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Nekkidcarpenter

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  1. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Christopher R Taylor in Superhero Bases   
    The campaign died soon after but I gave the heroes in my Golden Age game a zeppelin base that could move around the country.  That was meant to be pretty important to the team as a mobile base and transportation to places they needed to be.  Even if it was implausibly fast, as fits the genre.
  2. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter got a reaction from Sketchpad in Superhero Bases   
    To me the basic concept of Hero should be applied to a base; what does it do?  
     
    It provides bonuses to some pc's for some rolls that are requested by the gm.  GM-"It sure would be nice if you had your own lab to analyze that clue"  PC-"I do have my own lab, I've been making my webbing there for years"  GM-"But wouldn't it be nice to spend some of your experience on it?  I mean, what else would you do, buy skill levels?"
     
    It provides some justification for pc's to buy new powers that they didn't need to create their character.  The Iron Man expy didn't need a 'base' to spend the first 300 points on their suit, why do they need one to slightly modify it?
     
    It provides adventure hooks for the gm to hang things on.  Subterranean monsters, ghosts, alien attacks, defense systems going haywire, robot butler's gaining sentience, etc.
     
    It sucks up pc xp when the gm feels he's lost control of the pc's point spending.  This is actually the only thing it does.
     
    In my opinion, a 'base' is just a tax on pc's.  If the campaign justifies it and they want one, let them have it.  If they feel like designing a whole bunch of rooms or whatever, fine.  If having a map makes running encounters there easier, make the pc's make the map.  
     
  3. Thanks
    Nekkidcarpenter got a reaction from Duke Bushido in Superhero Bases   
    To me the basic concept of Hero should be applied to a base; what does it do?  
     
    It provides bonuses to some pc's for some rolls that are requested by the gm.  GM-"It sure would be nice if you had your own lab to analyze that clue"  PC-"I do have my own lab, I've been making my webbing there for years"  GM-"But wouldn't it be nice to spend some of your experience on it?  I mean, what else would you do, buy skill levels?"
     
    It provides some justification for pc's to buy new powers that they didn't need to create their character.  The Iron Man expy didn't need a 'base' to spend the first 300 points on their suit, why do they need one to slightly modify it?
     
    It provides adventure hooks for the gm to hang things on.  Subterranean monsters, ghosts, alien attacks, defense systems going haywire, robot butler's gaining sentience, etc.
     
    It sucks up pc xp when the gm feels he's lost control of the pc's point spending.  This is actually the only thing it does.
     
    In my opinion, a 'base' is just a tax on pc's.  If the campaign justifies it and they want one, let them have it.  If they feel like designing a whole bunch of rooms or whatever, fine.  If having a map makes running encounters there easier, make the pc's make the map.  
     
  4. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Asperion in Superhero Bases   
    For the most part when it comes to bases,  I tend to hand wave it.  Regardless of size and ability,  I will say to the players prove to me why you have said ability at your income level, spending requirements, size,  and other requirements. By size I am not talking physical base size although that's a consideration, I mean the economic size of support. When everything is done and I (GM) says they have it, then we determine how to work it into the actual base itself. 
  5. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Duke Bushido in New martial manuver for escrima   
    I dont want to under think this, but isnt this, per the description in the fist post, more or less a counterstrike of sorts?
     
     
  6. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to unclevlad in 2021-2022 NFL Thread   
    Make that "OC in the NFL" and you're probably closer.  Who doesn't abandon the running game at the drop of a hat?
  7. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Jason S.Walters in Hero Games 2022 Update   
    Fellow Hero System Fans-


    I’d like to take a moment to talk about our plans for Hero Games in 2022. I believe they’re both modest and realistic, in that they can be accomplished on time and using our limited resources. At the same time they are also ambitious, as I intend to release four projects in 2022; one each quarter of the year. They will be the following:


    (Quarter One) HERO2023 Champions Begins Created by a group who wish only to be known as “Hero Fans.” This high-quality free electronic product provides everything you need to play your first game of Champions! It’s designed to teach people new to Champions how to play the game, but isn’t a complete presentation of the rules set; it provides you with just enough to play for the first time. The zip file contains a 52 page GM book, a 20 page Player book, a villain book, hero book, paper figurines, and Hero Designer files.


    (Quarter Two) HERO2017 IHA: Pride & Prejudice Created by Thomas Stadley. To most people the Institute For Human Advancement is best known for its boring spokespeople who appear on talk shows that only their parents watch. But the Earth’s superheroes know better: the IHA is an insidious, genocidal threat to the planet’s mutants – and anyone else who gets in the way of their plans! Packed with agents, villains, weapons, and equipment, IHA: Pride & Prejudice contains everything you need to introduce the IHA into your campaign.


    (Quarter Three) HERO2018 Champions International Created by Steve Long and Jason Walters. There are a variety of imaginary and unusual locations that have been mentioned in Champions Universe books over the years, but have never been fully explored or detailed. Champions International does exactly that, providing an in depth look at locations such as Awad, Lugendu, Larisagrad, and Costa Azul. It also includes some new locations like Transnistria and Prosperidad. Previously released individually in 2021 and 2022, these articles will be further edited and reworked to become chapters in the final version of the book.


    (Quarter Four) HERO2024 The Chimera System Created by Philip J. Guinchard. The Chimera System is a hybrid of the Hero and OpenD6 systems in which elements from both have been combined together by the author to create a unique, new game system. Like the recently published Champions Now, it’s a joint undertaking by ourselves and a creator to publish a variation of the Hero System fans will find interesting and useful.


    Additionally, if things go well with Champions International, Steve and I are considering creating a Patreon account to fund the creation of the HERO System Advanced Player’s Guide III, Champions Martial World, and other projects starting in 2023. But we’ll see how this year goes before we commit to a long-term project like that!


    If you have a manuscript you would like to submit to Hero Games, contact me at jason@herogames.com with a one to three paragraph description of your work. If it sounds like something we would be interested in, you can then send me the full manuscript for review. And, of course, feel free to post any comments or questions on this thread.
     
    - Jason Walters, Publisher
     
  8. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Zarthose in does not cross intervening space, how to reach through walls   
    I see I missunderstood the meaning of this advantage....does this mean i still need indirect to reach through walls? If so, what level?
     
  9. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Derek Hiemforth in does not cross intervening space, how to reach through walls   
    Yes, if you want to bypass obstacles entirely (e.g., reach through walls), then you need the Indirect Advantage. I can't really tell you what level you need; it depends on the SFX of the power and what you envision being able to do with it. I recommend working it out with your GM, or starting a thread in the HERO System Discussion forum if you want to discuss possible builds.
     
    However, for the martial artist punching in the back of the head that you described in your earlier post, if you wanted them to be able to reach through a wall or similar barrier while doing that, you would need at least, "Source point is not the character, but is always the same (+¼)," and, "Path of Power is not directly from Source Point to target, but is always the same (+¼)," for a total Indirect value of at least +½. 
     
    Note that even though Stretching has some indirect aspects to it, those do not lessen the cost of Indirect (6E1 p. 286). The level of Indirect you need is still based on what you want the source of the power to be, and what path you want the power to take, without factoring in Stretching.
     
    On a personal note, I have a PC whose SFX are based around teleportation and portals and "reaching through the void," and she can do things just like you're describing.  She can create a portal and have her arm appear anywhere within her Stretching reach, and oriented so the strike can come from any direction. Her build uses Stretching, Doesn't Cross Intervening Space (+¼), Fully Indirect (+1). 
  10. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Stirling.N in New Polaris 5e w/Variant (STR Bug Fixed)   
    Some Templates - alpha version.
     
    More soon...
     
    Brick Blaster.hdc Martial Artist.hdc Mind Scan Mentalist.hdc Fast Brick.hdc Soft Brick.hdc Hard Brick.hdc Standard EP.hdc Heavy EP.hdc Brick.hdc
  11. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to megaplayboy in The imminent passing of George Perez (and my stepdad)   
    I lost my father last month.  He was 87.  
     
    My deepest sympathies, Enforcer.  
     
    By the way, if George Perez had only drawn this one cover, he'd still be an all time great:

  12. Sad
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Enforcer84 in The imminent passing of George Perez (and my stepdad)   
    George Perez has posted that his cancer has reached critical mass
     

     
    This really hit me hard because I'm going through the end of this story right now. 
     
    I'm watching my step-father go through the same. He suffered a few minor strokes a few weeks ago. He's been dealing with prostate cancer for a decade and the last round of radiation treatments did f' all and so the plan was to comfort him and start hospice when it looked like it was time. We (the kids) all gathered for Thanksgiving this year, and dad, unable to talk well was vibrant and laughing taking part in the telling of tales where he could and miming when he couldn't find the words. He seemed to be getting better...at least his speech.
     
    A week later he's had another stroke and is now confined to a wheelchair and the planned party for his 85th birthday on the 11th might not happen. 
     
    I'm sad.  Sorry to show up only to  whine. 
  13. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Duke Bushido in It's... Non-Gaming, and that's all I can really say in one line   
    It's not a random musing, so it doesn't go there.  Despite the timing, it's not holiday anything, so it doesn't go there.  It _is_ from my life, but it's not particularly quotable and far, far too long (though the reminiscing did bring up and old quote, and if I can remember it again, I will post it as well).
     
    This is the story of lost productivity.  This is the story of bizarre inter-human relations.  This is the story of high emotions, high pressure, and low empathy.  Or, if you must have a clean and concise reference, it is the story of the worst funeral I have ever attended.
     
    I don't feel particularly light and fluffy tonight, so you're in for a treat: I am going to leave out _so much_ excess verbiage, you luck you, you!  I am not going to go into a lot of detail about the deceased; suffice it to say that he was a very important part of that best part of family: that family that you select for yourself when you first step out into the world on your own.  As these are all real people (who I hope to God will be horrifically ashamed of themselves once they get home), I am going to be using pseudonyms.  I trust that you will eventually see why I fell this is for the best.
     
    Early Monday, I got a call from my brother J (I have two of these, and since I _did_ say "my brother," there's no point in trying real hard here).  "We lost Patrick late last night."  Patrick has been fighting cancer-- badly.  He also had quadruple bypass last month.  He has lived the last nine months with one of my sisters (the single one) who has helped to care for him.  "Funeral is Thursday, ten-o'clock, at The Usual Place."   I say "The Usual Place" because this particular funeral home has seen a depressing amount of our family go on to their reward, starting with my brother Mike (he's dead; we are not going to hurt his feelings, okay?), then Pop, then a few others.  I tell J that I _will_ be there.
     
    I told my boss that I needed to travel to Coastal Town for a funeral, etc, and he is genuinely sorry to tell me "we have a number of deadlines to hit by Thursday night."  Well, boss, it's Thursday until midnight.  I will be back after the funeral; the deadlines will be met.  "Are you comfortable with that?"  Well, I'm _going_, so it doesn't really matter.
     
    I get down there about an hour early, just in time to see Mama (pseudonym, selected for her importance to all of us) and Sister M (the one that 'Patrick' was staying with) arrive, and I help Mama out of the car.  Immediately she falls to hugs and crying and kissing.  She's a wreck.  Patrick was her last tie to Pop, and she knows her own health.  I help her get seated in a good spot to greet other people as they enter.  J and wife show up (my own wife was not able to get time off, and truth be told, in spite of knowing how much I love these people, has never been particularly comfortable with them.  You...  you'd have to know them.  The best way I know to sum them up is ex-LEOs and biker trash, thrown together in the most unusual way possible.  I don't really know how we all ended up like we are, but we are all good with each other.
     
    I also notice that my brother Thumper isn't there, and I ask about it.  See, Thumper's father (Pop) and Patrick were so close that Thumper was actually named after Patrick.  Now I wrote Thumper off years ago (if you've never had to cut a close family member out of your life, let me tell you it's a lot harder than you think) as a con man and grifter (and he still is a piece of crap, but that's not this story).  J tells me "I told him about it and he just got mad.  Said "Isn't that just like Patrick?  He probably planned this crap on purpose!"  Today, you see, is Thumper's birthday.  So to "get even," he decided not to show up.
     
    The viewing is way, _way_ longer than it was supposed to be.  One of Patrick's families hasn't arrived yet.  Patrick had three families outside of ours.  He wasn't a bigamist; he was what I refer to as a "serial monogamist."  Got married, started a family, ten to twelve years later, rinse and repeat.  There is no way to say this except to say that Patrick was a warm, kind, loving, spontaneous person.  None of that, however, makes him a _good_ person.  I hope that point comes across, because I have no better way to express it.  I visit with several friends, family members, and adopted family members, some of whom I haven't seen in some time-- Pretty, for example.  We used to go everywhere together, but he took a job up in Carolina twenty years ago and now we only see each other for the _worst_ of reasons.  Ahh-- to explain how complicated the family relationships are in this group: J is my brother.  Pretty is J's brother.  Pretty is not my brother.  He might as well be, but on paper.....
     
    Now Patrick....  Patrick seemed to take a new wife every time he went through a new Phase.  This is reinforced by the fact that I swear to you: he has _theme families_.  You'd have to see them lined up by group to appreciate it, but let's say that his _first_ wife and set of kids are all the ambitious go-getter prep-school type of kids that everyone thinks they want.  His next wife and set of kids are all bikers.  All of them.  his daughter (who is six-two and was strikingly attractive before all the face tats) has been arrested twice (with a group of other bikers) for absolute brawls.   His next set of kids are shifty, "we could sell used cars and use them to traffic the coke" type people.  His last set of kids (he never married the last woman) are two very normal, well-rounded people who would get lost in a crowd of three.
     
    Patrick also had a few extra-marital relationships.  Like, _always_ had a few extra-marital relationships.   To the point that while there is a slide show running of his life with pictures of him from childhood up, and with all of us, and all of his various wives and all of his kids, there were over thirty pictures that everyone was trying to figure out just who this or that woman was.  J helped with some; I helped with others.  The one with which most people were enamored-- a tall and energetic-looking blond woman, grinning into the camera while hugging his neck-- J and I looked at each other for a minute.  Finally I spoke.  "Pop's gone.  Pat's gone.  You gonna wait for me to go, too, or do we tell them?"  (There is a tradition in our family that anyone who agrees to take a secret "to the grave," well, it's either / or.  Your grave, or the other guys.  (this comes up again later in another context).  We are okay with keeping secrets for decades, but forever isn't allowed.    J thinks about it a minute, and finally says "Who, but not when."  
     
    "Okay," I agreed.  I turned to Mama and said "That's a stripper Patrick picked up on one of our trips to Bike Week.  Took three days to get rid of her."  To give you an idea of the sort of person Patrick was, absolutely no one was surprised.  Some were disappointed, but none were surprised.
     
    Finally, the missing family show up: we can hear their bikes pulling up.  They had been delayed by mechanical issues.  They come walking in and Pat's daughter (we'll call her Sylvie, because it amuses me) struts in dragging her boyfriend-of-the-moment by the hand.  She stops and looks at J, sizing him up and down. "You got fat." she sneered.  He looked back at her. "Still wanna [] me?"  boyfriend bows up and starts to say something-- now let's keep in mind that I'm not a little guy, and I have no doubt that I could handle this guy.  J is twice my size, and unhampered by spine issues.  Boyfriend starts to get in J's face and Sister M steps up from out of nowhere, grabs him by the back of his tacky little leather vest and _drags_ him to her (I've told all of you that even my sisters are bigger than me, right?), throws her knee behind his while dragging, all of which neatly drops him on his back-- or, would have, if she had let go of his vest, which is now cradling his head and bunching in his armpits, effectively making his arms useless.  "Now you listen to me, you little []!  This isn't about Sylvie and it isn't about J and it sure as Hell isn't about whoever the Hell _you_ are.  If Sylvie wants J's [] kicked, she'll do it herself; do you understand me?  This is about Patrick-- her daddy-- and mostly it's about Mama, because with Patrick gone, there's only her and S (Pop's last living cousin) from their entire generation.  J and Sylvie have a history that is none of your business, none of my business, and if you can't handle that like a man, I'll get Pretty to take you out back and explain it."  
     
    As if on cue, Pretty walks up.  Now let me say this:  I have told you that I am the smallest of my siblings.  Pretty, technically not my sibling, is almost a head shorter than my six-foot-and-a-touch self.  However, he is easily twice as wide.  He's not fat; he's just huge.  He was always short and got picked on a lot as a kid.  He got into body building at about the age of ten.  Today, he walks through doors one shoulder at a time.  He's an extremely warm, outgoing man, and quite forgiving, but you'd have to know that; nothing about the way he looks suggests he isn't possibly a serial killer-- a very _happy_ serial killer (he smiles all the time, even when absolutely furious.  It's unsettling if you don't know him, I have been told).  Boyfriend gets the message, Sister M stands him back up, J winks at him and blows a kiss to him.  Sylvie starts in on Boyfriend:  "What the Hell is wrong with you?  You either hit someone or you don't; that stupid posing [] will get your [] kicked by every person in this room!"  Boyfriend starts sputtering about J's comment and Sylvie shuts him down with "Sometimes a woman wants a guy she can't beat the [] out of.  I swear to God, if I had known you were going to be this damned annoying, I would have invited Husband...."
     
    (Oh, for anyone who is curious, Sylvie and J's only "history" is a lifetime of joke flirting.  Neither is interested in dating a cousin.     )
     
    At any rate, this exchange gives the tone for the entire funeral.
     
    I promised I'd leave out a lot of verbosity, so let's skip straight to the first fist fight--
     
    No; let's not.  Let's first skip to the first speaker.
     
    Patrick was _not_ a religious man.  I can't go so far as to say he was an atheist, because I don't know that he ever made his mind up-- to be completely fair to him, I think he quite deliberately avoiding thinking about it his entire life.  It worked out better for him, I suppose: he was able to shout out how evil gay marriage was without having to worry about the sanctity of his three marriages, his long-term live-together, or any of who knows how many extramarital dalliances, strippers, and prostitutes.  (Remember: I said a _warm_ and _personable_ man; I specifically said "not a good man."  There are a lot of reasons for that.)  Now the first person to speak (Patrick knew the end was coming about a month ago and started making arrangements.  He had asked two friends from long ago to say "a few nice things" at the funeral) was an old friend of his from his LEO days.  This speaker was also a lay preacher.  Those may exist outside the south, but I've never encountered them anywhere else.  At any rate, he mentioned Patrick a couple of times, and kept hounding on Salvation and Repentance and how Patrick had repented to him and accepted Jesus-- 
     
    In the south, preachers are _terrible_ about this.  Every funeral I have been to with a preacher ends up being an hour-long membership drive for the church.  Almost no thought seems to be given to the deceased or comforting the grieving.  I hate it.  I _am_ religious, and I _hate_ it.  That's how absolutely abhorrent I find this practice to be.  Now he had been going on for about forty-five minutes (bringing this funeral deeply into its third hour, what with Sylvie and her two brothers and boyfriend-dujour being late.  I have ridden bikes all my life.  I have ridden with friends and I have ridden alongside outlaw clubs (never joined, but hanger-on'ed a couple out of friendship for one or more members), and hate me if you must, but the best advice I can give to anyone thinking about buying a motorcycle is "don't by a Harley."  You aren't buying a motorcycle; you are buying a lifestyle and an over-priced underpowered irrigation pump that someone has wedged into a small motorcycle frame and marketed entirely on nostalgia for a time that never was.  There is a reason most of them are ridden only to the bars, then to the dealership and back).
     
    Now, I didn't ride to the funeral.  I was trying to be respectful, and in the event anyone else needed a ride or some such, I had taken the Leviathan.  It's not pretty, but it's sedate.
     
    Anyway, most of us from the family were getting very, very ill with this speaker-- not for the run-on, but for the words he was putting into Patrick's mouth that we all knew were absolutely not true: Hell, Sister M helped Patrick make the phone call to this guy.  At about the forty-five minute mark, he reiterates "Patrick confessed to me that he believed Jesus Christ died on the cross for his sins--"  someone a few rows behind me (I had chose to sit with Mama so I could help her up and down as needed.  While I love J and all the others, I am really [] about the way they have distanced themselves from her over the Thumper situation.  You know what?  Thumper is her son, and she loves him.  I never expected her to write him off the way the rest of us did, and it bugs me that they did.  But hey-- I am the oldest.  I'm the extra parent, and didn't get the luxury of being childish growing up, which makes it harder to fall into now, I guess)-- anyway, "Patrick told me he accepted Salvation, and confessed it by mouth-"
     
    "You are a _LYING_ sum' [], and I think we've all had about enough of it!"  Cue the agreement, then the dissent, then the arguing, and suddenly BOOM!  A freakin' brawl at a funeral.  I don't mean a fist fight.  I mean a _brawl_.  One second there's yelling and arguing and the next second there's fists and coats and folding chairs flying everywhere.
     
    So how did this happen?
     
    I don't know.  Really; I don't.  Mama and I sat in the third pew, leaving the first two for Patrick's surviving exes and his dozen kids and their kids (damn, I'm old).  I turned to see who was doing all the yelling, stood to ask them to shut up, and then it all just blew up.
     
     
    Okay, I don't share much about my family-- biological, adopted, or otherwise-- not because I don't want people to know, but because I don't like putting their business out to strangers without their permission.  It doesn't feel right to me (hence all the pseudonyms on the rare occasion I do it, and excepting Thumper, who is a complete []-biter anyway.  But I hope at this point that you have an idea of just what an odd and eclectic bunch we are-- Pat's "theme families" are right typical for us; we just don't usually striate quite so cleanly.    ) I have a theory, and J approached me with a similar theory (from the opposite POV, unsurprisingly enough, but hey--.  Without getting political here, let me sum up the things J, D, and I agreed on:  This group splits quite evenly between retired and active LEOs and people who moved away, leaving the LEOs and their lifestyle behind to explore the rest of the world.  In that time, they formed opinions that maybe what LEOs are doing or how they are doing it isn't really the best way to be doing such things.  I am not here to say that one group is right and one isn't, but it's a hotbed issue in the country right now, and in our family (for obvious reasons), and this is a funeral for a guy that, even knowing who and how he was, we all genuinely loved, and there is a _lot_ of emotional tension, a lot of sadness, a feeling of loss, pain, anger, and loss of control.  Someone said something that someone didn't like-- or maybe someone took something the wrong way-- at any rate, the only sickening thing I can say for certain was that it was LEOs that started swinging first, clearly an attempt to deescalate the situation. 
     
    Thankfully, it wasn't the entire family.  It was about eight-on-eight, and it was _ugly_.  There was a lot of repression that had slipped loose, I think, on everyone's part.  J, D, Sister M, myself, and a handful of others moved in to break it up, and from the initial outburst to getting everything quite (including a lot of seat-switching that folks undertook of their own volition).  We were now twenty minutes deeper into things.  The speaker waited a bit and continued on, starting right back on Patrick's deathbed Salvation and Pretty jumped up, walked briskly around the casket and around the podium, took him by the hand and said "thank you for coming; and thank you for speaking about Uncle Patrick, but I think we need to let Nickel speak now" and led him carefully down the aisle and out through the lobby.
     
    There is a rhythm to the services at The Usual Place.  I absolutely hate that I have been there enough to notice that.    When the viewing is about to turn into the service, they start playing music-- very, _very_ softly, and across ten minutes or so, they creep the volume up until everyone notices and settles in for the service.  There are always at least two speakers-- at most services, one would be the deceased preacher, but in this case--  anyway, after the first speaker, they play a song-- again, softly, presumably to allow the speaker to make his way through the bereaved or for the bereaved to ruminate on his words.  After that song, a second speaker steps up, and when he is done, they play another song.  After that, any additional speakers, and then anyone amongst the assembled who wish to speak do so, in turn.  When all this has concluded, a third song plays.  When that song ends, the ushers move to the front and begin leading people out to the foyer.  That's important to know-- again, for later. 
     
    The second speaker-- Nickel-- is a lifelong friend from Patrick's earliest days of his LEO career.  He shares a few amusing anecdotes, details some of the things he remembers about Patrick, shares some things that, were he alive, Patrick may not have wanted shared.  Oh well: family tradition: no one is allowed to keep a secret forever.     After about twenty minutes of that (_long_ minutes, because the pew-- and Mama's constant need for physical contact as a reassurance-- are taking their toll on my back), he segues directly into the current political climate, how Patrick would have seen things, how things _ought_ to be, yadda-yadda-yadda- "surprise, I'm a Nazi!" and the next round of []-kickings begin, this time when a lot of Patrick's own kids cry "bull" and others of us with more 'questionable' lifestyles begin to pontificate that not only did Patrick not think like that, but the very fact that these were his kids and his family and his closest friends absolutely belies everything that _this_ butt muppet is trying to put into his mouth.  Sure, when you knew him in '84, he may have thought like that, but look at his family-- look at his life.  He grew; he changed; you are putting words in his mouth--   this one quickly heated up, and as absolutely stunned as I was by the idea of a brawl at a funeral, I was absolutely gobsmacked when it happened _again_.
     
    Seriously.  Another all-out brawl at a funeral.  This one I saw up close and personal: close family was involved.  And while I DO NOT WANT ANYONE to think this is a political statement (I am trying _super hard_ to not do that, particularly after all this), it bears noting that yet again, it was LEOs that started swinging first.  I was starting to think that this was the only way they knew to deal with someone who disagreed with them.  😢  Now remember: we _ARE_ a tight-knit group; I would unabashedly accept the descriptor "clannish."  We have genuine love for each other, and here we are (well, not all of us, of course) beating the crap out of each other again.  The first one was roughly eight-on-eight; this one was roughly twelve-on-twelve, but unfortunately even Pretty got triggered (he's still an active LEO), but at least he didn't start beating on people.  He _did_ grab and hold a couple of them much more aggressively than I really think was necessary, but honestly, I probably was, too-- not for political reasons, but for "what the Hell is wrong with you?!" reasons.  I got my shirt ripped off me for my troubles (trying to break it up; not actively participating), and at the end of this one-- well, this one was bad: people can summon absolute hate even for people they love over the particular hot button topic that Nickel the Douche Biscuit decided to pontificate about.  J caught a shiner from someone for his troubles, and Sister M was pulling the fingers on a guy I didn't recognize in what looked like an attempt to pull them back into joint.  Sylvie was laughing.  Apparently during the fracas (she participated in this one, I am ashamed to say), this guy had grabbed her backside, and she had dislocated at least one of his fingers for his trouble.  Mama scolded  her about it, and her only reply was "I stabbed the last guy."  "Yeah;" D replied.  "We know.  I bailed you, if you recall."
     
    So everything is settled down again.  J has someone's blood on his shirt; my shirt is torn at the shoulder and doesn't have enough buttons left to close, and I gave up trying.  D looks pretty clean still, and Pretty is taking off his tie "because if this [] happens again, I'm going to start choking them."  Pretty sure he didn't mean that, and the look of the tie at that point suggests someone had grabbed it in an attempt to choke him.
     
     
    This whole thing is beyond surreal; even Mama seems to have just checked out.  Out of respect, I had left my phone in the truck, and looked at my watch to realize that I had lost it at some point trying to help break up the last skirmish.  It feels like we are four or more hours into this thing at this point.  J notices me looking at my wrist, glances at his wife's watch, and tells me "one-thirty."   Wonderful.  For a funeral that started at 10, and me with a day's work still to do, two hours from where I am now.  Nickel the Pundit gets back up to the podium, and _several_ of Patrick's kids tell him in no uncertain terms "No; you're done."  He cajoles with something along the lines of "well I just wanted to say--" J, Pretty, and half of Patrick's sons step forward-- they don't do anything more than that; they just step forward.  One of Patrick's exes repeats "No; you're done."  The ushers start playing a soft song, giving a hint.
     
    At this point, -- I don't know what you call them.  Kenny had done a stint in the Army before becoming a cop.  There were three young people there to do the fold-a-flag-and-give-it-to-the-bereaved thing (no disrespect intended; I have no idea what that's called or what those people are called.  I know one of them plays Taps, and when you're barely holding it together, that does _not_ help.  Dear God, does that not help.  We all lost it at that point, and even then I thought "maybe this is what they need-- just a better way to let it out."   
     
    The flag gets folded, the young man walks toward the first pew and presents it to Patrick's oldest son.
     
     
    Which immediately results in a fight.  Thankfully, not another brawl.  Patrick had four families, remember?  He has two surviving exes and a dozen kids.  There was screaming and yelling and name calling and a bit of slapping (remember when I said his first kids were prep-school kind of kids?  There have been two full-on rows at this point, and these kids-- including the oldest boy-- are slapping at each other.  Still, it's _so much better_ than everything thus far).  Eventually, it's decided to open the casket and give it to Patrick.
     
    At this point, _everyone_ is aghast.  Not because Patrick is, for some reason, purple, but because whoever had prepped the body had shaved his mustache!  You obviously don't know Patrick, but Patrick was _extremely_ proud of his "cop 'stache."  Like Mama, Patrick had three Seminole grandparents.  Without exaggeration, it took him nearly ten years to grow his beloved 'stache.  He would have been mortified.  Now during the viewing, the family had agreed to a closed casket because-- well, because he was PURPLE!, and as a result latecomers (to include Sylvie, Boyfriend, and Sylvie's brother) had been unaware that the 'stache was gone, as were most of the friends who had waited to let the family have a private viewing.  This started an uproar about who was responsible for this or that or who did this horrible thing and on and on, finger-pointing and blaming, etc.  At least they weren't fighting physically; _that crap_ was getting _old_.
     
    If anyone is wondering, it was the decision of his first wife and his first daughter.  They had never gotten used to seeing him with it.  Me?  I honest-to-God DID NOT CARE!  Why?  Because I was one-hundred-precent _convinced_ that Patrick didn't care, either!  If he _did_ care, he was hiding it extremely well.
     
    There was a third speaker; someone who worked with both Patrick and Pop, and he spoke quite fondly of both of them, shared a few stories, offered condolences to the family.  Unlike the previous speakers, he seemed to have a genuine desire to speak about Patrick, and to comfort those who would miss him most.   Most importantly at this point?  He was BRIEF!  Oh, thank you, merciful universe!  He thoughtfully opened the floor for anyone else who wanted to speak, and a few people did.  We heard another twenty minutes or so of fond remembrances, offers of assistance and comfort-- things you would expect at a funeral.  (Unless you live in the South, in which case you also expect a twenty-to-forty minute sermon on why you should be seeking Salvation, even if you're there to bury an atheist.)  A few family members spoke, shared memories, and _finally_ everyone was done.
     
    The Ushers had silently slipped into their positions at the front corners of the room, well behind the casket and the podium, and the speaker popped and hissed, alerting us "regulars" that the third and final song was about to start, after which we would be "ushed" out to the foyer.
     
    As my spine began to leap for joy at the prospect of getting out of that pew and staying out, the music began proper.  My eyes bugged out as I heard the first bars of Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Freebird."  As my spine screamed, there was a clatter.  A guy on the other side of room-- and older man; perhaps mid-seventies, had thrown his cane is disgust, and whacked it quite solidly into the casket. "[] Damn it, Patrick!" he yelled with great ire.  This, of course-- not the yelling or disgust, I don't think-- Patrick was one-hundred-percent known as a practical joker, and we were _all_ convinced that this choice of music had been his entirely (though I bet he would have thought better had he any clue about how the rest of his funeral was going to go), but because he had thrown his cane at the casket of a dead man.  This started another round of screaming and yelling and name calling that ran on for ten minutes.  Unfortunately, that meant that once it had stopped, we still had six minutes of Freebird  to sit through.
     
    And that's us, people.  That's the other side of my family.   And there are now fourteen of us-- perhaps the first humans in American history-- to be banned from a funeral home.
     

     
     
    And that, my friends, is me venting.  Yes; it's the story of the worst funeral ever.  It's the story of the one funeral I will _never_, _ever_ forget, no matter _how many_ COVID tests I take.  It's mostly just me venting.  Remember that after all this crap, I still had to make a two-hour drive to work (I didn't bother going home to change: the shirt was a lost cause, and there are a few blood splatters on the pants I hadn't noticed until they were pointed out to me.  "Oh my Gosh!  What happened to you?!" asked the young lady that serves as our receptionist / salesperson.  "Funeral," I said, like that explained _anything_.
     
    And here I sit, at work still, typing this up while waiting for a few e-mail responses, just so I can e-mail it to myself and copy / post it to the board the moment I get home.
     
    EDIT:
     
    I mentioned that the "secrets" thing would come up again, but I failed to follow through on that.  A few years ago, J invited Patrick to live with him until he found a place he wanted (Patrick had just moved back to the area).  During this time, J had weekend custody of his daughter, and Patrick was always careful to stay out the whole weekend so J could enjoy his daughter without concern for Patrick's needs.  The roommate arrangement fell apart over a shower door.  Pat was getting ready to take a shower, but when he opened the door, it fell into the tub, landing on a corner which punctured the fiberglass tub and shattered the glass of the window.  J insisted Patrick pay for it; Patrick remained steadfast that he did not break the door: he had simply tried to slide the door open, and it fell.  The argument grew heated, and Patrick moved in with one of his exes for a month or two until he found a place to buy.
     
    During the last bit of the service, J's daughter got up and shared a few stories about Patrick-- most of them none of us ever knew.  She concluded with "and now that he's gone, I have to tell you this:  I broke the shower door.  I opened it to get out of the shower and I slipped, but I was holding the door handle, and it popped off the tracks and fell into the tub.  It scared me really bad, and Uncle Patrick (not her uncle, but most of the kids of her generation knew him as 'Uncle') was banging on the door asking if I was okay.  I was okay, and I got dressed, and I was crying, and I told him what happened, and that I broke the door, and he noticed my arm was bleeding.  He cleaned up the blood and put a band-aid on it, and told me that I didn't break the door, and I told him all over again what happened and he said 'listen to me: you did _not_ break the door, okay?  Your Daddy just got his life straightened up to get to see you every weekend, and we're not going to have him mad at you for the last time he gets to see you this week.  _I_ broke the door.  That's that."
     
     
    J blushed.  I suppose he was thinking about the two-week argument about the shower door.     Patrick never said a thing, and that was twenty years ago.
     
  14. Haha
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Bazza in It's... Non-Gaming, and that's all I can really say in one line   
    We have The Longest Running Thread or The Last Word as options for non-musings or posts that don’t fit other threads. 
  15. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Greywind in Perception and Reaction as separated stats   
    You can buy up Perception without increasing INT already.
  16. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Duke Bushido in Body for everything   
    You should hire a dog walker.... 
     
    These sorts od things seem,to occurr to you regularly when the dog is leading you about the neighborhood.
     
  17. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Sean Waters in Body for everything   
    So, right, I was walking the dogs and thought, “why do we do characteristic rolls for Strength differently to all the other characteristic rolls?"
     
    Do go check, but instead of 9+CHAR/5 it is roll STR/5 as damage and count Body.  I like that.  Very Hero.
     
    So, that got me thinking, why don’t we do that for everything?  Stealth check?  DEX/5 + skill levels rolled as damage dice and count Body against a difficulty determined by the GM or the characteristics of an opponent
     
    Example: Dexterity 15 character with +1 in Stealth rolls 4d6 and counts Body to sneak past the 10 Intelligence guard.  Use INT/5 (2) as the difficulty – should be easy in normal circumstances.
     
    Then I went mad and thought, “Why not combat too?”
     
    OCV 3 attack against DCV 4?  Roll 3d6 and count Body aiming for a result of 4 or more (so you’ll need at least one ‘6’).
     
    This has the advantage of having a single ‘Hero’ mechanic that is unique (as far as I know) for everything.  There's more (good and bad), but I thought we'd go one step at a time...
     
    Thoughts?
  18. Thanks
    Nekkidcarpenter got a reaction from Duke Bushido in The Non-Martial Art   
    This is a fantastic story I missed from back then.  I was searching the boards for examples of great Presence Attacks, and this popped up.
  19. Haha
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Duke Bushido in The Non-Martial Art   
    Had numerous phone calls today (we didn't go anywhere, and all my friends and family out of town were made well aware eight weeks ago that traveling in from somewhere and coming up to my door was a great way to get hit with a brick and sent packing: my wife and daughter are both high-risk (asthma), and my age and heart problems aren't helping me too much these days, particularly with the drop in fitness by eight months of "go nowhere; do nothing." 
     
    Anyway, during the phone calls from old friends, many memories and much celebration came out, including a bit of "group lingo" referring to things from games gone past.  One of those terms led me to this:
     
     
    Martial Sneer:  3 pts --------+1/+2-----------Must Follow Presence Attack; Target falls.
     
    I didn't really want to add the OCV, but there's a minimum cost of 3, so why not?   Turn an entire team of opponents into Fainting Goats.   
     
     
    The term goes way back to a game just about the time 3e was being distributed: Jim had picked up both the boxed set and the perfect bound single-volume printings  (he was like that).  I hadn't picked them up yet (and, it turns out, wouldn't for roughy thirty years).  Anyway, we had a new guy who was what we used to call a Some Timer (not to be confused with a part timer, who was someone who, while not always available, could be counted on to show up when he said he would).  I honestly don't recall his name, but something in the back of my mind says it was Keith, and since it doesn't matter, that's what we're going to call him. 
     
    Keith was excited for the game, for the social activity, and for the hoots and hollers of well-played sessions, but Keith was suffered from a chronic crippling shyness that we had spent several sessions working on (mostly me yelling at everyone else before Keith arrived, telling them "Look; he's got comfort problems being around us; we're relative strangers.  Whatever he does, you _love_ it, period.  Talk to him in character, out of character, whatever it takes."-- that sort of thing.
     
    Because of his shyness, Keith wasn't really good at the descriptive part of the game, or the interactive part of the game, but he really did try, at least as best he was able.  The bad guy is before the team, Keith's Batman Clone is in the rafters, observing closely while the team moves in.  The boss smiles, laughs, and haughtily announces "you people have the worst timing.  Any other night, I wouldn't have been here, and you would have lived...."  looks back at his business and jerks an extended index finger toward the group, a signal that sends a dozen armed minions out of the shadows toward the team.
     
    Keith:  Okay, uhm...  I wanna- can I jump down?  I wanna jump down.
     
    Sure.  It's only eighteen feet or so, and you've got Superleap (2e, remember?), so sure; you won't have any problem with that.
     
    Okay, I jump down-- ooh!  Can I jump like on one of the bad guys?
     
    You can, but remember two things: you can totally kill a guy like that if you break his neck, or paralyze him if you damage his spine.  If you still want to try, I will let you, of course, but remember you're one of the good guys.  Also remember that such a move would technically be a move-through, and you'll take half the damage.
     
    Okay....  uhm....   Can I....  Can I jump down, like right in front of one of the guys?
     
    Sure.
     
    Okay, I hit him!
     
    You can't.  You're still in the rafters.
     
    Wha--  oh, yeah, okay.  I jump down in front of a guy and hit him.  Like, really hard.
     
    Which guy? I nod toward the impromptu map.
     
    Okay, the so the big red round dice there...  that's the boss, right?
     
    RIght.
     
    And this pencil eraser here, that's a bad guy?
     
    No; that's a pencil eraser.  Sorry about that.  Brent, pick that up and keep it out of the map!
     
    Okay, these two dice on top of each other...?
     
    That's a bad guy.  He's standing in front of the boss as a sort of ersatz bodyguard until the team is taken care of.  He's not likely to move from that position unless things go really, really badly for his guys.
     
    Okay, that's the guy I want to drop in front of, and as soon as I land, I want to ...   I guess just hit him?
     
    Sure.  How?  You've got weapons and your punches and kicks.  Which are you going to use?
     
    The club thing-- the baton.  Wait!  Does he look tough?
     
    He looks big and tough, and just like the other guys, he seems to be wearing a motorcycle helmet of some sort with a flaming eyeball painted along the crest of it.
     
    Okay, I...  I _jump_!  I jump down and I hit this guy, like with the stick, as hard as I can!
     
    We roll, the body guard goes down even before he registers what happened.  The boss looks up, shocked by the instant appearance of a hero right in front of him and the crumpling of his henchman.
     
    Okay, Keith; you have the higher SPD and the boss is clearly shocked.  What do you do?
     
    Okay, I get my club--
     
    Someone butted in with "Presence Attack, Keith!  Perfect opportunity for a presence attack!"
     
    Okay, yeah-- I do one of those!  Wait-- that's when you scare them, right?  And I can get extra dice if he's already scared, right?
     
    Yep.  You've got the appeared-from-nowhere thing going on, the extremely violent action going on, and you dispatched his most capable henchman as if he were a mannequin.  [I tossed him four extra dice].  Add those; you've got eight dice now.  What sort of Presence Attack are you making?
     
    ??
     
    What do you do? What do you say?
     
    Oh, I uh..    Okay, I stand there looking cool; I don't even check the guy I just knocked out to be sure.  I turn my head and ....   I look at the boss.
     
    You look at him?
     
    Yeah. Like _hard_, you know?  I look at him like, really _hard_.
     
     
    "Ah, yes!"  Chimes in Jeff, who, while an extremely amusing dry-witted type, had a really hard time remembering the "don't shake his confidence" sessions.  "Nothing more intimidating than a good sneer, really.  It's all the rage in gunfights nowadays...."
     
    We all pointedly ignore it; Keith rolls his dice.  easily _half_ of them were sixes.  There was one three and one four.  No ones; no twos.
     
    Jeff's eyes bugged for a moment.  "Oh; my bad!  I didn't realize you were using your Martial Sneer......
     
    Anyway, Keith managed to get the boss shook up long enough to wrangle him with bolos and cuff him.
     
    It was a hilarious moment for all of us, but a great one for Keith.  It also brought "Martial Sneer" into our lexicon.   
     
     
     
     
  20. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Comic in How many Dragon's teeth adorn YOUR shield?   
    Re: How many Dragon's teeth adorn YOUR shield?
     
    Never stat your dragons.
     
    If you stat them, someone will come up with a way of beating them.
     
    And do you really want dragons that can be beaten?
     
    Oh.. Er.. You said you did. Sort of. I guess.
     
    Uhm. Just take Dr. Destroyer, add a tail and scales, and you're pretty much done?
  21. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to assault in What point total for an FH game?   
    I want elves to die in fire, actually. I'd only include them to placate whiny players, and they wouldn't get anything humans don't.
  22. Sad
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Ninja-Bear in What point total for an FH game?   
    How long do you see it going on?
    How about elves are the only ones to know magic?
  23. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Opal in High Powered Hero Campaign   
    I mean, that's an amusing example because 12 BOD 36 STUN is a 3x stun multiplier, and the defenses are 10r 20n, for a total of 30.  So, standard rules, you'd take 2 BOD (12-10) and 6 STN (36-30); but, under the variant I was talking about, where the STN mod is applied only to the BOD that gets through, you'd take 2 BOD (12-10) and 6 STN (2 * 3).   So, wow.     
     
    Let's say the stun multiplier die was a 6, for x5.  Now the example would be 10-2 = 2 BOD and (12 * 5 = 60)  60 - 30 = 30 STN,
    vs 10-2 = 2 BOD and 2*5 = 10 STN.
     
    Hm.   I find a high STNx, especially the one based on hit locations, very reasonable for FH or DI or any lower-power game, since it makes it pretty easy to toss around KAs, but KO characters instead of kill them, at least some of the time, which can be good drama.  The consolation of being dropped by a high STNx when you have no rDEF, is that you weren't shot three more times and killed outright. 
     
    1d3+1 isn't really reduced, it's an average 3, which is higher than 1d6-1 (average 2.33) and can still give a x4 
     
     
  24. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to assault in High Powered Hero Campaign   
    I'd pass on that on that, personally, both as GM and player.
     
    In fact any character I would be likely to play would be likely to fight any "heroes" who tried to intervene in such a situation. And not with a code versus killing.
  25. Like
    Nekkidcarpenter reacted to Lord Liaden in High Powered Hero Campaign   
    Or you could just utilize the Stun Multiplier mechanic from Sixth Edition, i.e. instead of rolling 1d6-1, you roll 1/2d6. 1 or 2 = 1x Body, 3 or 4 = 2x Body, 5 or 6 = 3x Body. Makes the "Stun lottery" much more manageable.
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