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the SPACE VOYAGE! meme

Welcome to the JSS NTE 928C "Tentacleprise"! The crew, continuing on its five year mission to explore the strange new universe, seek out some life, and go where no Voltron has gone before, is in crisis!

THE CREW

Captain James T. Zell
First Mate ~~Hei~~ Li Shengshung
Communications Officer McCoy
Science Officer Cludig
aaaaaaaaaaaaand the ship's fabulously intelligent computer, codename: SHONAGON

STRANDED! Something has gone terribly wrong with the Energy Pile Core Crystal Reactor... but what? Nothing works - not the transporter, not the food synthesizers, not the ship's engines! Trapped in deep space, the crew is dead in the water unless they can figure out a way to restore power. BUT HOW?

Only the ship's computer knows! Unfortunately for SHONAGON the answer defies imagination. Due to an Alumniniorite Sympathetic Detachment Anomaly in this quadrant, the crew must provide sufficient heart to turn the reactor back on. The quickest way to do this is...a group hug!

Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnnn!

Members of the crew, your mission, whether or not you choose to accept it, is to play out this scenario.

& sixth

With the essentials arranged and the party more or less outfitted, Joffrey led them from the armory. And as they departed, he nodded to his darkling lieutenant, who stayed behind. Evidently she had some words to share with the guards.

"I think it is unwise to rouse any further suspicion," he declares, not to anyone in particular. "We shall have to disguise you, if you are to leave the city unhindered. A troupe of actors, perhaps. Or merchants. Your transport awaits outside."

Attentive members of the team may note that for some reason there are very few persons of any sort wandering the halls in Joffrey's wake. Either he is leading them into a less-used portion of the palace, or perhaps it is only the late hour that was to blame. The torches and candelabrae struggle against the cool black syrup of the night; footsteps echo louder, and the sinister penitent hissing of night-beetles creeps in through the windows.

Eventually a rough stone gallery opens before them. In the overhang outside, the party might espy an empty carriage of six seats, and a team of horses whose color was lost in the low light.

A crisp, brisk thrill hangs in the air: the promise of adventures to come.

Joffrey draws the group into a rather musty little room and shuts the door behind them, which plunges them all into pitch blackness.

OUTFIT YER PARTY

With the consent of all party members obtained....

"Then we must begin at once; time is of the essence."

The prince expertly navigates the maze of hallways; wherever he goes, courtiers bow and guards wear expressions of relief and fierce loyalty. He leads the party into the guardsmans' quarters, and from there into the sort of dim, undecorated halls where people with actual jobs to do might wander. Stern-faced men and women with dusty hair pass by, sketching curtsies and bows, carrying water, hay, and buckets of swords.

Guards and more than just guards walk by from time to time: grim militiamen, frontier wizards, harsh and soot-blasted cannoneers, fierce-faced and near-foreign detachments from the borders to the north, and now and again a delicately beautiful boy or girl in the carnation pink uniform of the Rose & Cherry Corps - the dedicated parade team, each of whom was said to be more deadly with a bestreamer'd baton than most warriors were with an axe.

Eventually they come upon a great double doors. The guards arrayed upon either side wish his princefulness a good evening, and look askance at the motley crew behind the prince.

"Friends of mine." He smiles. "May we?"

"Your highness!"

The doors part and reveal within a glittering torrent of death-dealing implements, cast in the thin, dramatic ochre light of flaming torches. Barrels of steel swords, spears of every lightness and length, bows with heroic draws that could throw an arrow a quarter of a mile, mage-staves that glitter with smoke, battle-goblets, brass-inlaid battleaxes, razor-sharp discii, suits of shining chainmail, silken robes laid with so many defensive spells that the sleeves held a crimp if you so much as look at them, so on and so forth.

Joffrey intones in his pleasant carrying voice: "Please, outfit yourselves; stint in no way, for I know not what dangers you will meet on the road ahead."

Somehow Varrå arrived ahead of them. She is already wandering amongst the war sceptres, idly rubbing them with her thumb to set the magical ones crackling and steaming.

(Help yourselves, team! Just assume that nearly anything you could want is here. Enchanted weapons might not work the way your character is used to having them work, however...

Joffrey and Varrå are available if you have questions. They will give you advice to the best of their abilities. You may also wish to ask about provisioning your journey, while you're here.

This is a sort of mandatory open post. We'll start Saturday's session with the assumption that your character is fully outfitted and ready to go.)

& the fifth

As the dinner wound down, forks clanked upon empty bowls, the prince and his batman (Varrå) rustled quietly with glasses of sherry, the guards shuffled hungrily at the door, servants hustled to and from the table to remove unsightly used dishes, and the sun slipped below the horizon. Joffrey waved a hand and focused upon the magnificent chandelier that hung above them; it burst into brilliance, though there was no telling from this angle whether it was by candle-flame or some arcane magelight. Varrå recrossed her legs and examined all that passed within the room, though she was herself silent, and neither ate nor moved from her seat (Joffrey had poured her drinks for her.)

(GROUP: you have 15 minutes to figure out what you think of each other. Talk amongst yourself to handwave interactions and determine opinions!

Joffrey isn't going to ask you, but do assume you've just spent two hours in each others' company and have had time to form some thoughts. Don't reply here, there will be another post below with a hook for the group to reply to!)

MINGLING POST: DINNER

Dinner is served right in the parlor. Servants come in bearing a large low table which they set between the couches and chairs. Another one brings a white cloth, which he snaps over the surface, and a third and fourth bring porcelain and silver and napkins to set place. Glasses follow, then a flower arrangement.

The presentation is casual, if thorough. Wine, beer, and cold water arrive in hefty pitchers. The dinner dishes are arrayed in buffet service upon the sideboard. An enormous joint of roast beef is there, piping hot and already carved, and a whole salmon that had been broiled over salt; and platters of asparagus, roasted root vegetables, broiled tomatoes; and a great tureen of turtle soup, and another of potatoes au gratin (although it has another name here, potatoes and cheese are a literally universal constant.) There are baskets of rolls and cups of butter and strawberries and salt and pepper and everything else necessary for a civilized meal al fresco.

(Picking up from here. Chat, dine, and get familiar with each other! Joffrey may circulate amongst the diners. This post will set up next week's game nite!)

& the fourth

The Third Thingy

THE BEARD AU MINGLING POST

Welcome back to Feng's. You know the drill. Without further warning, here's

The BEARD AU Meme

Hello, your character now has a beard. Probably you want to know why. Please pick one of the options below and post accordingly:

Shut up, I just have a beard ok.
PIRATES. On a pirate ship. Arrrrr.
A beard is the most feminine thing it is possible to have.
A beard is the most humiliating thing it is possible to have.
Office oyajis! You have beards b/c you're old and white collar.
Heh, this beard is just.... a face wig! /rips it off
Spock with a beard? I think not (You're your evil twin.)
Whatever reason you want.

Tag out and be ludicrous please. Thanks.

There maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay or may not be NPCs rolling around in this meme. (Probably, yes.)

The Second.... Thingy

Welcome, outlanders, to the throne room of (presently unconscious) King Alxis of Glazingstoke. The lilac-colored eyes of the sorcerous Prince Joffrey fix with unnerving penetration upon the party of outlanders as he clasps his beloved father to his breast. Limned he is by the last of his flames; their low ebb purples the face of the slumbering king. The echoes of deep magic swirl in the room and color the sunlight that streams through the windows.

"Explain yourselves." He commands. It is the tone of someone who is used to being obeyed immediately.

Behind him, about him, a few guards are coming around from their poisonous nap. Groggy blinking; clumsy, sleep-swollen hands fumbling to check upturned helmets, or grasp weapons, or smooth ruffled feathers. A muffled "wut happnd" slurs from someone's numb lips. Two piles of black ash smoulder silently upon the dais.

(Free-for-all response)

OMAKE MINGLING POST: NEVER HAVE I EVER

NEVER HAVE I EVER

Come with me to the magical world of YALLS ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: the bar behind the soundstage where the world of Glazingstoke is filmed. Welcome to Cowboy Feng's. While you are here in Cowboy Feng's, nothing your character learns about other characters will stick, and you are not allowed to fourthwall in the actual game. (Of course, the next time you come to Cowboy Feng's, you'll remember it all.)

After a long day's trifling with Prince Joffrey, you've all elected to line up the shot glasses and play Never Have I Ever. For novices, here's how it works:

Someone (ICly) gives a statement about an interesting thing they have never done. Like "Never have I ever licked a cat."
If your character HAS done the thing, e.g. licked the cat, they take a drink.
If they have never done the thing, they smile smugly about how pure and precious they are while sneering at all the drunk losers. OK not really the goal here but that is the way it transpires when you play this game IRL.

You are encouraged to RP drunk antics as needed. And don't worry about the drinks, we'll put it all on your tab. The tab will be explained later. :) Have fun learning about each others' characters!

First Steps: Into The Throne Room

About the room: the doors to the antechamber and to the king's quarters have been closed. The Throne sits before a bank of windows that look out upon rolling hills covered in oaks and elms. It's a very large, very bejeweled throne. The walls of this room are panelled in priceless paintings and freizes in red and gold and divine blue, as is the ceiling; large urns of ancient and costly make are placed in the corners. Two lion statues (marble, each taller than a man) guard the antechamber door. There are four benches near the royal dais; local noblemen and the king's advisors fill them. There are four royal guards upon the dais.

Reminder: this is just to show you the physical setup. Reply only to the narrative step posts that will be below this top-level post. If this sucks and is irritating, we'll change it. Later.

Entry tags:

downtime

The Royal Antechamber

"Yer didn't think yer could just walk in?? Nae, 'citizen,' yer have to wait wi' the rest o' them."

The sarcastic guard in his exceedingly tall, white, round-topped ceremonial helmet points to the rest o' them: the variety of citizens in the antechamber. A fair cross-section of the denizens of Glazingstoke were represented: merchants in velvet, dancers in silk, churls in sack, criminals in chains, even one or two nobles in elaborate costuming. (The King abhorred lateness and arriving even a moment late to the morning ceremony was grounds to keep even the highest princess in the land out here in the peanut gallery.)

To be fair it is a very nice antechamber in which everyone is being made to wait. Scattered across the large, well-lit room are several benches (for the lowly,) couches (for the less lowly,) and a handful of gilt chairs intended to cup the the buttocks of the great and glorious. Large windows look out upon the courtyard garden. At a table by the windows there is a fancy-looking dispenser filled with water and lemon slices, though as a cost-saving measure there are no cups.

There are 2 guards stationed at each of the three doors in the room: the exit to the north wing, the exit to the main hall, and the doors to the throne room itself. Whether male or female, they are all rather bulky, with hands like huge, steely hams. One of them carries a wicked-looking staff instead of the traditional long spear. It would not be advisable to fuck with them no matter how silly their feathered and flowered uniforms look.

The crowd mills and waits for the hour of audience.

This is an open post that people can just fuck around in as the scenario suits. Try to tag other actual players, but NPCs may also be available to whine at.

This is a good time to think of
1. Your character's "how you got here" background
2. Something your character wants to discuss with or demand of the King of Glazingstoke

Your character can be anything you want except 1) a guard, 2) the King, or 3) related to the King. Everything else is fair game, from "worst criminal in all of Glazingstoke" to "the most useless farmer that ever pulled up a potato too soon" to "I'm just a tourist lol."

Ground Rules!

List three ground rules that will make your RP experience FULL OF JOY.

For me,
1) Everyone deserves a turn in the spotlight (and will get it XD)
2) It's the journey, not the destination. Winning or finishing is not that important to me as long as the trip is entertaining.
3) People should feel comfortable discussing any problems they have with each other or with the group as a whole. Nobody is going to wank on you here. Or I will kill them.

INTRODUCTIONS

Tell us

1) Your nick
2) Your character's name
3) One interesting thing about yourself
4) One interesting thing about your character

ANYTHING GOES

Entry tags:

rules n' stuff

A Sample Post Contains One Game Night Session

Stage-setting narration happens here.

The College of Noble Damosels in the Calle Santa Fé was in a whirl. It was "Foundation" day, an event annually celebrated with considerable fanfaronade and social éclat. Founded during the internecine wars of the Middle Age, the College, according to early records, had suffered rapine on the first day of term. Hardly, it seemed, had the last scholar's box been carried upstairs than a troop of military had made its appearance at the Pension gate demanding, with "male peremptoriness," a billet.