for a party.

You are as you were when you died. Everyone takes turns caring for Reagan. It’s nervewracking; if he wanders off and finds his way to the White House, he could age any sitting President to death in one night of conversation.

Hoover and Nixon could hear the Dead Presidents, but did not join them in the afterlife. Ford never could hear them. Nobody tried talking to David Rice Atchison; everyone was very surprised when he arrived to join the rest of his comrades.

The ghosts of every Treasurer of the United States who ever lived serve the Dead Presidents in the afterlife.

There’s a backstory, but it’s too late in the evening for me to write it up. This is for Jeff.

The Men of Action game, invented by Rob MacDougall:

Pick a historical figure; let’s say Walt Whitman. Walt Whitman’s Men of Action! Describe the ensuing campaign.

Go.

I’m not posting this scenario because I intend to run it. I’m posting it because I like to think. Truth? I’m better at coming up with concepts than running them anyhow. This one’s a freebie; steal as you like.

It’s 1972. World of Darkness. Miami. Cuba smells like revolution and the Democratic National Convention smells like a boxing ring. McGovern has a legion of young, angry, active delegates behind him. They’d rather fight than think. Humphrey has the Machine, a political creature made of motor oil and money. To the Machine, the present moment is the last hope of traditional politics.

Everyone’s wrong; it’s always the largest hurricane in the world when you’re inside the eye of the storm.

You were turned into a vampire not more than a couple of months ago by a couple of guys pretending to be union organizers. You are weapons. You may, perhaps, be deluding yourself about this — but you are weapons: you were created in order to serve a need. Your master wants Humphrey to win. McGovern has the distinct edge.

It’s the second night of the convention, and Gary Hart — McGovern’s campaign manager — is executing brilliant procedural moves to get the right delegates seated; his floor organization is building strength. He needs to — not die, but vanish for a couple of days. He could be found in a drunken haze after the convention. That would suit; that would build the image of the McGovern campaign as a group of men unable to handle the demands of politics.

It’s the second night of the convention, and there are vampires on the floor. It is unlikely that you are alone; it is more than likely that you will meet those of your kind who wish to protect McGovern and Hart. Then again, as a vampire, alone is the default state of affairs.

For the easily amused: Huey Long’s Men of Action.

I just wrote up a little fictional piece, but it sucked and while I know what I need to write, I don’t currently have the brainpower to write it. So here’s the straight dope.

Jerry Russell is a right-wing talk radio host at KTLK, in LA. He has a medium-sized and devoted following; he pushes the talking points of his ideological friends and runs down the opposition like any good talk show host on any side of the political spectrum. He rules the airwaves from midnight to 4 AM, and has always been a little nervous about trying to go daytime. In fact, he’s turned down opportunities more than once because he’s afraid he couldn’t compete with the big boys.

He is not a Michael Savage or an Ann Coulter. He has a bit of Art Bell in him, ranting about conspiracies from time to time. He does not tell people that the moon landing was a hoax, however.

A year ago, Jerry Russell and his entire production crew at KTLK were killed and turned into vampires by a small coterie with a yen for irony. He doesn’t know anything else but broadcasting, so — he’s still broadcasting. He has the station manager under his Discipline-enhanced thumb, and he has sleeping quarters for him and his crew in the station. Just as he was worried about venturing into the rough world of daytime talk, so he worries about going out into the night and meeting other vampires. Besides, he has to keep to his schedule.

I’m not entirely sure where the premise goes, but that’s the setup.

A number of GenCon pictures, at varying levels of amusement value, can be found here.

If and when I run that 70s Boston Angel game, the WhedonWiki is gonna be a useful resource. Kind of a pity they don’t let anyone edit, but I can understand why — the spammers are getting aggressive about using wikis to improve their Googlerank. If I were doing spam fighting at Google, I’d be seriously considering removing wikis from the pagerank equation.

(Bill, I still need a name for that wiki. Give me one and I’ll set it up.)

I think I need an artist to do a cover (b&w) destined for a 6” x 9” book, plus three or four half-page interior illos, also b&w. The subject matter is, unsurprisingly, superheroes. I’m not too picky about the era, although I’d want heroes rather than anti-heroes. I can’t pay real artist rates; I’m thinking more towards the low end of RPG artist rates — $125 for the cover, $25 for each interior art piece. I may be slightly off on those prices. I just want publication rights; I don’t want to own the piece.

I figure I’ll start poking around on the Forge and maybe on Elfwood soon, but I figured I’d put out the call here first.