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about that character...
Mar. 7th, 2002 04:16 pm...that rwx mentioned...
so i'm this big gaming geek, and while my group is in the midst of one campaign (in which i play a heavily tattooed assassin who's into origami and ritual drug use), we're already planning the next. B has come up with this fabulous concept -- it's a more or less modern-day setting, but with ghosts and spirit magic and psionics as things that really exist, but are thought of more or less the same way we think of alien abductions: some people are true believers, some are on the fence, and the majority think it's all a fairy tale.
if you can't stand to hear another boring origin story, stop right here.
my character for this one isn't fully fleshed out, but i've got a few things figured out so far. she's a techie chick; her mom died when she was little and she was raised by her dad, who runs a junkyard. she's good at fixing things, but with a twist -- most of the time, she fixes stuff by installing minor spirits in the hardware. her 'kludges' work only as long as you believe they work -- i.e., if she fixes your car, once you open the hood and realize she used duct tape and string to fix it and that can't possibly work, it stops working. she's living in the van and has it tricked out with all sorts of goodies like a hacked satellite uplink to the net and a lifetime supply of duct tape.
she has a boyfriend. he's a ghost. he came with her van, which she begged from her dad. ("If you can fix it, you can keep it.") my current pet theory as to who he was and how he died is that he was a phone tech working for BellSouth (the game will take place in New Orleans) and inadvertantly stumbled on something he shouldn't have. he may not even realize he stumbled on something, but it worried someone enough that they cut his brake line and he crashed the van and died. now he's haunting the van, and he's obsessed with finding out who killed him and why, and she's helping him out with it.
and it's *not* necrophilia, dammit. she's not fucking a corpse, she's fucking a spirit in the astral plane via lucid dreaming. i mean, honestly. i'm sick, but i'm not that sick.
wound-fucking, indeed.
so i'm this big gaming geek, and while my group is in the midst of one campaign (in which i play a heavily tattooed assassin who's into origami and ritual drug use), we're already planning the next. B has come up with this fabulous concept -- it's a more or less modern-day setting, but with ghosts and spirit magic and psionics as things that really exist, but are thought of more or less the same way we think of alien abductions: some people are true believers, some are on the fence, and the majority think it's all a fairy tale.
if you can't stand to hear another boring origin story, stop right here.
my character for this one isn't fully fleshed out, but i've got a few things figured out so far. she's a techie chick; her mom died when she was little and she was raised by her dad, who runs a junkyard. she's good at fixing things, but with a twist -- most of the time, she fixes stuff by installing minor spirits in the hardware. her 'kludges' work only as long as you believe they work -- i.e., if she fixes your car, once you open the hood and realize she used duct tape and string to fix it and that can't possibly work, it stops working. she's living in the van and has it tricked out with all sorts of goodies like a hacked satellite uplink to the net and a lifetime supply of duct tape.
she has a boyfriend. he's a ghost. he came with her van, which she begged from her dad. ("If you can fix it, you can keep it.") my current pet theory as to who he was and how he died is that he was a phone tech working for BellSouth (the game will take place in New Orleans) and inadvertantly stumbled on something he shouldn't have. he may not even realize he stumbled on something, but it worried someone enough that they cut his brake line and he crashed the van and died. now he's haunting the van, and he's obsessed with finding out who killed him and why, and she's helping him out with it.
and it's *not* necrophilia, dammit. she's not fucking a corpse, she's fucking a spirit in the astral plane via lucid dreaming. i mean, honestly. i'm sick, but i'm not that sick.
wound-fucking, indeed.
