teh bunneh

Re: And now, for your daily dose of cute... PolarPandaBear!

Re: I have a dream. (and MAN was it wierd!) I dreamt that I was working on a new sourcebook. It was going to be a Cyberpunk sourcebook for the Hero system. I was working on something similar to netrunning. Except the whole "connect your brain straight to the computer" thing was way too 80s, so I came up with a new concept. A couple of friends in college created a new video game, called RaceNet. It was a simple race game, where you created a souped-up cyber-car and raced around these elaborate tracks. What was unique about the game was that the game was a sort of worm, where when you loaded it on a computer it linked up to whatever networks the computer was attached to, and built the racetrack based on the network configuration. You were essentially racing around your school/company/whatever's network. The game became hugely popular, with college kids hooking it up to their school networks all over the place, and office workers playing it on their office network after hours. But it wasn't long before someone discovered a hack to the game. You could use the game to connect to other networks; networks that were only peripherally connected to your network. People were building these huge, elaborate racetracks by linking up computers all around the world. The game itself didn't care what network it was tunnelling through; it was just programmed to build bigger and better racetracks using any resources available to it. Soon people learned that, by using the game, they could get into otherwise secure computer networks. The game built backdoors everywhere. Supposedly, these backdoors could only be used to play the game, but that didn't stop hackers and crackers from using it to break into just about anywhere they wanted to go. There were limitations on what you could do, but it was still a powerful tool. In the game I was creating, this system was used to make things more interesting for all the gamers around the table, not just the netrunner/hacker character. Although in the light of day I can't recall exactly how it was supposed to do that... I was also creating character sheets for sample characters, who were PCs in a Cyber Hero game that I had run years ago (although I never ran a Cyber Hero game in real life). Dang. Now I want to submit a proposal to BlackWyrm...

Re: And now, for your daily dose of cute... Floppsy! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Re: suggestions for maps, scenery? Here's an inexpensive tip for some 3-d terrain: If you've got a craft store nearby, like Michael's or JoAnn's, you can find model trees for really cheap (like less than a buck apiece). They're all pine trees (for Christmas) but they're the right scale for minis. I just got a big package of 10 different-sized trees on sale for $7 this past weekend. A couple of packages of these and you're set for making an Elven/Haunted/Goblin-infested Forest.

Re: Champions Complete Yes, pretty much. Champions Complete has all the rules you need to play Champions, plus the goodies that you need to run a superhero campaign.

Re: "Neat" Pictures I especially like the little gingerbread Luke hanging from a piece of licorice off the bottom of the AT-AT.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... Bath salts!

Re: "Neat" Pictures More here: http://www.geeksaresexy.net/2012/11/20/art-nouveau-heroines-aint-your-typical-ladies-pics/lili_nouveau_by_kishokahime/

Re: Quote of the Week From My Life. Her: Yello. Me: Jello. Yellow Jello! What would that be, mango-flavored? Her: I think mangos are orange. It would be lemon jello. Me: Lemon Jello? Wasn't he a blues musician from the 30s? Her: I think that was Blind Melon. Me: Can't be. Melons are pink. Her: Cantalopes are orange. Me: ...And we're pretty much back to where we started.

Re: "Neat" Pictures A Canadian artist carves human skulls out of old software manuals... http://kadrey.tumblr.com/post/35373785593/shinyslingback-canadian-artist-who-carves-human

Re: Imaginary Friends Update You are killing me, Mike. I gotta lay this monster out, you know!

Re: Interesting article about Sexism in Geek Communities Because, chicks. Amirite, fellas?

Re: Interesting article about Sexism in Geek Communities Yeah, the impression I'm getting from this thread and from talking to women geeks in real life is, 1. Guys need to police their own behavior, and not act like stalkers or jerks when women want to participate in the geeky hobbies, and 2. When you see someone acting like a jerk to a woman*, you should take them aside and explain to them "That isn't cool, dude." *Actually, that applies to any one, not just women. But women seem to get a lot of the brunt of it right now.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... I've got something she could be in charge of.

Re: Interesting article about Sexism in Geek Communities I was gonna say, Mortimer sounds like he's got a lot of personal issues. He should take some time to work those out, whether through therapy or a men's group or self-study or something. He shouldn't take them out on the girl sitting at the gaming table who just wants to play a little D&D or Call of Cthulhu.

Re: And now, for your daily dose of cute... Tru dat.

Re: Interesting article about Sexism in Geek Communities

Re: And now, for your daily dose of cute... Death from above!!!

Re: "Neat" Pictures Are coopers or sharp-shinned hawks found in the Rocky Mountain west (in my case, the north part of Colorado)?

Re: "Neat" Pictures

Re: "Neat" Pictures There's a hawk lives in our neighborhood that sometimes catches birds and eats 'em in my yard. I've seen him do it at least twice, and I've found piles of feathers a few more times (those might've been from a cat, I admit). Ah, here's a pic of it!

Re: "Neat" Pictures Darcy: Yes, we can see that you're hammered.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... The best part of that battle was that we took out the Ork Krooza's sensor array in the first hit, so the entire fight it was effectively blind. The Ork Kaptin kept trying to perform "extended actions" (like helping put out fires and other damage control), but kept failing his rolls. So we were joking that the Kaptin didn't actually believe that his ship was under attack. Crew-ork: Kaptin, they just shot us and now the entire port-side weapons system is on fire! Kaptin: "They"? Who's "They"? There ain't no "they" out there, you lazy gits! One of you bums just ignored the "No smoking" signs we put up around here, didn't you??? We put those signs up for a reason you know! Crew-ork: Kaptin, they hit us again! We're venting atmosphere into space! Kaptin: I ain't seen no "they" since this whole thing began! Quit messing around and get back to your stations!!! How many times do I have to say it, THERE AIN'T NO THEY!!!

Re: A Thread for Random Musings Why is Frankenstein's monster so frequently depicted as a machine/robot? Is it just because what he's really supposed to be (stitched together and reanimated dead human flesh) just too gruesome?

Re: I have a dream. (and MAN was it wierd!) His name was Miles Mason. He was a big kid, huge, in fact, 7 feet if he was an inch, and built like a tractor. Strong enough to bend metal in his bare hands. And since he was only 16, he was still growing. But that wasn't all of it. Mason couldn't be hurt. Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration. You could hurt him alright. He could be cut, or broken, just like any man. But unlike any other man, he healed up any injury he sustained within minutes, even seconds. Mason (no one called him by his first name) couldn't die. But his mama could. She died in the cold of winter a few years ago, leaving him on his own. A neighbor couple brought him into their home and cared for him as best as they could. He was a good boy, generally speaking, but sullen and withdrawn. Then one day, one of the couple's other children turned up dead, and Scully and I were called in to investigate. The investigation immediately turned to Mason. He wasn't part of the family. He had been having troubles lately -- what teenaged boy doesn't have more than his share? -- and he was developing a mean streak from it. And he was strong enough to kill someone, on purpose or by accident, easily enough. But when we went to question him, Mason was having none of it. He went berserk. I guess at some point he decided that since he couldn't be hurt, and since he was stronger than anybody else, the rules no longer applied to him. He backhanded the woman who had adopted him, sending her to the ground like a crumpled rag doll. Scully ran to see if she could help the woman, and Mason kicked her; she flew through the air like a football. I drew my sidearm and ordered him to stand down, and he charged me. I emptied my revolver into him, six shots from a .45, and he didn't even slow down. It became a game of chase, of hide-and-seek. Scully and I tried everything we could think of to take him down -- shots to the head, the neck, the body, we even tried shooting out his eyes. Nothing stopped him for long. Scully's sidearm, a 9mm, was even more useless than mine; he didn't even hardly feel her shots. At least my gun made him angry. But it was terrifying. He knew the farm well, so anywhere we tried to hide from him, he could root us out. It was only a matter of time before he killed us, too. Then I came on a solution. We couldn't kill him, but maybe we could trap him. But how do you trap someone strong enough to bend metal? They were doing some construction on the farm, pouring concrete for a new foundation. If we could lure him to the site, maybe we could bury him in wet concrete? It was risky, but it was the only way. I was to distract him. As he came at me, I put my gun up under his chin; it would at least slow him down. But before I could pull the trigger, he grabbed the gun and squeezed, turning it into useless metal. I ran for the construction site, hoping that Scully was in place, and hoping that Mason wouldn't see what we were up to. She was there, in the concrete truck, ready to pour as soon as I got Mason into the hole. But Mason was no dummy. He saw what we were up to, and went to the truck. He pulled off the truck's door and grabbed Scully. He started to squeeze, to crush her. I had no way to distract him. He was going to kill my partner. "Hey Miles!" I yelled. He looked at me, anger lighting his eyes. "Nobody calls me that but my mama!" he snarled. "What's that, Miles?" I asked. "Nobody calls you Miles?" He grew enraged, throwing Scully to the ground and charging me. He grabbed me, and both of us tumbled into the pit. Scully, bless her, had enough strength to crawl back into the concrete truck and hit the lever. Thousands of pounds of wet concrete poured over us, burying us. I managed to kick free and climb out of the pit, and the threat of Miles Mason was ended. Did he die in that concrete, suffocated or crushed? I don't know. I don't know if he can die at all. But one question that bothered me. If he can heal any wound almost instantly, what would happen if you cut off a part of him, like one of his hands? He would grow a new hand, obviously... but what would happen to the old hand? Would it grow a new body? The question disturbed me, because we had used a combine to cut him to pieces, and though it diced him up pretty good it hadn't stopped him... The End (?)