Archive for December, 2009

Sky Corsairs

Posted: December 27, 2009 in RPG, Solo
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The little automatic in Mary’s hand spit lead at the leaping creature, catching it squarely in the body. [A nice raise on her shot to hit!]  The thing dropped to the dirt with a squeal.  Mary didn’t wait to see if it was still breathing.  She hightailed it up and out into the daylight.

Wait, daylight?

The thought crashed through her mind even as she darted up and out of the strange, jewel-encrusted room.  It was dark, just dark, when Tubman dumped me here.  Where is here?

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The Most Fun I Never Had

Posted: December 26, 2009 in RPG
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I have to admit, I’m a bit of a rules junkie. Very rarely have I passed a set of rules and said “ugh, I would never buy those!” Maybe I look at them like lost puppies or something, that there’s never a set that’s completely irredeemable. Or maybe I’m a sucker. Either way I have far more rules than I’ve ever played.

So to that end, I’m taking a pause from Mars for a post or two and writing up a year ending list of the top ten rule sets I’ve never played but would sorely like to (in no particular order…I could never rank them to find the single most desired unplayed game in my list).  I know I could play each and every one of these with Mythic, and at some point I probably will, but it’s not the same solo as with a group (which can be said for many things!)  For some games, like Cold City for example, group play is almost essential.

So here they are, my top 10 “Games I’d like to play (in a group)”: (more…)

The Vortex

Posted: December 19, 2009 in RPG
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Mary was in the back seat, jammed between two of the goons.  The third one sat in the front, while Tubman drove.  Night had fallen while they’d kept her locked in the study.

She was relieved that they hadn’t searched her, found the bonds.  It meant that if she survived this run, at least she’d have something worthwhile to show for it. (more…)

Tubman

Posted: December 13, 2009 in RPG
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His name was Earnest Tubman, but he was known in the industry as “Tubby”.  It made him seem lovable and cuddly.  Mary had heard that he was anything but.  More of a viper in an expensive suit, smoking fat cubans.  That was why she had even less issue than usual about using his trust and taking his things for herself.

It was a typical Hollywood party, dozens of the famous, nearly famous and various hangers-on, gathering at Tubman’s sprawling ranch in the wasteland outside LA.  The joke was that his place was the last stop before Phoenix, and it was nearly true.  Mary joined the flow of cars pulling into the ranch, maneuvering her little Ford roadster between a Duesenberg and what she thought might be a Rolls Royce.  There were some pretty high power people coming out for the party.  All the better for her, she figured, they’d keep the host distracted while she worked her magic up in the private parts of the house.

Freddy had pointed her out here.  He’d processed the orders for the expensive hooch his runners would bring in from Mexico and Canada.  Beer, they made locally, and Tubman wanted that too, but for the scotch, rye and tequila, since prohibition’s start that all had to come from abroad.  And Freddy was the man to do it.  Capone had gone to jail earlier in the year, so he was out of the trade, more or less, and Freddy had run for Big Al on occasion, so he knew his business.  He’d told Mary about the party, and she’d jumped at the chance.  Not just for the score, but for the opportunity to prove to Freddy how much he needed her.  She wanted him to need her the same way she needed him.

It was easy to slip into the house.  There were a pair of guards on the door, and Mary was almost certain that they were carrying rods, but they didn’t check invitations as you went.  It would be an insult to ask an invitation from some of this crowd.

Inside the party was in full swing.  There was a jazz band in the back, playing hot music while the who’s who of Los Angeles drank cool drinks and danced.  Mary mingled a bit first, taking a drink when Clark Gable was pouring.  She had a few sips and then abandoned it, Clark poured them too weak.

When she saw Tubman engaged in conversation with some other big-wig, Mary took the opportunity to slip upstairs and start rifling the bedrooms.  The biggest score came in one of the guest rooms, where she found a set of bearer bonds worth thousands.  And better, totally untraceable.  Those went down between her breasts, held fast by the snugness of her dress.  They were safer next to her body than in her little purse.

She left the upper floor and decided to take a chance on the basement.  She maneuvered down the stairs unseen and started through the rooms.  She found a wine cellar, stocked with green glass bottles.  Apparently Tubby didn’t like sharing the good stuff with guests.

Trouble started in the next room.  It turned out to be the kennel.  The barking started as she opened the door, and there was a big German Shepard running loose in the room.

Mary backed away from the door, and pulled her little .25 automatic from her purse.  She was seized by indecision.  should she shoot the dog, and hope no one heard the shot?  Or should she run?  The dog backed her against the cold stone of the open stairs, still barking.  Then the decision was made for her.

Upstairs a light shone and three big, tough men thundered down the stone steps.  In quick order they sized her, took her gun and purse and dragged her back upstairs.  They put her into the study, with one guard, while the others went for Tubman.

Tubman came with the other two guard in tow.

“You’re not on my guest list,” he said conversationally.

“I took a wrong turn on the highway,” Mary started.  “Came in to ask directions.”

“You took a very wrong turn if you found yourself in my basement.”  He held up her little automatic.  “And with this too.”

“Girl can’t be too careful these days.”

Tubman smiled at her, with a smile that held no warmth.  “I think you’re a liar and a thief.  You just picked the wrong room to start in.”  He stood up, and spoke to the guards.  “Bring her.”

“You’re taking me to the police?” Mary asked.

“Oh no,” Tubman said, still conversationally.  “You need far more of a lesson than that.”

———–

I do have to apologize for how long this has taken to come out.  I was away on course for a week and lost my internet connection.  The advantage, however, was that I got some good gaming in!

I’d had an idea on how I wanted this segment to go…and I knew in advance (sorta) how it had to end up.  I mean Mary has to get to Mars somehow right?  But then when I played it out, it played out beautfiully!  Ah the joy of Mythic!  And yes, I do realize we’re not on Mars yet…it took a little longer than I expected.  Not to fear though, it’s coming.

Mary Grace Callan

Posted: December 3, 2009 in RPG
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Barbara Stanwyck as Mary CallanMary wasn’t in California any more.

Despite the fact it was hot, dry and sandy, she knew this was not the California desert.  The first clue was the startlingly red sand.  The second was the startlingly red sky.  After being driven into the desert, Mary had been fairly certain she’d be killed or left to die.  Instead the fat bastard had shoved her through the…what?  What was that swirling vortex?  And how did he even know about it?  He seemed too know a great deal.  Then she found herself here, face down in the red sand, hot sun beating down.  There was no sign of water for miles.  At least she still had her pistol.

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