Friday, December 30, 2005

GURPS Transhuman: 2060

My writing hand hurts, but that's because I've started writing my setting! The setting takes place after a nuclear war, where urbanization has caused a lot of issues, especially as governments start to melt into little more than securities commissions for the agricorps, techcorps, and realcorps that actually control things. The US is pretty much written, with three major urban areas (Astropolis, Version City, and the Coast), as well as some surprises, and plenty of open highway and corporate intrusion. I have some basic ideas for corporate stuff (see above), but the important parts about infrastructure and Grid are laid out rudimentarily. Grid is like the Net, but with a lot borrowed from Shockwave Rider, and most communications devices relying on the shared bandwidth of the Grid, either from the blanket wireless of the major cities or the cable line draws in the smaller areas. An-Grid areas are those which are run by autonomous groups choosing to stay unknown by not connecting to the Grid. Although I'm not going to do I-G or any bullshit like that, there is a software program called Gspace which allows a person to put the grid pathways and URL line paths onto a GUI. Not useful for the hacking itself, but has many other uses.
Anyhoo. The US is laid out, I have a rudimentary picture of Europe, with Nuevo Praha as a new capital on the Mediterranean, but little else. Asia is similarly rudimentary, having the massive city of Tokyo, and agro to grow crops for food and fuel (agro being the 2060 term for farmland). Africa and South America I have nothing, but I know they should play a role.
As for tech, I don't know. due to the whole "war" thing it won't be what you'd expect for 55 years of development, and certain things like space travel are out of the question due to priority. However, cybernetics has evolved, as has genetic engineering....it's why I'm saying it'll be GURPS transhuman...a lot of the changes will be subtle changes to the human body itself.
Here, I'm asking. Send me ideas for the lower continents, ideas for tech of any sort, and ideas for corporate fleshing out of. Remember the tech level I'm looking at: a lot has been improved,and a lot is out there, but it's still fairly grounded to near-future. And even if I go on the nutty with this, the players may never see it, due to that wonderful concept of stratification. Oh well.

Stealthy/Pious Fun Facts!

A few interesting statistics:

81% of Stealthy/Pious viewers use Windows XP.
15% of Stealthy/Pious viewers use OS X.
4% of Stealthy/Pious viewers use Windows 98 (?!?!?!?).

12% of Stealthy/Pious viewers are returning viewers.

33% of Stealthy/Pious page views originate in Pennsylvania.

And finally, the top search engine for referrals to Stealthy/Pious is MSN.

Have a happy new year, and enjoy this next year. More juicy statistics next December!

Thursday, December 29, 2005

To apologize for my previous posts...

But more importantly, to tell you I can do something creative.
This is venting, both for the world breeding psychopaths (I can send you to some choice snippets from Livejournal, but I don't feel like losing readers to inexplicable emo), and for my high school gaming group being cads. The group I'm with now is pretty cool, and being exposed to all this "memory lane" high school shit helps me appreciate that.
Anyhoo. After some painful deliberation, I have decided that, unless my judgment of the hardcopy is different, I will not be buying Cyberpunk v3.0. Instead, I will purchase the GURPS basic set, either during the vacation or when I'm back at school (as scary as it is, Phantom of the Attic may be the best gaming shop I've set foot in, and I refuse to go to Danger Planet unless I know Jay won't be within 3 miles). I have, after some thought, decided to use my 3 city concepts (Nuevo Praha, Version City, and Astropolis), as well as a few of my plot ideas (Version City Mods, Syriana Intrigue and Oil Thirst, hell, maybe I'll bring back Cyberion and Prometheus for the hell of it) and make a unified world not based on either Gibson's or Pondsmith's ideas of Cyberpunk. I made the mistake of leaving my notebooks back in Pittsburgh, but I have my journal, so I'll start writing alternate history stuff and some outlines and shit. I'm afraid that a good amount of writing will take place after I buy sourcebooks, both because I think in game terms, and also, reading rules for an adaptable-setting system tends to give you some neat ideas. The world is not set in a lot of ways, so please, comment with things you think would be cool. I need coolness.

Jay, this song is dedicated to you...

The GMing Song
by Seanan McGuire (as inspired by the Story Arc, "PeeJee and Dragons")

Your characters are stupid --
Oh, wait, they're just like you!
You make these plans you think are grand,
But never think them through.
Kill the King, annoy the orcs,
Insult the druid's trees...
When you get disemboweled,
Don't you dare whine to me.

You think that it's inspired
To play the other sex;
You roll your dice but don't think twice
About what's coming next.
What part of 'consequences'
Can't burrow through your brain?
Well, after you've been slaughtered,
I'll just sing this refrain:

Rocks fall, everybody dies;
Death comes raining from the skies.
Whine whine whine, well, thank you all for sharing.
You say I'm not being fair --
Hey, wait, am I supposed to care?
Whine whine whine, look at me not caring!

Your motivation's lacking;
Your concept's uninspired.
Please go away, you shouldn't play
Once your brain's been retired.
Hack and slash and politics
Are bad things to combine.
You want to play things your way?
Well, tough, we're playing mine.

I want my players thinking.
I want your brain engaged.
You whine and cry then wonder why
I'm getting so enraged.
You're telling me I need you;
Well, moron, here's the thing.
The smart folks have umbrellas,
And all of us can sing:

Rocks fall, everybody dies;
Death comes raining from the skies.
Whine whine whine, well, thank you all for sharing.
You say I'm not being fair --
Hey, wait, am I supposed to care?
Whine whine whine, look at me not caring!

Yes, rocks fall, everybody dies,
I don't care how much you cry,
Whine whine whine, hey, moron, what's the matter?
Yes, I guess you'd better run --
Hey, I'm finally having fun!
Whine whine whine, watch the morons splatter!

somethingpositive.net

Webcomics remind me of how psychotic my high school gaming group was (is)

Something Positive: A take on Cyberpunk

Yeah, think I'm going to go with GURPS....

Read this storyline, but also go back and read Something Positive. Wonderful character development, and the author lives in Massachusetts.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Cyberpunk v3...it exists!

CPv3 is now out and kicking, available for instant gratification at DriveThruRPG and soon at many gaming stores. I have heard good things. I will be buying this book over break, and will post a full review of it in my next update. In the meanwhile, I am flying back to MA tomorrow, and have some packing to do. Happy Holidays, everyone!

Monday, December 12, 2005

Stream of Consciousness: Aqualung

This story is very different than any other one I've written. It was stream of consciousness, written while listening to Aqualung, by Jethro Tull. Do tell me what you think.

The park was barely illuminated, benches struck by arcs of lamplight cascading from the pillars by the short cobblestone path. Two friends walked away from the trail, meandering between the pines and shrubbery in the distance from the gate. They had known each other a good long time, and the evenings in the park had become a ritual for them. The wind was biting against exposed necks, and collars were brought up tightly. The conversation between them meandered from politics to romance, to cars and back to romance again. They were at the age of agitated men when one desires the one thing he will never comprehend to attain. Romance is a ballet of coincidences, borne from pure chance, and ending because pure chance is never really enough. Each wished to understand, but neither ever really would. They would walk home, knowing that in mutual frustration and in their own brand of empathy, friendship was sealed.

The next morning was a blinding flash of light, as they tended to be without an alarm. He woke up, and still unsatiated from the night before, took a walk down to his favorite café in the town center. The town was a small suburb, but close enough to a major city to have its own share of cafes and hipster “places”, zones in a warfare of retro t-shirts and ironic musical tastes. He passed by the local high school, seeing her once again. At 17, she was a good 6 years younger, firmly out of reach of logic. Remembering the commiseration of the night before, he knew man was not a logical creature, but he wasn’t going to push it anyway. He sat down at a wrought iron table outside the café with a bagel and a libertarian newspaper, sipping an Americano and listening to folk music on an iPod. It was Sunday, so work was off his mind, and he didn’t have another big assignment until Wednesday anyway. He took it slow, enjoying the crowd of emerging churchgoers, and realizing the oddity of seeing people at the school on a Sunday. To explain this thoroughly, she sat down at the table with him, gently removing the headphones from his ears. It was church services of course, another money-starved religious institution, meeting in the largest communal space available. Of course, she doesn’t really like church, or at least she said. It was why she was outside, listening to music and ignoring the sermon as actively as some tried to listen to it. He smiled, and explained the numerous coincidences. She knew. She enjoyed seeing him too. A small slip of paper with a phone number on it was left as she walked back to the school, now releasing the congregants from today’s indoctrination. The piece of paper made it into his wallet, and he walked back along the road playfully considering whether or not it was a good idea. Because in reality he already knew he was going to do this anyway.

They walked again that night, wandering aimlessly through pine and birch and oak. He told his friend of the interesting time, and his friend told him of his weekend, of his writing, of his thoughts, of his new job at a publishing company in the city. Maybe his book would be published this time, he said. They were both happy at their news, both of them felt like they were moving up in the world. They parted under a full moon, knowing where the years of friendship had emerged from.

He spent the next day writing, finishing his assignment days ahead of the deadline and sending it off to his editor straightaway. After the exultant reply, he curled up in a windowframe, breaking in his fourth leatherbound journal of that year. So many new thoughts, he felt that his creativity flowed. The phone rang at 3, and it was her. The day dallied into evening, and they got dinner at a small local place about two blocks down the road from the café they had met at the other day. Apparently her parents didn’t know. Apparently they shouldn’t, he joked. The dinner was good, and he hugged her goodnight at 9. He had good feelings about this, and wrote in bed until 11. Sleep was peaceful, and his dreams were filled with symbolism and bizarre images of clowns and daffodils.

He walked out again the next day, walking into the office for the morning, hearing another word of praise from his editor, and walking out at 2 after checking his mail. The day was as lazy as he, stratus pawing the cold sky as those below them pawed for scarves and mittens. As night fell, the sheet slowing the world cold was pulled taut, and he went walking again. The two friends walked through the woods, knowing their minds were full of secrets. He didn’t mention dinner. It seemed to fall out of the topics of worldly wisdom and worldly ignorance.

He wrote again. Curled within a ball of warmth from multitudinous sources, he passed the rest of the week in his own shell of creative zeal, not even knowing why. Friday emerged from the sepia-toned monotonies of the other weekdays, and he walked again. She was out by the café, cheeks streaked with tears. She was right not to tell her parents, apparently, as their independent decision was one involving being kept in the house for a number of weeks. And, she ran. So she couldn’t go back. He offered her a place to stay, though as they walked back together, it became increasingly unclear why he did that.

They woke up glowing, as he wasted no time, though neither did she. The intensity of feeling was there, though it was becoming less sure what this intensity was. They lay in bed together most of the morning, getting up to dine naked on old English muffins toasted with peanut butter. After lunch, they lay back down in his bed, making magnificent love until dinner, when they finally left the house and went out for sandwiches and beer. This happenstance confused him greatly, even as it revealed itself to be the source of his zeal. They went back home, falling asleep in his bed, cradling each other through the night.

The weekend continued in this way. He went walking Sunday night, slipping out after she had fallen asleep. They met in the park again, though his friend was feeling down today. Something wrong at home, from what he said. He was still happy with his successes, and had even met someone at the bar Saturday. But this cloud seemed to hold on him. These things happen, he knew. They had their brand of empathy, and he could still feel happy for his friend, even through his cloud. The cloud would lift. They always did.

She was not in school, it being that deep in winter. She talked of Christmas lights and holiday cheer, reminding him it was Friday. He would never have cared otherwise, but this was new and special, and he had to do something. She had haunts, places her parents did not know, and she spent time there, when she was not with him. He decided to get her a small gift, knowing he did not even put up a tree. It was a cute little bear, and he knew it was perfect. He ran home to wrap and hide it, and she was home a little later. They ate at home and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next night he went walking. His friend was distraught now. There was something very wrong at home. Someone was not going to be home for Christmas. He understood, offered him prayers for health and safety. They knew each other. It was their peculiar brand of empathy. They felt close because they held each other up. He hoped against hope neither of them would have grief in their holidays.

Friday came quickly, and they exchanged gifts under the light of a small menorah, mixing faiths like rum and coke. She squealed at the bear, and he adored the cable-knit sweater, which she confessed to having bought, as if it made a difference. They embraced, and slept in each others arms that night.

He walked on Christmas day. Walked with her, feeling at home with his cable-knit sweater and ironic tastes in music. They walked to his own sacred place, the park, together as he slowly started to open up his world. She knew the park, had taken walks here when she was young. So had he. It seemed so right. They felt brilliantly intimate, this illicit love that would not last, at least not in this way, past new years. It didn’t matter. She said this couldn’t have been a better Christmas, not at home, not anywhere.

He walked again that night, his friend near tears. It had not been a good Christmas for him. His parents were at home, distressed and fearful. His relatives were praying for them. It seemed that his sister was missing over Christmas.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Writing, Campaigns, and a General Roleplaying System

All righty. I have been considering my setting, and expanding it to a depth that would involve, essentially, me writing a good amount of the campaign from the ground up. As a result, I have decided to look in to buying a General Roleplaying System, where the rules are comprehensive enough for me to write my setting and world as I please, but without an established setting to limit either rules availability or my own creativity. Don't get me wrong, I still plan to buy v.3 when it comes out, but I'm kind of curious to see what sort of setting is there, and how well it works. Also, the two general systems can work well for all sorts of settings. The ones I'm thinking about are GURPS and Hero v.5. I've played a game based on Hero, Champions, and thought that the mechanics, though a bit complex, worked very well, and allowed for a great amount of flexibility in writing and running games. I have not played with GURPS before, but I have heard many good things, and it seems to be just what I want. I have not decided yet which to consider investing in, but as both seem to be good systems, outside input would help. As of yet, I have not met someone who has actually played both, but hopefully I will get some idea which works better for my purposes.