The Reptile Room

 Mild Spoilers for this book to follow!

"Do you know what sort of scientist he is?" she asked.

... "I'm afraid not," Mr. Poe admitted. I've been very busy making the arrangements for you three, and I didn't have much time for chit-chat."

Oh man, ow ow OW. The above made me think this book would stay with the true but familiar "Adults are stupid" trope, which Mr. Snicket likes to talk about. He's right, of course, and I don't think it's talked about enough. But I wasn't really going to write another review. Or rant. Or whatever the hell these are. They're probably exorcisms, at this point, knowing my luck. 

 But when Uncle Monty dies, the children realized that their last conversation with him was awful. They'd just figured out that Count Olaf  had snuck his way into Uncle Monty's house as "Stephano", and they were so distraught that they didn't really talk to Uncle Monty the rest of the day. Uncle Monty, the one who loved them fiercely and was utterly clueless as to the danger! And the children couldn't say anything to Uncle Monty, out of fear of dying themselves.

They wake up in the morning to find Uncle Monty dead.

And in that sickening moment they realize they had a moment to just be with Uncle Monty, and wasted it.

For those of you who have not experienced such a moment, you will be tempted to tell the Baudelaires they're being too hard on themselves. They couldn't help it.

Congrats, you just condescendingly described what the three children were experiencing. To blame themselves is not the point. To realize that they lost something before they even knew they lost it?

That is. The Point.

The rest of the text continues to subvert the Baudelaire's expectations. They're now aware they have a narrative, however dimly, and so they are trying to step outside of their own trance, to think, an act that is herculean, even on a good day. The Baudelaires don't have good days, do they? Oh wait, they did.

With Uncle Monty.

It is amazing to me, just how much the narrative twists around pushing the Baudelaires into doubting everything but one thing: Count Olaf. He's clearly got a lot of... trouble... in his soul, and who the hell sneezes into curtains except if you're crying so freaking hard that you need something, anything, wipe your nose? It's an odd thing to mention. It's very, very, very specific.

But the the thing that takes that cake for me is the end of the book. The Baudelaires actually get to say good-bye to someone. Yes, The Incredibly Deadly Viper counts. I didn't expect this. The Baudelaires realize they have a chance to say good-bye and move heaven and earth to get it done. They break out of the narrative they are powerless orphans and choose to do what genuinely matters.

Folks, that is actually a good ending. At least in my books. Funny how death is one of the few things to do this to us, by and large.

"It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair then there actually is. Your foot falls down, through the air and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things."

Queen of the Murder Scene

 

Paulina Villareal (Pau) is a force of nature. Loud and endlessly creative, she is proof of perpetual motion in the abstract. Give her a moment when she doesn't have to be behind her drumkit and Pau practically flies around the stage, barely able to contain the hurricane. Drumming seems to focus her, letting her put all that energy someplace amazing. She also appears to be the main lyricist for The Warning from here on out (more on that later), as well as the main composer. 

Pau, just on her own, has the strength to completely dominate a band.

But then there's Daniella (Dany), Pau's big sister. With an emotional core to match Pau's intensity, Dany takes to leading vocals like a duck to water. While Pau and Ale have a great vocal range, Dany has learned a subtlety to her vocal performances that would be the envy of someone at least double her age. Oh, and she's the rare guitarist without an ego. That may be more impressive, because Dany's guitars thread the needle of being show-stopping and subtle in equal turn.

Both of these sisters, just on their own, could be a band in themselves. It would be downright painful to be a third part in that line up; all competition would be crushed. Especially if it was a third sister. 

But Alejandra Villareal (Ale), like most third borns I've met, sidesteps the problem almost entirely. She loves to play, and play she does. And that's it, if Ale gets what she wants! There's a constant movement in the fandom to get Ale to sing more, which I've found a bit odd. In the live shows I've seen people call to Ale, and she blushes, and then gets back to what she's there for: playing the bass with her sisters. And Ale moves! She IS perpetual motion on a stage. Dancing back and forth, left and right, Ale throws herself into playing in a way I frequently find myself envying. Ale's bass growls and purrs, putting in texture and energy that you wouldn't think the trio would need, but man, it works. You don't hear Ale's bass so much as feel it rattling your bones. It's awesome. That's the last time I'll directly reference Ale.

Somehow I doubt she'll be too broken up about it.  

Put these three sisters together and you get one hell of a show. Dany soaks in the crowd while supporting her sisters, Pau exudes pure power while controlling things from behind the scenes, and a certain someone I said I wouldn't directly reference dances with an instrument that's trying to rattle your teeth in the best way possible.

So when I say their second album, Queen of the Murder Scene, is a fantastic album in its own right and is completely worthy of accolades, just on its own, I hope the above gives that statement some context. Sometimes there are bands that are specifically live bands; you listen to their albums because it's a hold-over till the next show. QotMS is a fantastic album, before you take into account The Warning's stage presence.

Queen of the Murder Scene is a concept album about a fan girl gone killer. It tracks her mental state from bemused, to vulnerable, to obsessed, to dangerous, to rampaging, to suicidal(?). It's a rollercoaster of a ride straight down to Hell, with great (and egoless!!) vocals, instrumentation, and lyrics. The album clocks in at twelve intense tracks, and plays in about an hour.

The vocals on this record are amazing. Pau opens and closes the album, belting out at max volume and going to chillingly quiet, seemingly without strain. I've no idea how the hell she does it, given she's not really taking it easy on the drums. I'm not sure anyone else knows, either. 

The rest of the main vocals are left to Dany. Oh, what a shame that is, let me tell ya! Dany's voice is put to good use here, especially in Stalker, one of the best middle songs I've ever heard on an album. More on that song later. It's a fantastic representation of Dany's emotive and technical ranges. Flipping from achingly vulnerable to roaring to barely a whisper, hardly without breathing, Dany makes it all sound easy. I mean, it's clearly not, but Dany certainly acts like it.

A certain someone I promised not to directly mention again does a lot of the backing vocals, effortlessly providing harmony. She blends well and I have a feeling that's what she'd want to hear. So that's where I'll leave it.

I've always been fascinated by three piece acts. There's a purity, a focus demanded of them that either makes them awful or amazing. Each person has to pull their weight in a very vulnerable way; if you screw up you can't hide behind a second or third guitar. There's definitely some additional effects and melodies The Warning put on here, but ultimately it comes down to their principle parts. Those are incredibly tight and focused; no one felt out of place or unbalanced.

I'll confess to being a bit of a blockhead about drumming. I've almost no sense of rhythm, both musically and in my daily life, and have a hard time hearing drums in particular. Pau is clearly working her butt off and I can hear the others relying upon her.  That is about as much as anyone can get from my uncultured self.

Yeah, I know that's disappointing.

I can tell she's a great drummer, but it's not my thing and I'm not going to pretend it is. If Pau took revenge by smacking me with a drumstick and then burning said stick I'd find that just. I mean, fair is fair. Although, should this ever be read by The Warning, I ask them to intercede in my case until Pau reads the end.

Dany's guitar continuously takes me off guard. Whether it's a soft ballad or the freaking title track (which is a trip through Hell, to put it lightly), she's always finding ways to add depth to the vocals, bass, and drums. Earlier I called Dany ego-less. What I meant by that is that Dany, while extremely technically proficient, seems to take great pains to not call attention to it, preferring to blend and enhance rather than be the star of the show. I keep getting the feeling throughout the album of Dany keeping a constant pulse on the other elements, more concerned with the overall health of the song than any glory she could very, very, very easily get. And if that's not the highest praise I could give a front-(wo)man, I don't know what is.

A certain someone I promised not to directly mention happens to be playing an instrument I've a great amount of bias towards. I adore listening to bass tracks, and will probably go deaf from jacking up the sound enough to hear bass lines. 

I don't have to do that here. The bass is just..well... correct. Every freaking time. And the texture is just sublime, enhancing all the other parts with gusto. I honestly find the bass the star of the show on this album. So there's that.

Pau, read till the end! I'm not done!

Folks, I am a complete snob about lyrics. I'll admit, I listen to one, just one, American band that has a vocalist with lyrics, and that's Switchfoot, because Jon Foreman can write the hell out of anything. This is generally why I stick with post-rock; I don't have to listen to garbage lyrics, and get songs that are more inside of my comfort range, time-wise.

The lyrics on this album are on a whole other level. Dust to Dust actually sparked a full table top RPG, which is just currently cooking in my brain. 

No, seriously. It's on the back burner as I work out Crescendo, but I am actively researching and throwing around concepts. It's a full on combat game that I'm thinking about calling Gnostics. Or Nephilim. We'll see.

Yes, I plan on attempting to mail the girls a copy of the game as a thank you. I don't know if they'd play it, but that's not a bridge I particularly need to cross right now, given the damn thing is in development.

The thing is, these lyrics show a level of sympathy that I'd not really considered before. Maybe it's just me, but there's a lack of authorial bias that I find refreshing. Pau, the main lyricist, seems very intent on chronicling. She assumes the music will contextualize what is being said and so the band leans hard into providing that nonverbal context.

The most important song on the album is Crimson Queen, written by Dany. Without this song the album wouldn't work as well as it does. This brief moment of attempted innocence, the pleading of a lonely soul for meaning in relationship, the consternation and confusion over what is happening to her, is absolutely necessary to the album. Lesser artists would have left this song off the record, trying to stick to "genre". 

The fact that The Warning stuck this part of the character so completely is nothing short of a miracle.

Beyond Dust to Dust and Crimson Queen the standout is Stalker. Quietly menacing, endlessly complex, and deeply disturbed in its honesty, Stalker was the song that convinced me the band knew what it was doing.  This was the moment where the girl snapped. Something went wrong. And she needed more. So. Much. More. She knew it was wrong, but couldn't stop herself anymore. And didn't want to.

I find that sorta thing heartbreakingly beautiful. That sympathy is rare. I wish we saw more of it in our culture.

The rest of the songs on the album continue the through line, and do an admirable job... until This Is The End.

I'll admit, the placement made me chuckle. Sorta like "Less is More" as the ending track for a 17 track Relient K album. There's a self-awareness I appreciate. That being said, This Is The End shows a total sympathy for despair itself. And, like I've said before, I wish we saw more of that kind of sympathy.

So yeah, it's a special album to me. I find I'm a better person and artist for having it around.

Hopefully I won't be walking down the street, only to be knocked on the head by a random pair of drumsticks... Not to mention a bass. The bass may actually kill me, although I doubt the person I promised not to mention directly would waste something that beautiful on my skull.

Drumsticks, though, can be applied in many horrible areas I'd rather not think about. Long, slow painful deaths and all that.

If that happens the authorities can use this blog post as motive.

Y'know, in looking for the Queens of the Murder Scene?

Okay, I may have obscured the culprits just now, for how awful that pun was. Cause if everyone on the planet isn't looking to kill me now then I don't know people.

I mean, I know I thought about it. And I'm the one laughing!

"You Are My Enemy"

I think most people, when they think of prayer, are trying to find warm fuzzies and focus on them. And it's not like popular Roman Catholic works don't put forward this form of thinking: think about God and His blessings and how lovey-dovey He is and don't focus on the fact that most of the people that really love God suffer a whole hell of a lot and my goodness isn't His Light amazing and why is Elijah over there wanting to die from sheer despair and....

And there I go, off on another rant.

Let's just let me keep doing that, cool?

Cool.

I'm nervous. This is not a happy memory. It's a good memory, but not a pleasant one.

See, after I remembered the rape, I had more than a space of a year where it was constant, horrific, urgent flashbacks. Every day I woke up, I immediately regretted it. There'd always be something new and horrifying waiting in my mind, demanding my attention away from my incredible family. There was about a space of six months where I practically swam in memories of screaming, laughing at said screaming, and weird physical sensations that I... some truly sickening stuff happened in my body. Still, at the end of the day I'd sit down, and try to do exactly what the first paragraph was talking about. Now, if you had asked me, I would have said I wasn't doing that.

You want a quick clue on how humans operate? It's hard won.

People have no idea what they're talking about when it comes to themselves, hardly ever. Self deception is normal. I expect it the same way I automatically breathe now. Well, I hope I do. Maybe.

So yes, I was trying to do the opening paragraph. And I hit a wall. See, that particular day had been filled with memories of me hating everyone and everything and wanting the whole world to burn in a firey hell-hole and to watch everyone I knew and thought I loved suffer for abandoning me to this monstrous fate I'd been dealt.... at six. Whole days, just re-experiencing a level of rage about being unable to communicate what had happened to me and hating everyone else for not even guessing that something might be wrong with me. Resentment is not a good enough word. It's not nearly strong enough. I wanted everyone to suffer like I was suffering. 

I spent the whole day in the present trying not to inflict my wife and child with this suffering. I succeeded... mostly. I was an unconscionable pain in my wife's backside, and somehow managed to not traumatize my firstborn. It took every last ounce of my willpower not to walk around screaming all day long.

So when I got to the end of the day? I was totally tapped out. There was nothing left. And I do mean nothing. All I had left was rage, hatred, and a burning, urgent need to burn it all down. Still I knelt. Still I tried.

And I finally gave up.

I gave in. 

I began the slide into a place where darkness was not the absence of light, but was an active, positive force, all on its own. I began to feel it in my body and to like it. I let myself like the feeling. 

And all of a sudden it got all quiet in my head. Oh, the Silence! Merciful, merciful, merciful Silence!

You are my enemy, said a Voice. It wasn't an accusation. There wasn't any vitriol. No anger. If anything, it was gentle. Like a soft breeze in summer. The Voice was refreshing, and the words... the words drilled me all the way down. This gentle breeze hurt. I sobbed, body convulsing in pain. My fingers and toes began to tingle and I felt like I was on fire, complete with the lack of oxygen that actually kills people who are burned at the stake. I smelled sulfur. 

I promise you I did.

"But... but You have mercy on Your enemies!" I cried out. "You take pity on those who hate You. And I hate You with everything in my existence. You let this happen to me, FUCK YOU!" I found myself howling. "I hate everything about You! I am Your enemy! I have never not been Your enemy!" I was  before the icons I had painted for my family, body contorted into something vaguely resembling a rabid wolf the pack leaves behind to die.

The Silence returned. Oh, merciful merciful interior Silence. My body slumped. My forehead was on the ground. "You treat Your enemies better than they treat themselves" came out of my mouth. "Please, treat me as an enemy. Judge, flay, whatever it is You do. But, whatever You do, don't leave me with whatever this is. Please!!!"

Happily.

I curled up in front of my icon corner and sobbed. My chotki was against my face, tassel pressed against my eyes. My whole body shook and I wondered briefly if I was going to rip the prayer rope in half. I certainly had enough pressure on it to do so. But the chotki held. And I kept crying. I felt like my soul was vomiting something alive out of it. It felt like Someone had reached down my throat and was pulling something, something alive, out. And each sob forced it out a little bit more. 

And then. 

Just like that.

It was out.

Silence reigned supreme. And I lay on the ground, basking in it, exhausted but relieved. I got up, said my rope of 100 Jesus Prayers.

Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, have mercy on me the sinner.

And then I went to bed.

I woke up the next morning to do it all over again. But this time I faced the ever-present darkness with a bit of a sarcastic humor. Go ahead. Break me. Let's see what happens when you do I told the trauma. 

Since then I've found that the only thing that seems to return  me to that Silence to me is to admit, flat out, that I am its Enemy. Not with rage. Not with self-loathing. But as a statement of fact. And I won't pretend that I do it all that often. Like I said before, self-deception is the norm of humanity. We are not a good race. Our thoughts are not good, and we like to pretend they are. We like to pretend that somehow we are good, even though the world we are in is a nightmare reflection of our nonsense. But it's not the truth.

There is only One Who is Good. Period.

And when that is acknowledged He shows up, without delay. He does not hurry like we do. He waits. And when we are ready, He comes and brings Silence.

Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, haver mercy on me the sinner. 

I am such a wretch. 

Suihkulahde: Session Thirteen

I wasn't nearly as nervous about returning this story as I thought I would be. Over the last few months I've beening playing Hearts of Wulin and Against the Darkmaster, and just... decompressing. After two to three campaigns a week for almost two years I'd just... needed some time off. Playing other games, after drinking from the fountain of Burning Wheel so intensely, was a really eye-opening experience for me, and gave me a bit more perspective on what I wanted out of Burning Wheel in the first place.

And let's be honest: I was definitely trying to live up to The Undertow. That campaign was absolutely the type of journey I wanted to have in RPGs, and I wanted to do it again. That, of course, is stupid. I can't do it again, that's what makes it special! With a bit more perspective (and two different stories/systems) I was ready to go.

Last arc on...

Anneli was on dail way to save the world... and literally had dail sister, (a now pregnant) Nomi, dropped into dail lap. With a magic sword. Nomi had not only betrayed Anneli, but had been personally responsible for torturing and injuring Thungal and Fingar, Anneli's friends. They did not take to this kindly. Anneli and Nomi had to kill them both as The Light from Mikansia's sacrifice faded.

And then they were back in time, with Nomi on the ship. Thungal remembered the alternate future and cracked. They left Thungal on an Island with some folks who might have been able to help dai. They then got caught up with Leviathan, almost giving into his influence.

Anneli and Nomi then used Sydanelma to go further back in time, to try and stop Aloysius from killing Nomi's husband, The Crown Prince of the Argentum Empire, Constantine. They failed, in part because Anneli had left Aloysius, not knowing he would be kidnapped... and stabbed with a Dagger of Betrayal, making his killing of Constantine not of his own volition. Nomi's wrath was almost incalculable. 

They came back to the present to find that Fingar's brain had broken as well; Fingar stabbed Anneli, who met Mikansia as she was about to go through The Gate. Mikansia's mentor and friend, Akseli, gave a part of himself to Anneli so dai could return to the world. Anneli returned just as Nomi killed Fingar. 

Thungal came, utterly transformed by evil, with an army of twisted things at her back. Anneli and Nomi fought her in the pounding surf on the beach. Anneli was wounded in the head and went down like a rock. Nomi killed Thungal. And then stayed by dail sister's side, even though there was really nothing Nomi could for Anneli. 

Telos and Marian helped get Anneli stitched up. A few months into the process of Anneli healing they left to deal with the fact that the sun hadn't returned. They said if they didn't come back within four months they were in trouble.

It's been five months. Anneli is now fully healed.

So I knew I wanted to keep tying all three campaigns together, ever tighter and tighter. I want them to be three parts of the same story. Just the concept of doing a trilogy is so freaking cool that I couldn't avoid it. So I figured out a way to do it: Aloysius, Alpertti (the Crowned Prince of the elves from The Undertow), and Tara (the human lover and betrayer of Spar from Sabina's Castle, who should be dead) would show up, looking for Anneli and Nomi. I figured that would get quite a reaction out of Andy and Lena. 

Whaddaya know, I was right! Here's what they gave me, before the session.

Anneli

B1. Something has changed about Aloysius; I will cut to the truth of his heart.

B2. Nomi is changing; I will give dai the spark of a new ideal.

B3. My bond with Akseli is profoundly new; I will learn how to strengthen it.

I1. Akseli Instinct: Always rely on others.

I2. Always let Nomi draw steel first.

I3. Never abandon kin.

Traits: Call of the Island, Dreamer, Mortally Wounded in the Head, Shaky Hands, Bound to Akseli, Commanding Aura, Driven (Pilot), Aura of Determination

One of the many things I enjoy about Andy's RPing is how fully he buys into the concept he's set up. Anneli wants to be the hero. Dai thinks heroism is a necessity, a duty. Like, no matter what happens Anneli has this drive to do the right and idealistic thing. It's a lot of fun to watch the character get battered, but I still walk out impressed by how Andy has this core of Anneli down.

If I had to boil down what a GM's duty, his first job, was then I'd say it was to enjoy your players. Find the things you enjoy about them and encourage those things.

Nomi

B1. I trust Fish’s truthfulness; I will gladly help him ensure Tara isn’t a problem. 

B2. Whatever new idealistic game the prince is playing at here, I cannot trust mu to have accurate intel or read of the situation

B3. I can’t afford to grieve; there is more to be done.

I1. Always act towards my own goals first

I2. Always bend the truth when advantageous

I3. Never put my son in unnecessary danger

Traits: Call of the Sea, Spite, Deceptive, Compulsive Liar, Memory’s Influence, Guarded, Charismatic,   Pregnant, The Killer, Familial Loyalty

 See, this was the character I was really excited to watch this particular session. Nomi had been close associates with Prince Alpertti's father, before dai had started to get dai's life together. Nomi had a very particular opinion of Alpertti, as a goody-two-shoes who needed a serious dose of real life. That and seeing how Fish handled Tara (who he had killed awhile back) was another thing I really looked forward to.

Anneli had taken to walks on the beach and sitting contemplatively, slowly recovering dail strength. Fish was also taken this form of recreation, and the two took to sitting on the beach together, watching the dark waters, torch in hand. Nomi had kept herself busy with tasks to keep her mind busy and distracted/focused. Keeping food stocked, small tasks to prep the ship, and so forth. Nomi did not want to be sitting still.

Now, we'd already talked about the situation, but I didn't want to start in media res. Burning Wheel has never really been an in media res game to me. I've always wanted to savor it. For me, my primary inspiration for fantasy are the treks of Tolkien, the surrealistic sadness of Gaiman, the paradoxes of Wolfe. And those require set-up, not rushing... time. They require time. And it had been months. I wanted to just... sit... in it for a little while.

There was the sensation of approaching lowering airship- there was a familiar change in air pressure - nearby. Everyone independently goes to investigate. Aloysious and an incredibly pale redheaded woman, with an eyepatch come off this definitely elven airship. Anneli had spotted an elf flying the thing but couldn’t make it out. The ship was circling the ground in a textbook landing pattern, as in, learned from a book not the maneuvers of an experienced captain, with lots of wobbles. 

As soon as he saw the red-headed woman, Fish charged her, knife appearing out of nowhere.

Aloysious reaches down and picked him up, tossing him straight into the ocean.  Fish bobbed and sputtered, but couldn’t swim. Nomi had been stunned into silence for a moment, not expecting to see Aloysious again quite so soon after…everything. Anneli held dailself back to see what would happen, choosing to not get involved yet in a fight. Nomi angrily sputtered at Aloysious and went to pull Fish in out of the water.

This was a Steel test on Nomi's part, which dai failed pretty epically. Andy did not want to make a Steel roll, given that he did not want to intervene. He watched with great amusement as Lena had Nomi go out, yelling and cussing at Aloysius for throwing Fish so far.

After Nomi went to get Fish, Prince Alpertti exited the ship. Anneli tried to make the appropriate respectful greeting but it was a little awkward as Prince Alpertti was a dai now, and no longer a mu. There was talk about respect being based on grief and social hierarchy, and how complex it could be to work it out. Alpertti brushed it off: it wasn't important right now. Prince Alpertti asked if dai as talking to Anneli, and then asked where Nomi and Sydanelma was. Anneli pointed; the glimmer of Sydanelma could be seen from where Nomi unbuckled and left her, at the waters edge. Prince Alpertti asked what were they doing here. Anneli was flowery and gave a cryptic answer. 

Nomi stomped back up, cussing Aloysious out, and realized the crown prince was present. Nomi didn't respect him personally, but did attempt a socially appropriate acknowledgement.

Fish charged Tara again; this time Aloysious knocked him out cold. Nomi drew Sydanelma from the beach and demanded to know who Tara was and why they were there. Seeing Nomi brought back something painful for Alpertti. There was an exchange about how she was unworthy to carry that sword and if he hadn’t had it on good authority from someone dai trusted, that dai would have killed Nomi where she stood. Nomi cooly replied that dai felt the same way. Anneli tried to settle the building tensions. Everyone turned and snapped at dai.

We were definitely just jawing at this point. Honestly I'd just missed all these characters enough to where I really didn't want to do a lot of mechanical stuff. I could have and probably should have called for rolls a good deal sooner than I did, but Andy and Lena play off of each other so well I just enjoyed hearing the chatter. Eventually  I made Andy make a check... which he failed. And we got a good laugh out of it.

Alpertti said dai had been visited by Mikansia in a dream, and had been told to collect them. Alpertti was looking for Anneli, as one of dai's few remaining captains, and Nomi, the bearer Sydanelma, sword of legend, because dai needed to find hope for dail people. Alpertti talked about how the Ring was nearly destroyed in confrontation with the Nameless, how Mikansia saved them. But there was still immense collateral: the Ring of Tears, the home of the elves, was nearly destroyed. Many had died. Would Nomi and Anneli come, to help bring hope?

 Anneli focused on the fact that what they were doing here was more important, without actually explaining anything. Nomi said Alpertti was being such a typical arrogant noble; dai just assumed they’d drop their plans to come at his beck and call. Alpertti was angry: "If you wont answer me, and just want to sit around and fight, go fuck yourselves for all I care, I’ll go die holding my people if I must." Prince Alpertti stormed off to go start undocking the ship and fumbling with knots. "COMMONERS!

Nomi teased Alpertti about dail bad knots but wanted to know what happened to Mikansia. Alpertti told Nomi about Mikansia's death, and kinda half apologized for losing dail temper. Nomi also softened a touch and mentioned that dai hadn’t been part of the cult for some time now, and only wanted to save the Ring not see it ripped apart. Prince Alpertti knew, that’s the only reason he was even willing to talk to Nomi at all; dai had many things to do other than talk to those who would ignore dai.

Anneli talked with Aloysious and Tara, sorting out a little of their stories. Tara mentioned having a dagger put in her back by Fish, and that being why he hated her for turning him into a dragon. “It’s the dagger that binds us all together.” said Anneli. Tara quipped that it bound Anneli just as much as it did everyone else. Tara was strange, in how she spoke and moved. Not quite alive exactly…cracking sounds, head spinning, no teeth, odd vocal quality. Even Tara wasn't quite sure why she was there but she was certainly willing to believe in destiny, considering.

Before dai left, Alpertti tried to remind Anneli of the oath  dail had taken, as one of Alerpitti's captains. Alpertti released Anneli if dai was clearly unwilling to follow it. Anneli spoke to Nomi directly, about having an idea since dai was the only true captain here. Nomi caught the glint of what Anneli was doing and was only too happy to support Captain Anneli at Alpertti’s expense.

Anneli addressed Tara and Aloysius directly, demanding to be let aboard as the only true captain here. Tara sort of laughed and asked why, what did she plan to do. There was a bit of a steel-off, Anneli trying to maintain authoritative composure to let Tara rant herself out. Tara being pragmatic and wanting something known versus gambling on an unknown risk, since Anneli wasn’t offering anything descriptive. Anneli mentioned walking amongst the flows of time, and other beautiful descriptions of their experience, and how dai didn’t present what they were looking for because dai held the key, the key to the Island. If they really wanted to do this, then they needed to let dai aboard and give dai the ship because her path was the one that could do something. They should be helping Anneli and Nomi and not the other way around. To help sway the balance and knowing the sword carried some sense of awe to these people, Nomi held up Sydanelma and asked if they'd really rather bring back what they called the sword of legend just to serve as some figurehead, or if they wouldn’t really rather it be doing what it was meant to do, here, actively working.

So this whole thing was going and going and going. I was really enjoying RP'ing Alpertti, whose evolution since The Undertow had been something I'd found really interesting. Alpertti, who had once been such an idealist, had been changed by the constant death of dail people. This young monarch loomed large and pitiable in my mind. So Andy and I kinda got into it.... and I kept expecting him to make a call for a roll. I don't know why I did, but I was having fun, so off I went! Finally I made it clear that if Andy wanted a roll I was more than to do so, but I was having fun. Andy said he'd been hoping for a roll five minutes ago!

Abashed, I called for an Oratory roll. Lena threw in a helping die and and advantage die from Sydanelma. I put the obstacle at 8; Alpertti was not amused in the slightest, Tara didn't give a crap for flowery speeches, and Aloysius refused to get involved. Andy just barely passed.

Alpertti…sighed kind of sadly but agreed to give Anneli the ship to use if she would first return dai to Kohtae Mah, as his place was with his people. Anneli agreed. Aloysious told Nomi to kill him, his life was in her hands. Nomi…surprisingly couldn’t bring herself to do it. Aloysius said he remembered two time lines, how was this possible? Nomi and Anneli said they did as well. Aloysius said he owed his life to the both of them. Nomi but said he could start paying that debt by carrying the unconscious Fish up to the ship. He did. Nomi warned Tara to stay out of the way going forward; Tara chuckled and said the ship was a bit small for that.

Anneli walked the ship to begin learning the feel of handling the new vessel and its operations. This was Alpertti’s personal vessel, top of the line and super fancy. Anneli promised to bring it back but mentioned not having the best track record for keeping ships intact. There was an awkward call back look to Nomi for dai's prior sabotage of Anneli's first ship.

It was agreed and done. Anneli took command of the prince’s vessel Isän Rakkaus: Father's Love. They set off into the black sky.

So that was the first session after the break! Light on mechanics, but man it felt good to be back in this world. With this game. I can't wait to do the next session. I've really missed this game. Even though I'm in the middle of designing my own there is a special place in my heart for Burning Wheel, a spot that I doubt it will ever leave.

A sincere thanks to Lena for taking the notes for this session. I needed the help!

The Bad Beginning

 

The only difference between children and adults is power.

On my Facebook I put up a picture of this book and called it "light reading". I was halfway joking, of course. I heard a lot of the front half of this series while I was a teenager, as my father read it to my younger siblings. I know it's a stupidly dark series, this book is about legalized child rape, after all! But, given that I've been climbing through books about the history of the 19th century and... well.... anything by Wolfe... I just thought I'd take a quick break into something simple.

And I'll admit it! The level of self-satisfaction in saying that is immense. There is a smugness to that comment that is very hard to cop to. Ooh, look at how smart I am! Looky me! Most of my life has been spent watching as groups of people make phenomenally stupid decisions that I am on the wrong end of.  It is satisfying to be able to sit down in front of a computer and vent how broken perception is,  because for me it is a way of trying to communicate that we inherently step on me, a white man living in the United States.

So in other words one of the most deluded class of individuals living in a country that is a personification of Mordor (if there ever was one) is complaining about how he is being stepped on inherently in a world where the "Not-Slavery" of the UAE, which I have spent time defending in a military capacity, exists.

The only difference between children and adults is power.

But you know what? It's fine! I can make these complaints while at my incredibly cushy job. Yeah, sure, it's stressful as hell, but I'm with the freaking government! I get health insurance the rest of the country pines for. I'm at 90% disability from the VA, for the rest of my life. That's right! There's a  pay-out (tax free!) from the VA for the pain and suffering the idiotic military put me through. And what's more I could sit down and try to make a case for 100%, which would give me (tax-free!) an income that equals (if not beats) what some of my friends make in a year, for doing nothing more than having some pieces of paper in with a government agency.

But no, somewhere in my head there's a narrative that somehow I have an extremely hard life. And I have the power to buy into that narrative. Because that's what defines an adult.

If my children made a claim about being unfortunate half as ridiculous as that you know I'd put them in their place. "Look at the blessings you have! Surely the fact that you're with Mom and I outweighs them, and we love you and will help you with the rest", is probably what I'd tell my six and three year old. I have the power to make sure that they get a good stiff reality check. Hopefully I wouldn't be too much of a dick about it but... Yeah.

The only difference between children and adults is power.

The adults in The Bad Beginning all have one thing in common: they're all hopelessly deluded. The banker, the judge, the evil man, they're all nice or not nice or just flat out evil or whatever, but they're all lost in a constructed world that the children don't have the power to go into. The orphans can't escape Olaf. They can momentarily lose themselves in something, but they cannot escape the situation that Olaf is after them. The adults? They don't have to look at that. No, they've spent their lives building up narratives and lies known as legality that allow them to look the other way, reflexively. 

But the children don't have the power to look away, not for long. They can't play the game because the game is power. And children have very little to none. They have to deal with the fact that the world is a wretchedly sad place. They can't lose themselves in drugs (no money for children to buy them because adults are hypocritical assholes), they can't bury themselves in their work (children are not mature enough for work that adults are certainly not qualified for, adults are hypocritical assholes), and they certainly can't plot revenge (adults are greedy about this last point especially because...), so they're just stuck.

But adults can. And they do.

The only fictional part of this book, besides the supposed absurdity of Count Olaf, is the children winning at the end. It is a false promise, made with a nudge and a wink from Mr. Snicket to us. Because the rest of us? 

We didn't win. We just got power.

And thus became an adult.

And can now ignore children, who are stuck until they get power.

Woe upon you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites that encompass sea and land to gain a single proselyte, and then make the proselyte twice as worthy of damnation as yourselves. Matthew 23:15 

If you doubt that, I'll ask you if the below photo is a little girl dressing up for fun or not.

Go ahead! Guess!

Hint: the fact that you can guess it's play-acting is because you have the power to delude yourself. I assure you she doesn't. And someday she will. I hope we didn't make her like us.

Light read indeed.

The Green Knight and Inherited Narrative

I have a bit of a pet peeve with adaptations. You will almost never find me liking them, particularly ones that attempt to adapt Christian works. So yes, that means I think the LOTR movies are hot freaking garbage, not to mention the new Chronicles of Narnia. I find the points and ethos are completely missing, which is something I demand from an adaptation. How this ties into my roleplaying game Crescendo will be tangential, but important.

So recently I finished Tolkien's adaptation of The Green Knight, and I find myself scratching my head. Folks tell me this is a very difficult story to understand. It's really not. See, there's this funny little thing at the very beginning of the poem:

It is When the siege and the assault had ceased at Troy,

and the fortress fell in flame to firebrands and ashes,

the traitor who the contrivance of treason there fashioned

was tried for his treachery, the most true upon earth—

it was Æneas the noble and his renowned kindred

who then laid under them lands, and lords became

of well-nigh all the wealth in the Western Isles.

When royal Romulus to Rome his road had taken,

in great pomp and pride he peopled it first,

and named it with his own name that yet now it bears;

Tirius went to Tuscany and towns founded,

Langaberde in Lombardy uplifted halls,

and far over the French flood Felix Brutus

on many a broad bank and brae Britain established

full fair,

where strange things, strife and sadness,

at whiles in the land did fare,

and each other grief and gladness

oft fast have followed there.

It is an acknowledged fact that pre-modern civilizations believed in a universal history. It is, to the best of my knowledge, a universal idea that we have no inkling of, and therefore scoff at. When folks of differing civilizations met up they compared gods to figure out if they were worshipping the same gods. Names and slight differences in portfolios did not perturb them one bit, as everyone acknowledged that the beings they were talking about were beyond them and if they could learn something new from each other they did. The greatest case that most moderns will accept? Rome's almost whole-sale co-opting of the Greek gods and hell, just Greek culture in general. But the one that we've been taught doesn't exist is Christianity's adoption of practically every mythological framework they've come acrost, assuming the state did not interfere with their efforts. 

Far from cutting out Greco-Roman and Norse mythology Christianity integrated it, forming a fusion. That was normal for the pre-modern world. 

"Nathan, where are you going with this?" You may ask.

Well, I'll tell you.

Turns out comic  book nerds were right: it's all the same story. Pre-moderns assumed their stories fit inside the mythological framework they'd already been given, contradictions and all. So the Green Knight is a sequel to the Iliad, Odyssey, and Aeneid. It is not a stand-alone story, and was never assumed to be by the anonymous author. By spending two chapters/sections talking about Troy, the founding of Rome and Britain, the author is referencing a specific set of stories and themes.

Paris, with the help of Aphrodite, falls for and steals away Helen, who is then compelled to stay with Paris. The Achaens/Greeks gives chase. Noble Troy, who refuse to abandon their own no matter the consequences, refuse to abandon Paris. They pay for their loyalty with a ten year-long siege and the destruction of their city.

Odysseus, after being waylaid by a goddess for nine years, finally gets back home, only to find that that in his absence his home has been taken over. Helped by his son and Athena, the goddess of wisdom, Odysseus finally gets rid of the suitors and gets to have sex with his wife Penelope again. It's an all-day affair. Everyone lives happily ever after.

I've not yet finished the Aeneid, but the Aeneas and Dido come to mind, with Eros forcing Dido to fall in love with Aeneas, the two of them getting married... and then Aeneas being told to leave. 'Cause destiny. 

Did we mention that the Greek gods suck? Do we need to?

So, that's the backdrop. And it gives a lot of  context. Gawain is tested in a matter similar to Paris. Trying to find the Green Chapel Gawain asks for the help of the Virgin Mary... and then immediately finds a castle, with a lord who claims that the Green Chapel is just two miles away! Take a load off! Rest!

Oh, BTWS, Morgan Le Fay is here. This is her castle, pretty much. And the lord is the Green Knight. And he sends his wife to tempt Sir Gawain. Without the backdrop of Homer and Virgil it's a toss-up as to why they're doing this. But with that backdrop? Man, it's obvious. They're trying to find a weakness in Camelot to overthrow it. Morgan Le Fay is attempting to recreate the tragedy of Troy; she's trying to turn Gawain into another Paris, Odysseus, and Aeneas. 

But Sir Gawain is prevented from falling to this trap by the Virgin Mary, explicitly. Rather than having a woman trying to drag him down, Sir Gawain is bolstered by the Blessed Mother, and he is able to pass the test that would have led to the destruction of Camelot.

But even then, divinely aided, Sir Gawain cannot bypass the fear of death. He can only go so far. But would that we all failed as splendidly as Sir Gawain! Would that was the only thing we really had to contend with! The world would be a far better place for it.  The context of Homer and Virgil changes the very meaning of the text.

And now we get to Crescendo. 

One of Crescendo's tenets has been to try and bring the principles from older, pre-modern storytelling into an RPG. Every time I've done a more mythological type game it has benefited me and my players. There's a wholesomeness, a vitality to using the mythological method that I've just not seen before. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight really cemented how much I still have to learn, not to mention how much still needs to be encoded into Crescendo.

One avenue I'm beginning to explore is the role of the GM. One of the things I have in the game already is that the GM sets up a myth that he then builds the culture of his setting into. I'd already intuited that I wanted that done, although I couldn't have told you why at the beginning. I've also always been leery of the idea that the GM is over the other players. I do like the idea of their being a locus point for the story, for someone to be director to the actors/writers that are the other players. But the GM is frequently not a player, but someone who is expected to manage the situation and the game itself.

So what if we recast the the GM into The Archivist, the one who takes the Heroic Player's Beliefs, Traits, and Impulses and contextualizes it? And, by contextualizing it, challenges the the Heroic Player? Like, at that point the Archivist would be the one to interpret the data that is the setting and set that interpretation before the other players. The Archivist does not know everything about the setting, only how to get answers about it. So I suppose at this point I'd be setting up the Archivist to be able to generate histories (and the tomes to find more information in), not to mention sub-mythologies and cultures, very quickly.

Because we're all in a larger story. And the Archivist shouldn't have to just pull things out whole-cloth.

And that's before we get into the question of whether or not there should be a metacurrency for the Archivist.

More as I have it.