The Edge of the Internet

Chances are I will write more on the topics of this post then I will the others combined. I’m a weak man I have addictions. I smoke, I rip apart movies (some would say nit-pick. Those people can die of sphincter cancer.) I spend hours reading online comics. I game. Oh lord do I game. I admit this now, the rails my life runs on are family/friends to the left. The written word in many forms and smart dialogue on the right, the third rail though that’s gaming. I’m going to talk about the third rail here in greater detail then I have before, if I ever have at all. I’d have to check the scant archives, on second thought who cares if I have or not.

My time in vampire LARP’s has been schizophrenic of late. I don’t think a lot of people know or fully realize if they do but I’m not a member of the Camarilla’s domain of Vancouver any more. After eight years of efforts including some tears and one incident of blood I felt I couldn’t take watching people who should know better destroy all that I’d done to create. It was frustrating so I left. That was two years ago. Nothing changed in Vancouver to make me want to come back. That said I didn’t leave the Cam. Through a number of backroom deals that any Ancilla would applaud, I was transferred to the Northern Winds domain. It’s the Internet only domain that exists for Canadians with no local domain to attend. It works much better for me. So much so that I’m running their Requiem game for them. I still get to plot the machinations of vampires and their enemies but only through email, IRC and forums. I sit in front of a computer and gleefully write vampire. That sounds pathetic and lonely doesn’t it? It is in many regards but additions cause you to justify such behaviour as being positive. I’m content with my efforts there.

Here in Vancouver my interest in the NwoD requiem game has been rendered almost nil thanks to the apathy and mismanagement of many. I swear I want to slap the face off many an ST. Bloody children should not have elitist attitudes when they can’t provide an ounce of substantive game play.

I want to play in a game that actually happens at game not off camera in downtime. I want my Hamlet played by Laurence Olivier. I want him meaty, earthy, down in the muck and mire. I want him emotions written bold face and raw. But no I get art house fag theatre. (Yea that’s right I used fag derogatively. You’re all not brittle pc-saturated demagogues. You’ll survive.) I get high concept, conceptual Hamlet with John Gielgud playing him not at his best but as some ethereal grey tone watered down pussy that couldn’t last two seconds in the hale of the lightest sarcasm. When I raise even the slightest opinion (and we all know I’ve got them in buckets of various shades) you know what the retort is? “Well then just don’t play.” Holy Jebus on a cross I want to maim.

So what’s the option? Well there’s that other game. Navi keeps asking me when I’ll start playing. I honestly don’t know. I’m feeling burned out on vampire. Sure, I want to play but no, I don’t want to work at it. I want to be a Prima Dona or diva about it. I want to show up at the site have the ST staff smile that I’m there hand me a reasonable character sheet that’s not a Mekeht (Stupid, stupid clan) with goals and history installed. Have him tell me some simple direction on what they need, when they need it without suspicion or fear that I’m somehow magically going to ‘break’ the game and then waltz into play. Hell I’ll play the bartender role again. Just don’t make me jump through hoops. Yea I know that reads somewhat selfish, plenty of other people have been with my time gaming. No one says I can’t have some of my own back.

I did enjoy most of my time in the Mage game. A few people and ST’s have taken advantage of my good nature about LARPing demanding I behave as I have in previous characters because the liked playing with those characters. I’m trying to be forgiving, trying to take it all as the complement that I hope their intentions were, but damnbit I’d like to be allowed to experiment with my place in the game a little please. I’ll bloody well kiss the first person that engages me in a decent conversation that’s not a rehash of vampire politics 101 or about useless real world banalities. What self-respecting reality altering mage purposely goes to a meeting to discuss their fucking day doing laundry? Holy mother of God and Television try, just try to rub two synapses of imagination together before I ram a metaphoric fist down your gullet to rip your lungs out in an effort to stop your prattle. Please I’m weeping here. Further, I have a doctorate in vampire politics. I’ve blown more plots to entertain vampires out my nose in snotty gobs then anyone save two in the Cam. For pity sake try to play politically as a mage not a vampire you’ll catch me off guard. No seriously, you can’t blood bond me or catch me in a boon trap I’m a mage. I bend the universe to my will, so do you, act like it. I must go scream incoherently now.

I was informed at Aaron’s birthday BBQ that I’m running a Battletech game. Blink, blink, I am? Patrick asked me at Tim’s birthday when would I be running the game again. Geoff informed me that he wants to play again. Tim and Chris at times past floored me with revelations that they both enjoyed playing aspects of the game. Phil and Neal have gently leaned on me. Hint, hint. Hint, hint. Battletech is a harsh teasing mistress to me. She’s my dominatrix of gaming worlds. She coddles, conjols, woos and whispers sexy imaginations into the darker parts of my mind. She makes me crawl and beg on command. But will she let me between her legs? Hell no. yes damn I know I need to run something. I have binders full of poetry to her. I have file folders full of love letters to her on my computer. There are folios full of maps. I crave to run again, oh how I crave but final inspiration for plot… that escapes me. I will struggle on and see what I can do. What choice have I she consumes me.

Speaking of struggles, there is a yellow legal pad taunting me as well. Scratched upon it is the outline for a Decker only Matrix game to be run in conjunction with Tyler’s Project Mayhem Shadowrun game. I have the means of running this. There are players willing to play. I’ve let word out that I will do it. I just need to grow some balls and read the rules. I feel shame and pity for being a tease about it. It will happen… fuck there I go teasing again.

DnD 3.5 has seduced me. I was looking elsewhere as you’ve read when she snuck up on me and flashed her tits, the slut. The idea was I run ‘Keep on the Boarderlands’ using 3.5 rules you make first level characters and we just have a few laughs one Sunday afternoon. Then unbidden, supplements, Dungeon magazines, and old thoughts begain to flitter from shelves into my lap, things began to expand and ripen. An orgy of intent and imagination was purported on me. We started on Saturday, Rick, Jason, Geoff and I, it was innocent I assure you. Four days later after including Derek we called an end do to real world commitments. Dear God we wanted to capture the spirit of being twelve and fresh again, but four days of gaming DnD straight?

I have killed Jason and Rick’s characters then felt bad so I brought one back to life and warped reality for the other. I have sent one into a crisis of faith. Proved to another what it means to be useless in a fight. Seen the sorcerer refuse to cast his only potent spell by my actions as DM. Caused party wide argument, dissention in the ranks, and watched a tactician’s face crumble in the light of dwindling options neither he nor I could fix.

The party consists of a 2nd level human Fighter who thinks he’s in Nam, a re-born 1st level human Sorcerer who’s timid of his spells, a1st level Gnome Druid less said about that the better, and a 2nd level human Cleric with no faith. They’re only now heading into the module proper next game.

Lord help me I’ve created a monster.
What have I done, what have I done?

(Stupid Xman 3 movie.)

Posted by Silenzio at 1:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

So onward away from my fictional lives to my real life. As some of you learned at Tim’s very enjoyable birthday get together. I am currently a man of leisure, jobless but not destitute. Yes, I am looking for something new. Yes, I am allowing myself to be lazy about it. No, I’m not proud of the fact. Yes, you may ask me if I have found work yet. Yes, I will turn every jaded sarcastically mean spirited bastard thought I have on you in self-indulgent fury at having inadvertently reminded me of my personal failure to date to find employment. It will be fun. We’ll make a party of it.

Insert porn music as supplied by Tucker from volume four of Red vs. Blue as a tension breaker.

I never did tell you what happened on May 24 as promised. Here you go: I was riding the bus from 22nd street station. I was heading to Taco Del Mar after work. The bus got as far as Fifth Street then stopped. There was a wall of grey white smoke before us. Out of which I could see a mini van on fire. The bus was parked behind the mini van by two car lengths. The driver just sat there, people boarded the bus and waited. I looked to my direct right and saw the Esso station was doing good business. To my right I looked up at the three-story wall of glass that is the old entrance to the Zellers in the mall. Up the road is a canyon of concrete and steel. If the mini van blows up there is no way I’m not going to die. The mini van driver was running around trying to put out the fire by fanning it with his jacket. No one was batting an eye. No one was running to help him, people walked by the scene not two feet from it. People were pumping gas talking to their buddies, people just drove by like nothing was going on. The Esso station attended stepped out of his booth to fix the bop bottle display. I stood up, got off the bus and walked away in the opposite direction looking to but big buildings between the whole affair and me as quickly as possible. A few minutes passed before I heard the faintest of sirens in the air. It all felt like the start of one of those God awful bad horror films where death stalks the people that got away. I was disgusted with myself for not doing anything to help.

Moving on in the tour of my recent life we see that I’ve still not got a girlfriend. The last one broke up with me after New Years. It was a caustic event. I do feel scars, no that wasn’t a call for pity mail. Save that for Captain Emo and the Dysfunctional Rangers elsewhere in blog land. I’m not going to name names. I’m also smiling as I write that last bit. May face hurts now. I feel bitter about woman now, capricious feckless emotional puppeteers the lot of them. I’m going back to being celibate, less stress that way.

Robert and Phil haven’t been around lately. Robert went to Chek (sp) for a month to see his family back there. I miss late night coffee and rolling conversations with him. Phil is living in Florida for two months to see the birth of his son and to begin setting up house. I miss the constant stream of conversation with him as well. My closest friends are the ones who know how to have a dialogue with me that doesn’t centre wholly on them selves.

What else in my life… nothing really, God, I’m dull. Oh, turns out the house has had cable TV for the last two months. I think it’s hysterical when we moved in we made the decision to not have it and spent months convincing ourselves of this fact. Then we were all happy not to have it until the day we found we’d had it all along and no one knew. Then it was all testosterone chest thumping anger and territory reclaiming for having been apparently duped. Now some in the house are upset that what we didn’t want was there all along to be taken. No seriously, I laughed insanely.

Right that’s it nothing else to see here, well other then my gaming. Hell, my gaming addiction may as well be heroin. I’m going for a smoke.

Posted by Silenzio at 12:03 AM | Permalink

It would seem that I have not posted recently enough for a few people, myself included. It’s to the point of being asked to write anything just as long as I post. The idea of being asked to post intrigues and humours me. To think that someone finds anything of importance in me splattering trivial details about my hum drum life is necessary is laughable but also makes me shake my head. Anyone who knows me more then a month knows I have nothing interesting to say. I merely regurgitate things I’ve experienced elsewhere with the hint of emotion enough to make it seem important enough to listen to.

I was informed that one person likes reading fresh posts because it proves that I’m at least still in existence. Hearing that’s like being told people need to turn on radios to reassure themselves that music still exists. Probable not a good example, but I’m scrambling for words to write.

Today for me is in many ways a day of restarts and new beginnings. I’ve been lazy about something’s of late, this blog being one of them, my efforts at writing another. I’m in an odd position right now I have no job but if I continue being fiscally responsible that’s not a worry for the month. I have more free time then I’ve had in years but for it, I’ve little productive to show.

Have I taken the time to write something? No. two weeks and I’ve not filled a single page in my workbook with something new. This blog entry is the only thing I’ve created so far. It’s time to make some promises to myself. I wrote this long hand on Wednesday. I will follow it up on Friday with a post that has attached to it the most up to date edition of the Memory Garden. That means tonight I must get back on track with the editing and rewrites I need to do. Derek has promised me his chapter soon. If I get it by Friday I’ll include it, if not I’ll post it later. Jason has the next chapter after that, then me. I have saved somewhere around three thousand words already written for that chapter which will be fifteen. After that, I believe Carl will get the book then Helene. I’m being clever and switching them around to take Carl’s crutch of following Helene’s chapter away from him. That will take us to chapter 17 and I expect close to fifty thousand words. The field will open for someone new if they feel up to the challenge, then Derek leads off again. Who knows maybe the heroes will actually get somewhere. It’s only taken thirteen plus chapters to get them introduced and part of the team. Not complaining though I never though anything would be written at all.

This leaves my personal writing projects to catch up on. The first part of “Tales from Riddles” (July 18, 05) got a revamp along with some additional material. The origionals not there anymore. There’s an outline and some notes for the second part floating out there somewhere. I’ll need to net them and re-find the voice somehow. “Sir Augustus and Squire Richard” (January 17, 06) have a second part in long hand. I wrote it sometime ago but it needs to be polished severely. I also need to figure out what happens next with them. There’s also an idea for something theatrical written as the huge long run on sentence as well. The idea struck me before my father’s death and it seemed inappropriate to write it all out so soon after. Last, there exists a bunch of comic book reviews I owe Robert. I don’t know if he wants them anymore but I promised to write them and I’m going to hold to my promises. Which is the most important thing to learn about me from this blog today.

Posted by Silenzio at 4:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)