She who Haunts my Dreams

“Now, let me show you one of the most impressive things, in my opinion, that we’ve created here.”

He pressed a button; she flinched as a shutter pulled back to reveal what appeared to be a cross between an alligator and an emu.

“What is that thing?”

“You know the movie Jurassic Park?”

She nodded. “That’s a raptor?”

“Deinonychus, Spielburg couldn’t even get the species right.”

“It looks like its watching me,” she grimaced.

“It is. They’re quite intelligent. Unfortunately they’re a failure from a business perspective.”

“Oh?”

“Incredibly expensive to produce, and not good for anything besides mass slaughter.”

Who do dragons play poker with?

The office is sparsely, but expensively furnished. The computer on the desk is a recent model. The woman behind the desk is clad in a gray pantsuit; it cost enough to pay the rent for several months in a mid-sized apartment in the outskirts of a major city.

Her name is Lucille Desmond. You might have heard of her, though probably not. She was number 83 on Times Magazine's list of top female executives last year.

A crow has just flown in through her open window. None of the other offices on her level have windows that open. She had to burn a lot of political capital to have one installed. Her business colleagues regarded it as an odd eccentricity from a woman who normally tended towards ruthless pragmatism.

They were unaware that she had a pragmatic reason for a window that could open.

She does not look up from computer as she addresses the crow. "What news did the old Reprobate have, Merle?"

"Arthur has woken." Merle's voice is deep and resonant, belying his small frame.

Lucille looks up from her computer and brings an intense gaze to bear on the crow. "Impossible. Avalon remains locked away."

"He didn't wake up the normal way. He's been reincarnated. Turns out someone slit his throat about twenty years back. Past life memories are just starting to come through now."

"Someone?"

"Who knows? It's not as if CSI: Avalon was on the case."

"I wonder if it was her. It would be surprisingly ruthless of her." Admiration seeps into Lucille's tone and she turns back to her computer.

Recognizing a dismissal, Merle departs the same way he arrived.

Random drabble. This came to mind while I was trying to think of something to write for Valentine's Day.

I give you:

In Which a Dark Lord Ponders the Futility of Talking to Heroes...

"If you're that powerful why don't you attack your neighbors and expand your realm?"

"I take what I can hold."

"Liar! You're a lord of one a Dark Realm. Your kind are inherently greedy."

"Are we inherently stupid?"

"What?"

"Are we inherently stupid? If I take that which I cannot hold, it will be lost, and the effort spent taking it will be wasted."

"And you don't want to waste effort?"

"I view waste as a weakness."

"A weakness?"

"Strength used intelligently is worth more than strength used wastefully."

"So you're lazy then?"

"Why do you insist on ascribing my actions to faults rather than virtues?"

"You're lord of a Dark Realm."

This afternoon was one of my rare efforts at game mastering. I was running The Last Escape by stolisomancer.

I first read the play test logs of The Last Escape a few years back and rather enjoyed them. I think of it as my introduction to the zombie genre. Before I read that, I regarded zombies as icky and dull, afterwards they had entertainment value.

Eventually we got through character generation. A bit more of a combat-oriented group than I was expecting, some kind survivalist-type, a gun-toting convenience store clerk, a K9-Unit Police Officer (there was an attack dog on the equipment list), and a moderately infamous mass-murderer who has the huge-size merit and no weapon skills.

I think we got over most of the learning curve, though there wasn't much progress in the adventure.

I started them off in the high school. They explored they visited the roof, where they killed a flock of undead ravens (I'd been expecting them to run away), and the principal's office where they killed a zombie secretary. They also looted the mini-fridge of some fried chicken. Then the big guy threw a chair through the window, they killed the eight zombies visible in the parking lot at range by shooting through the window (come to think of it, I wasn't paying much attention to the range of their pistols), then jumped out. The Cop with the Dog got his car (he maxed out Equipment in his backgrounds) and they all packed into it and headed out.

That was where we finished.

Unfortunately I forgot to bring my copy of Red Roses and Dead Things by seanan_mcguire which seemed a sure bet for mood music. Hopefully I'll remember it next session.

Today I finished reading 'Rosemary and Rue' by seanan_mcguire.

To give a quick review, it was a good book and I recommend it.

( I shall try to avoid spoilers, but here's a cut just in case. )

Magneto was one of the last to be brought down, forced to his knees and bound in chains of silver. There were others, obscure figures in hiding, but none left who could be expected to lead a serious resistance.

They had gone into the battle with confidence. Despite the warnings coming out of the Muppet Underground they discounted the severity of the threat. Had they not triumphed when faced with more dire threats?

The first sign that they faced something truly terrifying was when they lost of all of the telepaths. All of a sudden, every telepath, from Professor Xavier to Dr. Druid fell to the ground seemingly comatose. But when you leaned closer you could make out that they were muttering the same phrase, over and over again. "It's a small world after all."

Despite this first blow against them, they rallied and fought valiantly. It was all in vain. Though their foes had no militaristic values to speak of, nor any kind of warrior culture, they did not need it. At these incredible levels, raw power can overcome skill and cunning.

The Empire of the Mouse had conquered another world.


I read that Disney had "added 5,000 characters to its stable." This inspired thoughts of hordes of super heros in chains being herded into a literal stable. The bit above was inspired.

I am currently reading Charles Stross' blog and listening to Tom Smith (Death Sheep Radio).

Life is good. And geeky.

I'm playing a bard in my D&D campaign. As such words are an important part of the characterization.

I recently came across a couple examples of improvised oratory from a couple different RPG campaigns and thought it would be neat if I could do that.

However, I lack confidence in my ability to improvise nifty speeches. Dialogue has never been my strong suit.

As Oscar Wilde put it, "The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit."

Anyone have any good examples of heroic dialogue that could be quoted (stolen) for use in a D&D game?

A short Monsters vs. Aliens fan fic.

Cut for possible spoilers.

( Little Black Dress )