Damn I Am Pretty Art Laboratories

I just finished a book on John Hay , All the Great Prizes .  I don't like negging on someone's work, but to call the book long and tiresome would understate it.  It did make me think, though, about how histories work best if they contain some sort of lesson in them.   All the Great Prizes is a biography of the life of John Hay.  The book caught my interest because John Hay is one of those bizarre individuals who bridges historical eras.  Like some others, they aren't the main cast of the history you hear about.  But you recognize the name if you know who the cast at different times were. John Hay served as one of Abraham Lincoln's private secretaries during his presidency.  Later, he served as Secretary of State under Theodore Roosevelt- right up to his death.  A man who lived the gilded age.  So a book on him certainly would catch my interest.  Hay was there at the birth of the Republican Party and the birth of the twentieth cent...

I like using time in interesting ways when I gamemaster.  Not just time travel.  Time skips forward, flashbacks and flashforwards all are tools I've used.  A lot.  I've had failures with them, but I've always found ways to use them properly. Time-manipulating narrative tools work best when they have a point.  Sometimes you can use time skips to "cheat" a weak story into something stronger.  But some of the best stories have a point behind it. Let me go over how I try to use prophecy and time skips.  I think I need to use them more often.  Time skips especially. PROPHECY! This is something everyone ends up having to try their hat at.  My favorite flavor of prophecy is specific though.  Wherein the characters move forward in time, then they can come back with foreknowledge.  Usually of some disaster.  This is great for foreshadowing.  It's also a great way to give players a way they can influence or alter the futur...

Lily stretched comfortably on her bed.   "Wake up Lily!"  Her white fur stood up as the alarm made her buzz.  Cyberware vibrated her awake. The alarm cut her slumbering nap short.  She had wanted to enjoy the engine's heat for a bit.  She blinked her eyes and stood up.  The feline fought back the urge to swat at the AR illusion of the ship's avatar that floated above her.  Artemis Dancing In Moonlight hung there, fabricated neural impulses and a grin that "Why did I program you to appear as part of that alarm?"  Lily grumbled.  Her voice rumbled. "We're nearly there, y'know."  The smiling, blue-haired ghostly AI illusion told her. "The firegate."  Lily reminded herself.  Her grogginess faded away.  Her curiosity made her eager.  She'd spent the better part of the last year training for this. "Everyone else is up.  They're congregating in the lounge for it." "Anyone piloting?"  Lily asked...

One of the fantasy tropes I prefer is that of talking animals.  Not as one time appearances, but entire communities of talking critters.  The trope has its problems for use.  But in a tabletop RPG, I like using it nonetheless. The trope of talking animals often comes across as cartoony.  There are potential pitfalls.  When I refer to talking animals, I mean animals who have the capacity to speak.  They can converse intelligently with humans. My key inspiration for this comes from Fables (the comic) and all sorts of  mythology. I can imagine the first pitfall to creating talking animal characters for a tabletop RPG.  It's a human, gamer-y one:  Thumbs.  The lack of them.  It's easy to see talking animals as being less successful PC options because of their lack of thumbs.  Or the means to use tools the same way humans can. Maybe it's whimsy, but I don't think the lack of opposable thumbs necessitates problems in a gam...

A bit of #flashfiction on #Crux for Wednesday? IDK.  Here's a sport in Crux, Pitball.  Maralda gets in a game, even though she doesn't understand the sport at all. Pitball.  Maralda frowned at her notebook.  Why did she think seeing a Pitball match would make this any easier? She'd only ever seen Pitball matches with Lahm.  Without him, she didn't quite understand how the sportworked. "This isn't the strangest game.  The Ursyklon brought it here thousands of years ago."  Maralda told herself. A pitball arena required looking down to watch it.  They played it beneath the feet of the spectators.  A series of ringed trenches.  The two teams of three moved in two different ways. One team had the ball at the start of the round.  Each team hid their hoop from view two.  Each team began the round in their own ringed trench or pit.  The goal was for the ball team to get the ball into the opposing team's hoop. But ...

No one chooses who are they are in this life.   It's a matter of discovery.  Tales and stories can sometimes illuminate the path.  But in truth, the quest of finding oneself is something one can only do for themselves. There is always a warning that comes with that quest.  A singular danger.  An instance of warning.  Do not fail to know thyself. This is where one can see the divergence between hero and villain.  Tales, legends and myths separate Monsters and Heroes.  Those who know who they are, or are trying to find out, they are the heroes.  The monsters are those who've lost themselves.  Or worse, Monsters are those who ignore who they are for the sake of their wants. I believe three kinds of figures make up history: heroes, monsters and gods.  History isn't accurate- it can't be.  But what role people are cast in, it's one of those three roles.   Why?  Because that's how myths write themselves.  His...

#Crux piece from Maralda about Kaze Skysword , and the legendary First City that Crux had descended from.  The City of Curses evolved from it.  Kaze claims to have found it.  Maralda knows the ferret Archaeologist, and has some reservations on whether or not he is speaking the truth.  Has he found the legendary city, or is the ferret pulling a hoax? The First City: Discovery or Hoax? This essay was first published in the Newblood issue of the 1785 Ariast Times Magazine . Kaze Skysword follows the footsteps of his grandmother, the founder of the Archaeologist class.  Yet his reputation oft makes his discoveries more question than certain.  His recent claims of many expeditions to the First City have yet to be borne out.  Yet the ferret continues to press for further expeditions. I've had more than a few meetings with the feyborn adventurer. I confess I think he's scum.  Ferret scum. My most recent interview with the slippery weasel (m...

#Crux blog post about Timewalkers.  Time travelers, wanderers, nomads and considered lunatics, Timewalkers patrol the places in Crux that bleed temporarily.  And they tend to create headaches for normal folk. The Incomprehensible Guild of Timewalkers. The tiny shack in Old Crux never made sense to me.  The plaque above it said it was a guildhall.  Yet, there wasn't much room in it.  The Guildhall of the Timewalkers looked more like a one-room hovel than some sort of headquarters. "Hello?"  I knocked on the rickety door.  It bobbed up and down with my knocks. No answer. I tried again.  "Hello?  I'm here for a interview-" "You!  I thought I told you never to come back here!" "Uh..."  I blinked.  "Excuse me, but I'm Maralda Inculti Tyranus, and I'm here to-" "Interview!"  The voice retorted.  "Yes, I bloody heard you.  I told you before, we ain't going to talk with the likes of you af...

A #Crux bit of #FlashFiction for #Monday.  Danyel Fyshir is a young Rosefolk boy, who besides refusing the veil men in his culture normally wear, is excited for his First Step.  This is the day Danyel takes his First Step in a Class.  It will define the rest of his life.  It isn't necessarily a choice, as the class you find is based on your own abilities.  Sometimes it is a choice, but other times, some find themselves forced into something that they can't get out of. Danyel Fyshir arrived at school early that day.  The school, the Rose Quarter's Chapel of the Machine, was full of the other students of his grade.  Twelve years of age, Fyshir wore the best suit he owned. He rushed down the steps of the Rose Quarter.  Despite being twelve years of age, Danyel had the height of most Rosefolk.  His dark, chocolate skin and fizzy black hair matched with the black and red of his waistcoat.  Smooth-faced, the young skinny boy looked l...

Does it exist?  Does it have a taste?  A smell?  What sound does it make?  Can you even remember it? It is hard to describe.  It is harder to comprehend. That is the nature of the Nihiloid.  One can't even remember what they look like.  The Nihiloid is made of nothing.  But that doesn't make it alive.  It doesn't make the nothing dead either. Death and life are somethings.  Nothingness is beyond that.  The Nihiloid are... aren't.  Monsters, People, Objects.  All of the above and none of the above either. Nihiloid are holes.  They don't exist.  Imagine all reality, all that exists, as a piece of paper.  Nihiloid are holes in the paper.  Holes in memory.  Holes in space. Sometimes one can see them.  After effects and echoes. But doing so is hard.  The mortal mind can't quite see the nothing that comprehends the Nihiloid.  It can't remember touching them.  Seeing them....

From the collected diaries of Maralda Inculti, circa 1785 AO. Dark grey clouds roiled above us.  Ueda Burning-Storm and I walked together through the Grand Bazaar.  The two of us always involved swapping stories.  I'd found the Tengu Brewer to always be somewhat inspirational.  Ueda tilted her head up above us.  Then she shrugged. "That still seems... curious to me."  I told her. "You expected the same answer?"  Ueda replied. "Well, I thought maybe Tengu worshipped the Voice outright.  I'm not surprised by the difference in claims on the First Bard." Ueda gave a brief leap into the air, letting a pair of cats rush past her.  I shook my head.  Graceful.  Like wind.  The Tengu Brewer just moved like a dancer, and didn't even seem surprised by it. "The Voice is..."  Ueda moved her talons as if weighing words.  "A past life of mine thinks of it like the Southern Wind, but is Sagely enough to know better than...