Sam: When last we left our intrepid cabal of freaks, they were looking battered and beaten and carrying a glowing knife in
a heavily trafficked house of mirrors.
Fanny (ooc): Who are the freaks? Christabel has an Appearance of 4.
Bill: "I say we find somewhere to discuss what we just experienced. That episode reminded me of a failed Seeking I once
had, except with more mirrors, Nephandi, and cotton candy involved..."
Nate: "You are welcome to return to the hospital. After tonight, I think all of us need to consult a physician."
John: "Sounds good to me."
Sam: You all go back to Serenity Hospital.
Mary (ooc): That sounds like the name of a retirement home.
Sam (ooc): Don't look at me. I let Nate name it.
Nate (ooc): But I never got around to it.
Sam (ooc): Which is why I gave it a ridiculous name. When the Storyteller gives a player power to control an aspect of
the game, and he doesn't take it, any bad things that happen to that aspect become that player's fault.
Nate: "You are welcome to the hospitality of the hospital. Now, would any of you care to explain who you are, what you
are doing here in Edinburgh, and WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?"
Sam: Okay. Who's going to start?
Ed: "I cannot explain much. My name is Allan Masters, Hermetic mage and vampire hunter. I got a call from the local
constabulary in Inverness last month. Apparently, they had stumbled onto three murder victims under circumstances they
described as 'weird'. They had heard of a similar case in London, which I had worked on, and decided to call me as a special
investigator. The three men had been drained of all blood, but there were no marks of injury upon them. I knew immediately
I was dealing with a vampire. I tracked him to an old mansion a week later, but he had already fled, leaving a few surprises
for me. I spent the next two weeks in a hospital, but my search of the leech's had yielded a receipt for a train ticket to
Edinburgh and a poster for a circus. When I snuck into the circus a few nights ago, I was attacked by a pair of men with
superhuman strength. I suspect they were my quarry's ghouls. It is possible our guide last night is my prey."
Nate: "Possible?"
Ed: "Yes. All vampires are parasitic murderers and must therefore be destroyed, but the only way I get paid is if I
bring the criminal responsible for the murder of those three men to justice. I don't have enough evidence of Azreal's
wrongdoing, yet. When I find the murderer, I must stake him and bring him back to Inverness."
John (ooc): Are you insane? Staking a vampire with Fortitude? What were you thinking when you wrote your background?!
Ed (ooc, eying Sam): The same thing Nate was thinking when he forgot to name the hospital, apparently.
Sam: If your background doesn't make me feel like I'm reading The Inferno, it's my job to add a few additional rings to
your personal hell. If it is more boring than a Jane Austen novel, I add a few more weddings and hangings to make it more
interesting. If the history section is blank, you get icebergs and albatrosses...
Fanny (ooc): I like Jane Austen. Her books aren't boring at all.
Nate (ooc): If you don't mind reading two hundred pages about men and women obsessing over whether the other person is
right for them when it is perfectly clear to the reader within the first twenty-five who will marry whom. It's like Robert
Jordan, except with fewer Trollocs.
Fanny (ooc): At least she writes realistic women. They're not constantly smoothing their dresses or making eyes at every
good-looking man who walks by.
Mary (ooc): No, but they spend the entire time worrying about whether the men are wealthy. A bunch of balls and
tittering about who is a good match for whom does not make a good story.
John (ooc): Fanny is right. Austen focuses on relationships, both the practical and the romantic, though I will admit
she often neglects passion, focusing instead on logical reasons to fall in love. Love does not always make sense, isn't
that right, dear?
Fanny and John rub noses.
John clears his throat.
Mary (ooc): It's not that I have a problem with love on principle. I just think, as a subject of fiction, it is just a
trifle banal. Writing love stories takes no imagination at all.
Fanny gasps in shock.
Fanny (ooc): That's not true! She breaks conventions of romance all the time. You can't tell me that Lydia and Wickham
have a perfect storybook relationship.
Sam (ooc): I couldn't get through all of Pride and Prejudice, but it just seemed like a simple version of a Shakespearean
comedy with less cross-dressing and no comedy.
John (ooc): It might not be perfect, but it's a much better book than some of the other love stories out these days.
Mary (ooc): That doesn't mean it's imaginative, just more imaginitive than the most. There are only so many things you
can do with a love story. Shakespeare was running out of ideas for them after awhile, I think. That's why he started with
the cross-dressing and fairies. Sure, they have a plot, but they don't actually say anything.
John (ooc): Yes she does. Austen advocates a balance between passion and reason in romance.
Mary (ooc): John, you're a physician. I'm sure you realize we are living in the most technologically advanced era in
human history. We're unlocking the secrets of the Universe at an astounding pace, making headway in areas of science no one
even knew existed a hundred years ago.
Bill (ooc): I read Frankenstein, Mary. I thought it was quite good.
Mary (ooc): Thanks, Bill. Anyway, it is foolish to think that our rate of technological advancement will slow down any
time in the near future, so it stands to reason we will continue making amazing discoveries we can't even imagine, yet. Why
worry about a few mundane characters' lives when, by merely using modern discoveries as a seed for creativity, it is possible
to extrapolate even greater discoveries and scientific marvels. Then, by considering the implications of those discoveries,
it is possible to determine their impact on humanity. True imagination lies in seeing, not what is, but what is possible.
Bill (ooc): To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
and eternity in an hour.
Mary (ooc): Exactly. We're playing Mage, a game that makes a big deal out of imagination. We can throw balls of fire,
fly, and read minds - anything we can imagine.
Bill (ooc): What is now proved was once only imagined.
Mary (ooc): Yes. Mage deals with what it means to have more power than a normal person. It is about what we do with
that power and what that power does to us. Mage has issues. What kind of gamer would hang out on a Saturday night to play a
character with no unusual abilities who lives a completely ordinary life? If I ran a game called Mortal: Enduring Boredom,
who here would want to play it? Why read about normal lives when you're already living one?
Fanny (ooc, cooly): Why would anyone want to disconnect themselves from reality that way? What's wrong with beauty for
its own sake? What's wrong with showing people as we are?
John (ooc): Yes. Poetry and stories tell us what it means to be human. A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
Poe (ooc, muttering): Unless it gets burned in a fire.
Mary (ooc): But what does it teach us? How does it instruct us?
John (ooc, hotly): I told you. Austen's lesson in Pride and Prejudice is that passion and reason must be balanced in
romance.
Mary (ooc, sarcastically): I see you both learned that one well.
Ed (ooc, to Nate and Bill): So, who would win in a war between the Empire in Star Wars and Star Fleet of Star Trek?
Bill (ooc): The Empire.
Fanny (ooc, livid): How dare you?!? Like your marriage started out any better!
Nate (ooc): Star Trek.
Mary (ooc): I never said it did, but I didn't claim to learn a lesson and then clearly not follow it.
Bill (ooc): Well, it would depend. Before or after the Death Star?
Ed (ooc): If the Rebellion hadn't wiped out the second Death Star.
Fanny (ooc): At least John wasn't married when we started seeing each other!
Nate (ooc): Well, Original Series might have a bit of a problem, but Captain Picard could still waste it.
Bill (ooc): Need I remind you that the Death Star could blow up planets?
John (ooc): Easy, ladies. This isn't Jerry Springer.
Nate (ooc): So? Picard took down a Borg cube in First Contact.
Bill (ooc): He was able to do that because, having been a Borg before, he knew its weakness. He doesn't have that
advantage in this case.
Mary (ooc): I'm going to pretend you didn't say that because I know you're not thinking clearly. This is a pretty petty
response to literary discussion, don't you think?
Sam rolls a few dice idly and takes notes behind his GM's screen.
John (ooc): Let it go, honey.
Fanny (ooc): Did you hear what she said? I'm not petty!
Sam: Mary and Fanny, soak Agg 6.
Nate (ooc): Picard could beam people onto the Death Star.
Bill (ooc): Where they'd get cut to pieces by legions of Stormtroopers.
Nate (ooc): Stormtroopers couldn't hit a Roman road with a stick.
Bill (ooc): Obi Wan specifically says in A New Hope...
Mary (ooc): Agg 6? Why? We're in a hospital!
Sam (ooc): I don't know. Maybe you're being attacked by Werewolves in Chrinos. Or maybe the MIBs are firing Primium
bullets at you. You won't know until you PAY ATTENTION TO THE GAME.
Everyone shuts up and looks at Sam.
Sam (ooc): Remind me never to mention Jane Austen again.
John and Fanny have a whispered conversation.
Fanny (ooc): Sorry, Mary. We obviously have different opinions.
Mary (ooc): It's okay, Fanny. I'm the one who abandoned logic for a personal attack. I know you and John are in love.
Don't think I've forgotten what that's like, obstacles and all. I just get tired of reading about it, I guess. I think just
about everyone has asked me if I've read any Jane Austen. When I tell them I have, they seem to expect that she is my
favorite author and immediately launch into speeches about how good a writer she was. I just can't get into her.
Sam (ooc): We can continue now, right?
Nate (ooc): But in Star Wars, everyone uses lasers! In an episode of The Next Generation, the crew of the Enterprise
specifically mentions that lasers won't even get through the hulls of their ships with the shields down. The Death Star
might be able to blow up a ship with their primary weapon, but all their laser turrets and the weapons of the rest of the
fleet couldn't even breech the shields on a shuttle craft!
Bill (ooc): They're not lasers. They're blasters. Besides, Darth Vader could offer to talk to the captains and
strangle Picard within seconds of his saying "On screen."
Sam (ooc, loudly): Bill and Nate, soak Agg 6.
Bill (ooc): Sorry. We're paying attention, now.
Fanny (ooc): What do I roll to soak Agg?
John (ooc): You don't, unless you have armor.
Mary (ooc): Do we still actually take damage, or were you just trying to get our attention?
Sam (ooc): Don't worry about the damage. I just wanted to get back to the game.
Nate (ooc): Where were we before we got side-tracked?
Ed (ooc): At Serenity Hospital. Allan just finished telling the rest of the cabal how the Storyteller hosed him.
Mary (ooc): I'll go next.
Mary: "My name is Clara Byron. I'm a Daughter of Ether, and the only child of the famous inventor, Mary Byron. The man
you name Sir William murdered my mother in Bath, and I tracked him here to Edinburgh. I will make him pay for her death,
whether the Nephandi made him do it or not. We are responsible for our own actions."
John: "I am Homer Psyche, accidental member of the Euthanatos. Six years ago, I was at home, trying to sleep late one
summer night. As it neared three, I saw a woman standing in my bedroom. Her movements were graceful and perfectly silent as
she came toward my bed, a knife's blade glimmering in her hand. Thinking her a burgler, I froze and waited for her to come
near me. At last, she stood only a pace away, her face illuminated by the full moon outside my window. I have never seen,
nor do I ever expect to see, a creature so beautiful as she was, the avatar of slaughter. She hesitated for a moment over my
still form, her eyes staring into mine. Then her blade came down to cut away my life, but I blocked it with my arm.
Ignoring the pain and flowing blood, I drew her to me, devouring her with kisses and soft words. She responded in kind, and
we were lovers forever after, though she never spoke of the reason why she had tried to kill me that night nor of where she
went when she left Bath. She would often spend weeks away from my side, often returning with injuries she refused to
explain and her beautiful eyes as sad as God's after the Flood. We were married four years ago. On our wedding night, Mel
revealed the reason why she had come to my home that night and why each trip saddened her. Mel, my beloved wife, was
destined to kill a hundred people marked for death by Fate. She was a mage, a member of the Euthanatos, and only she could
see the mark of dire Fate upon her victims or find them when they were out of her sight. Her task weighed heavily upon her,
but she fulfilled her duty to the Wheel, though it might force her to murder women and children and helpless old men. I was
one of those destined to die by her hand, and for her betrayal of destiny, she was suffering all the more. She was driven
always to hunt and kill those marked for death, and could not stop herself from killing me. Mel's love for me stayed her
hand, but she knew she would one day be forced to kill me, though she resolved to save me for last. Each victim she felled
saddened her, for it was one person closer to the terrible task of murdering her beloved. Seventy souls she returned to the
Wheel before misfortune overcame her. One of her victims came from a powerful family that sought revenge on their son's
slayer. They murdered her on the train to Bath, on the train that would return her to my company, where she would weep for
hours, knowing the terrible deed she would one day be forced to commit. I knew the hour of her death, for she came to me as
a spirit. Having failed her task, Mel became trapped and dammed, unable to return to the wheel, but condemned to wander as a
Wraith. Unless all those marked for death were returned to the Wheel by violence, she would wander the Shadowlands forever.
I offered to take up her destiny; after all, if I could not have her in this life, perhaps Fate would be kinder to us in the
next turning of the Wheel. One of those so marked is Sir William. Twenty-five more must I kill to free my beloved. Then I
must kill myself."
Ed (ooc): And I thought Sam hosed ME.
John (ooc): Actually, I wrote my own character history.
Sam (ooc): Which means he deserves anything I do to him.
Bill (ooc): Dark Fate should be worth more than five points. Hope you have a back-up character, John.
Mary (ooc): I think you earn the Angst Award, John.
Fanny: "My name is Christabel Alphea. I'm sorry all of you got mixed up in this. When Sir William said he had made a
grievous error and told me not to try to follow him, I thought he had gotten so far into debt he would have to flee to the
Americas, and he thought it too dangerous to expose me to it. I guess it might explain the garden."
Nate: "The garden?"
Fanny: "I can't explain it. I'm a really good gardener, but whenever my fiance helped me weed or water, weird things
would happen to the plants."
John: "They would die?"
Fanny: "No. Well, not usually. There was the pumpkin that was filled with hissing black beetles instead
of seeds when I cut it open. And there were the strawberries."
Bill: "The strawberries?"
Fanny: "Yes. They screamed when picked and bled when cut. A mouthful of blood tastes terrible.
John (ooc): I don't remember discussing this when we made your character, Fanny.
Fanny (ooc): Oh, Sam helped me fine-tune a few things.
John (ooc): Can I look?
Fanny (ooc): No. Shall we continue? Who's next?
John looks perplexed.
Nate: "My name is Walter Smollett - friar, nurse, and member of the Celestial Chorus. If it comes into this hospital, it
is my business."
Bill: Draw stares into space. "I guess that leaves me. I came to Edinburgh to have a good time - drink, get laid, maybe
find someone else who is fond of bondage."
Ed (ooc): What's bondage?
John opens his mouth.
Sam (ooc): Nevermind, Ed. It's not important right now.
Bill: "Anyway, last night came as a bit of a surprise..."
Nate: "Does it have something to do with that woman last night?"
Bill: Draw nods slightly, eyes closed.
Nate: "Who is she?"
Bill: Draw's eyes snap open as they stare Walter in the face. "My wife!"
John (ooc): The plot thickens.
Mary (ooc): Or curdles, at least.
Sam: See you next week.
ST (Sam) - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Clara (Mary) - Mary Shelley
Christabel (Fanny) - Fanny Brawne
Draw (Bill) - William Blake
Homer (John) - John Keats
Walter (Nate) - Nathaniel Hawthorne
Allan (Ed) - Edgar Allan Poe