like a walnut, in your guts.

I'm working on another postscript session for the Serenity campaign that was conducted last school year. The majority of the game was played second semester of sophomore year, and the players really bonded over it. Since then, we've revisited the game twice; only twice because one player moved back home, 1000 miles away, and one player moved to a new home, about 60 miles away. Regardless, it's been a while.

The plot of the game was a small crew of morally solid Firefly/Serenity universe denizens attempting to survive on a whole lot of not much. It occurred in the months leading up to the Message featured in the movie Serenity. While the crew of Serenity was on Miranda being scared by dead people, the crew of the Mick was on board an Alliance cruiser, aiding in a mutiny against one of the scariest Admirals in the fleet, who also happened to have bought one of the PCs when she was a small child. The PC, Evie, escaped when she was about 17, but had been haunted by memories of her childhood and her surrogate "father" ever since. The campaign culminated in the captain of the Mick, Ian O'Malley, shooting his childhood rival in the halls of the cruiser, sparking the mutiny, and finally a showdown between Evie and the Admiral which ended with Ian putting a bullet into the Admiral's head.

The additional two "postscript" sessions occurred both before and after the climax of the "first season", so to speak. Due to me losing the character sheets, they were light on combat and heavy on the talking. Now that I've found them, expect more skills tests, ridiculous combat mechanics and blood. I chose to not deal with the direct results of the climax because I felt that I wasn't ready to narrate and resolve the issues that came up in it in the most dramatic, but also mature way possible.

The reason I'm telling you all this is because, in working on a session for this weekend (all the players will again be in town), I've realized quite exactly how much I miss this.

bad posturing

Do you ever get the feeling that you're too big, or too small, for normal, everyday objects and situations? I often experience this, even with very common things, or things you wouldn't think would be difficult. Many of my common mishaps include:
  • Sinks and mirrors. They're always too low. I like being able to see what my hair is doing, but sometimes that's not allowed, apparently. Washing your hands should also not hurt your back.
  • Cups. I've got a big nose, and sometimes cups don't line up right, and I just can't seem to drink out of them. It's too bad.
  • Small-necked string instruments, like violins and mandos. I've got big fingers, and big callouses. Not as big as mando players, but still. Makes me wonder how Ricky Scaggs manages to play, because, man, does that guy have sausage-fingers.
  • Urinals. Sometimes it's so bad that "splashback" occurs, and that's not even with the floorlength ones.
  • Toilets. Believe it or not, sometimes they're too high. I know, right? Turns out my thighs are just huge, both in length and in girth, which means all my height is there and in my abdomen.
  • Ellipticals. These are the bane of my workout existence. It's not fair. Everyone looks so graceful, loping along, watching TV, listening to Single Ladies; me? Nope, turns out my legs are too long, and I don't bend in the right places. I end up bouncing along, the gait not long enough, the machine trying to bend my knees somewhere around the thick portion of my shin...
  • Keyboards. this comes back to the whole big fingers problem, and is a big reason I'm waiting on getting a netbook (the other two big reasons being money and impending hardware advances).
Well, that's all I can think of at the moment. Thanks for tuning into another pretty awkward blog post.