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I Do So Hate...
Jan. 24th, 2007 11:35 pm...having a headache.
It's nothing special, and nowhere near anything like what migraine sufferers have to put up with. Still, it's a pain in the...head.
Sunday, yeah. Massive moshing session, lots of daemons, coming over for fourteens and finding dodge, bounce and no effect coming the other way. There's something about monstering for a high level party, along the same lines of everyone's favourite goblins lining up to fight the brave adventurers. The wry smiles, the solemn and resigned glances between you and your cohorts, the wondering if, just maybe, one of you can get a lucky shot in and make one of these peramublatory tanks wince before you get obliterated amid shouts of "Can't touch this", "That all you got?" and "You're losing! Move faster!". We who were about to die would have saluted, but were regularly cut down before we got the chance. The party hid their injuries very well indeed - we were all under the impression they were untouched up until the final fight.
Somewhere amid the carnage, the plot resolved itself as intended and the party managed to banish James' plot monster to where he came from in the first place. So ended a plotline that had been a couple of years in the making and managed to understate itself very smoothly, interspersed as it was between the six-armed daemon with lethal pelvic thrust attacks, and a touching death scene for someone who ceased to ever have existed not ten minutes later. It put the party well and truly in charge of what had always threatened to be more about this demi-God they were fighting than saving the world. The Coup de Grace seemed over very quickly, but it was cold, hailing, dark and we all wanted to go the pub, so possibly circumstances could forgive it.
I need to learn to hold a camera steadier - I'd intended to have lots of atmospheric silhouette shots and relatively well-resolved fight scenes. In ISO 2000 weather, I should have done better, especially on the main field.
After having had a thought this week, I have to consider submitting plot to Nat for the 24Hr. Doubtless there will be the regular detractors, and possibly worse, the idea I have is not original. Indeed, given the right weblink a reasonably determined browser could possibly have a handle on the entire thing before the game.
These are probably enough reasons to knock it on the head before it goes any further, but I can't see any other way in which everyone could feasibly feel they are both involved and genuinely in danger, thereby earning their points. We become what we hate.
Once again, anyone willing to monster will be added to the still rather short list. Doesn't need to be for all of it, but a couple of hours here and there wouldn't go amiss - whenever and however you can.
I was challenged to do something I hadn't done in well over ten years by someone recently. It goes against every single instinct that the past decade in my life has forged in me, and on the surface, I can see no way in which they are wrong. The way I go about it, I cannot be hurt by it, I am never unpleasantly surprised and I circumvent any bad intentions by being forewarned about them. The motivation of who told me to do so is exceptionally powerful, however, and I find myself wondering if I have missed another trick and if things have changed. The instincts tell me I haven't, but I may find myself putting it out there once again in the hope I'm wrong.
Kind of hard to shake the image of placing your neck in a guillotine, and giving the switch to someone you barely know and don't remotely trust not to set it off, on the off chance they are a pacifist.
We fear that which we do not understand.
It's nothing special, and nowhere near anything like what migraine sufferers have to put up with. Still, it's a pain in the...head.
Sunday, yeah. Massive moshing session, lots of daemons, coming over for fourteens and finding dodge, bounce and no effect coming the other way. There's something about monstering for a high level party, along the same lines of everyone's favourite goblins lining up to fight the brave adventurers. The wry smiles, the solemn and resigned glances between you and your cohorts, the wondering if, just maybe, one of you can get a lucky shot in and make one of these peramublatory tanks wince before you get obliterated amid shouts of "Can't touch this", "That all you got?" and "You're losing! Move faster!". We who were about to die would have saluted, but were regularly cut down before we got the chance. The party hid their injuries very well indeed - we were all under the impression they were untouched up until the final fight.
Somewhere amid the carnage, the plot resolved itself as intended and the party managed to banish James' plot monster to where he came from in the first place. So ended a plotline that had been a couple of years in the making and managed to understate itself very smoothly, interspersed as it was between the six-armed daemon with lethal pelvic thrust attacks, and a touching death scene for someone who ceased to ever have existed not ten minutes later. It put the party well and truly in charge of what had always threatened to be more about this demi-God they were fighting than saving the world. The Coup de Grace seemed over very quickly, but it was cold, hailing, dark and we all wanted to go the pub, so possibly circumstances could forgive it.
I need to learn to hold a camera steadier - I'd intended to have lots of atmospheric silhouette shots and relatively well-resolved fight scenes. In ISO 2000 weather, I should have done better, especially on the main field.
After having had a thought this week, I have to consider submitting plot to Nat for the 24Hr. Doubtless there will be the regular detractors, and possibly worse, the idea I have is not original. Indeed, given the right weblink a reasonably determined browser could possibly have a handle on the entire thing before the game.
These are probably enough reasons to knock it on the head before it goes any further, but I can't see any other way in which everyone could feasibly feel they are both involved and genuinely in danger, thereby earning their points. We become what we hate.
Once again, anyone willing to monster will be added to the still rather short list. Doesn't need to be for all of it, but a couple of hours here and there wouldn't go amiss - whenever and however you can.
I was challenged to do something I hadn't done in well over ten years by someone recently. It goes against every single instinct that the past decade in my life has forged in me, and on the surface, I can see no way in which they are wrong. The way I go about it, I cannot be hurt by it, I am never unpleasantly surprised and I circumvent any bad intentions by being forewarned about them. The motivation of who told me to do so is exceptionally powerful, however, and I find myself wondering if I have missed another trick and if things have changed. The instincts tell me I haven't, but I may find myself putting it out there once again in the hope I'm wrong.
Kind of hard to shake the image of placing your neck in a guillotine, and giving the switch to someone you barely know and don't remotely trust not to set it off, on the off chance they are a pacifist.
We fear that which we do not understand.
