It Slices! It Dices!

So, I'm dreaming...

The dream takes place in a kind of cyberpunk corporate atmosphere. I'm looking at a team of superheroes. The Bombardier Beetle ("He looks more like a ladybird to me..." "Don't ask, don't tell.") is busy on the phones 'cause it's lunch, and The Lady Mantis is off eating. He's telling Fast Boy, ("All the good speed names are gone." "We could call you 'Meth-ew.'") that so-and-so on eighth street needs a rush lunch delivery. Fast Boy's back in a minute.

Deirdre ("I am a mechanical SUUUUUUPER-GENIUS!") is in her hole, a metal "think tank" within her cubicle. She comes out waving a paper for some sort of "Superheroes on TV" show. Deirdre is also a big television freak. ("Ever since her brother Dexter died in this freak lab accident...")

The scene changes to a big television studio, where I'm one of the studio audience. The intro is funny, with things like, "Ever since Mr. Cat caught The Mouse," and you see two superheroes in glittery tights wrapped around each other like in some sort of ice skating couples pose. The television show is basically an introduction to the city's superhero leagues, as well as kind of a "try-out" for who gets on a regular superhero sitcom.

The really silly stuff happens back stage. A super-speed supervillain shows up, looking very confused. Apparently he had also received a letter of invitation. The superheroes have to be on a "best-behavior" situation, but their mere presence is enough to cow the villain. It was neat to watch the superheroes greeting each other, playing pool and card games... and cheating.

I don't remember all of the dream, but there was a character that stood out... The Diabolica. She was this incredibly gorgeous black woman with cat green eyes... who was both an illusionist and a "multiplier" meaning she could either make multiple copies of something else, or herself. She had one horn turned backwards, and one up front which curved around like a black halo.

Anyway, turns out the whole thing was a set-up. The producers had already determined who "won" by who would be most attractive to the viewing public. Needless to say, that didn't go well once the heroes caught on to it.

It appears that this year "Pictionalmost" will be my personal contribution, my "zero-dollar specialty," as I call the kind of gifts someone gives because they have the talent, the guts, the whatever-it-is-it-takes to give it.

I'm not an artist. I'm a terrible poet.

I can, however, make a good Pictionary-style game with the details of the Birthday Individual for the hilarious sketching of others.

You can try it, too.

My methodology:

A good-sized game will include 50 cards. I did 100 for Our Sweetie, but I did only 50 for Rainbow K this weekend.

Ten categories, five-to-ten cards per category.

It sounds like a lot, but it isn't. How do I come up with this much?

1. Get a small notebook. Number each page from 1-8 (if doing 5/category, or 1-14 if doing 10/category) for ten pages. You'll use more.

2. Start naming categories by interests of your subject. Feel free to have a "love/hate" or a "potpourri" category.

3. Brainstorm. Start writing down anything under the category that occurs to you. Sometimes while writing down things you might come up with a new category, and sometimes while the category idea might have sounded good, you can't come up with more than three items.

   Our Sweetie and Rainbow K both watch a number of television shows, or are familiar with them. So I had two "Cartoon" categories for Our Sweetie, and I had a "Television," "Disney," and "Movie" category for Rainbow K. Our Sweetie had a "Famous Vampires" category. Rainbow K had a "Harry Potter" category all to her own.

   On the other hand, I was going to do "Cooking" as a theme for Our Sweetie, and couldn't come up with enough foods.

4. Don't worry about making it "too easy" or "too hard." Remember, the drawing that someone else does isn't necessarily going to look exactly like what the team guessing it is going to expect.

   My mother drew the "Hate: Saurkraut" from Our Sweetie's pile. She kept drawing something that ALMOST looked like a hot dog. For five minutes after her team failed to guess it, a handful of people went up to the board and tried to draw hot dogs in example. For "Cartoons II: Dexter's Laboratory" she tried drawing laboratory vials, beakers, and tubes. Let's just say that that also did not bring any points...

5. Once you have more than you need, weed them out by what you don't like, and most importantly, by the ones you can't figure out how to draw.

   How would you draw "Gwen Stefani" anyway?

6. Create the cards. I printed up on a $5 pack of cards from an office supply store the ones for Our Sweetie. For Rainbow K, I used index cards split into 4ths. On one side goes the category, the other the "clue."

7. Adapt your rule variations. Ours were as follows.
   
   
   
   • Roll a d10 (highest) for which team goes first. Teams can choose their own names.
     
   • Roll a d10 for category. Once all the cards in a category are exhausted, rolling that category number leaves it "Judge's Choice."
     
   • You get three seconds to look at the card and get a pen. You then get one minutes (90 seconds if under the age of 8) to draw. No letters, no numbers, no code words.
     
   • If your team does not have the correct guess at the end of the time limit, the other team gets one chance to "steal." "Stealing" does not change the order of turns, however.
     
   • Everyone who is playing has to have a turn at drawing. People without a clue (especially children) are allowed to get a clue from the Judge(s) on what to draw.
     
   • No complaints of, "I can't draw," are allowed.
     
   • Teams playing a 100-card game win at 10 points. Teams playing a 50-card game win at the end of all cards.
     
   • If there is a tie, you can have a challenge wherein the teams choose their best artist and they both get the same clue. The team that guesses the clue first wins the point.
     
   • Refer to the Judge(s) all disputes.
     
   
   

My birthday is in a few days, and I'm afraid my loves may just come up with this kind of idea for me... frankly, next year I think I might do, "Family Feud"-style games instead. [grin]

I had another gaming dream.

Without using this as an awesomely obvious opportunity to delve into my psyche, let's just say up front that yes, my father is short and has a beard, but he's the only man in my life that way, and I've already dealt with Electra.

One of the people I can respectfully call GM recently mentioned rather off-handedly that on Saturdays he ran his "other group."

There are a lot of relationships in gaming, but I never quite realized how much the romantic-style applied to the dynamic. I think in part I felt like the GM was "two-timing" us. Where did I get the idea that there was an implied exclusivity commitment in GMing? Is it a faux pas to talk about your last gaming group like there is making comparisons to your old boyfriends?

I have noted in the past that it is not uncommon for me to develop silly crush-level feelings for the people in my gaming groups. With the Minions it made sense as it was a fairly incestuous group of friends, family, and dating partners anyway, but it sounds like it could get awkward at conventions.

Roleplaying is intimate.

There's no question in my mind why "roleplaying" has a devoted terminology in the sexual arena. Anyone who has ever flirted in-character may have similarly flirted with the intensity of the possibilities.

The nuts and bolts of gaming, as it were, probably don't require any emotional investment... although the cries of agony as a critical failure reveal themselves may provide ammunition for debate.

...but for as much as there may be an illicit thrill in "living through" of others' experiences, the interaction of gaming itself is, to me, often an extension of trust. I mean, sure, I can roll dice with anyone. Can I put on my "Jelica suit" in front of a bunch of strangers?

Rainbow K has been reading The Great Book of Amber. She's in preparation mode to visit ACNW this year, and I told her she has to read the books first. (She's relieved as of last night that I'm not subscribing her to the mailing list. Just because I have 900+ messages there I really haven't read...)

What makes this SO cute to me is that she'll come in excitedly and read bits of it aloud to me, like I've never heard them. She also has a running commentary of who "the important people" are and who she thinks should be on the throne, and things like that. It's great. (So far she doesn't like Eric.)

She did point out to me that there were "a lot of dirty words" in the book, but that she was "OK with them." Hmmmm. She said nothing at all about the scene between Corwin and Moire. Maybe I should poke around at that...

"You want ointment that defies glamour? Available in the supermarket," he danced a little step towards the counter.

I looked up at the display. "You've got to be kidding me."

He shook his head, revealing the slightly pointed ears beneath his curls. "Dead serious." He tilted his head and smiled. "Read the ingredients list." He took the small can off the shelf and handed it to me.

I nodded slowly.

I looked down at the bright pink piece of paper left on the porch. I'm guessing it was Chatterbox's from the irregularity of the letters. It was difficult to make out...

...and what did it say on the left there, next to the checkmarked little box?

Wepins

Could it be... a home-made character sheet?

They're so cute.

Of course, the seminal rules for keeping your own pet gremlin was to beware of exposure to water, sunlight, and the all important "feeding them after midnight." (This is a lot like children, although it seems (at least locally) to be more "exposure to sugar after school" that turns them into monsters...)

Is that "midnight local time," or...? I remember reading the novelization which suggested almost otherworldly origins, but I was thinking of adding gremlins into a Feng Shui campaign (they seem very Chinese-mythos to me...)

It was war.

War was never declared, never spoken in a, "This means war," sort of fashion. No gauntlets were thrown, no politicians made speeches creating enemies of the wraiths of slavery and allies of the golems of solidarity. No leader spoke of righteousness. Only the uniforms and the casualties that paraded across the screens were given words by those of shallow celebrity status. It was war, never declared, but known by all.

I served. All of us did. First my laboratory was raided, and my knowledge was requested by the autarch in power. His name was known but meaningless. I was given the sublime carrot, the ability to practice on subjects that such things as law and humanity would not allow. I would be able to get meaningful results, if I could provide what my leader required.

My leader required soldiers. Soldiers without the will to protest their enlistment. Robots with the processing ability, the survival ability, of the human brain. I was to twist desire into loyalty and provide pleasure for it. It was an easy task. One that allowed me time for my own projects.

It was a terrible war, and there was no one to stop it.

Taking up the Jvstin Dream Game Meme or whatever you'd like to call it, I've been having to really consider games for the next AmberCon I visit.

Luckily my campaign is the kind that (generally) takes people time to respond... not so much cerebral as multilayered. While there's no doubt it's Amber, it's still far enough away that I don't consider it when I consider my general Amber malaise.

On the other hand, I still dream Amber. I still have Amber ideas. I have Amber FtF players in Denver, if I can afford to make the trip.

I have, of course, my Enemies campaign. I haven't been working on it because of everything else taking my time. It's still a possibility, and I'm actually hoping our BESM group might be interested once our current campaign is concluded.

I'm looking to run a one-shot Buffy game soon for the kids. (They're huge Buffy fans.) I've been very tempted by the Buffy/Miskatonic crossovers, as I can really see the appeal and flow of such a thing. In this case I want to try something slightly serious on the little ones.

I want to run a dark Earthdawn PBeM with two-to-four very active players. (No one in mind, actually, but I have a campaign I've had the recipe for for years. Has to do with Ork Liberators, primarily, and the Horrors past Barsaive.) Since picking up The Art of the Dark Crystal I've really been wondering if it would mesh well with Earthdawn...

I just haven't been "turned on" by any new systems, recently. I've got an idea for a demon-hunting Kult game, but I'd probably be porting the rules over to something else.

And no, I still don't have a pirate game in mind...

Alright, this dream is haunting me, so I guess I should write it down as a form of exorcism.

Vandra, or Casavandra as she was known by her previous caretakers, was a large marmelade tabby with brilliant green-yellow eyes.

Her name was going to be Casanova, because of her loving personality, but when she was revealed to be female, the woman of the caretaking family chose the name "Casavandra" instead. Never "Cass," she was always called "Vandra."

So I had this dream about a new system a friend was trying out, and we were playing along with great characters (mine was an ex-Jedi who abandoned the Council because he had figured that love was more important) and enough of the system remained when I woke up to suggest it as a little fun add-on to your diced system of choice.

Three dice (d6) are added: one is a black one (the "funky"), another is red (the "wonky") and another is unusual in some fashion (the "monkey.") These dice can be rolled in any order, and in any combination of two WITH the regular dice roll, BUT they have to all be used once before you can roll one again... so you could roll a funky, a wonky & monkey, and then a funky & wonky, but no duplications until all three have been added.

So, an ex-girlfriend of ours introduced us to a variety of poker she had known as "Mexican Sweat." I loved it on first play.

Stuff: One regular deck of playing cards, betting chips.
Players: 3-7
Initial deal: seven cards face down to each player.
Play:
Do not look at your cards!
The player to the dealer's left is the lead player. The lead player starts flipping over cards until his revealed hand beats the highest revealed hand on the table. As soon as his revealed hand becomes the best hand, he stops flipping cards and begins a round of betting. If he flips all his cards and does not beat what is on the table, he is out and a betting round begins with the high hand. Either way, the next player becomes the new lead player and the process repeats, with a round of betting whenever someone stops revealing cards.
If at any time the lead player reveals a seven of any suit, he must immediately fold and a betting round begins with the high hand.
The game continues until all the cards have been turned up or there is only one person left in the game.
Winner: High hand.

(I have since looked it up, and I'd say it was "close enough" to the official variant.)

Since I rarely use ethnic disparagings with titles, we immediately dubbed it Martian Sweat, since, well, Martians aren't going to complain, now, are they?

Intrigued with the possibilities, I ended up deciding there had to be a way to make it even better. I have since dubbed this new variant, Rebman Sweat. Because, you know, in Amber, Rebmans are the butt of all the ethnic jokes.

I've decided I want to create a Dogs in the Vineyard cross with Ars Magica ... while I was thinking a redcaps (House of Mercere) game, the LintKing thought it would be interesting (and more true to the material) to do a Qu?sitore scenario. Since I'd probably just be running it for him, I figured I'd do some looking up and designing.

Of course, now that I'm doing all of this Qu?sitore research, I want to make it a Dresden Files: The Wardens adventure.