libraryogre
Overthinking It
The fandom ramblings of a librarian who thinks too hard about his fandoms. aka Mr. Nexx, aka Library Ogre. He/Him
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#no role at all#he's just someone who said he was someone a couple thousand years ago#one among hundreds
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“i’m a serious artist” i say, making another shitty meme comic
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Hey, babe, how about I give you a bit of fire and air?
“Fingers and their association with the 5 Absolute Cosmic Elements“
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"You Missed the Point by Idolizing Them" Starter Pack
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Top 5 things to find on an excavation (artefacts or non-artefacts; 'find' can be interpreted however you like)?
1. Cats
Can you say "site mascot"? Nothing turns a crowd of archaeologists into a cooing mess faster than an unexpected kitty, no matter how tough and professional they try to pretend they are. They're usually very pushy site visitors, but they're so dang cute that I don't even mind when they step into my unit without permission. Though there was the one that rolled in poison ivy and then immediately demanded scritches...
2. Stories
Those once in a lifetime finds you'll still be talking about at parties when you're 80. The trowel that went missing. Assemblages that create little mysteries you'll never unravel. The time the truck got stuck. That Tim Hortons your crew is never allowed to go back to. Your first projectile point. How hard so-and-so cried on backfill day
3. Friendship
Excavation crews share a special bond that can only be forged through engaging in many hours of often-tedious manual labour together over a few weeks or months. And you'll need this bond to get through (especially with the kinds of deadlines you have to work under in CRM). You may never see some of these people again, but if you're lucky you might find a lifelong friend or several down there in the dirt. Even the short-term friendships you form are important, though, because excavations aren't always within commuting distance of your home and it's pretty miserable never socializing with anyone outside of field hours
4. Artifacts that clearly belonged to kids
Toys, learning aids, first attempts at tool making, all fantastic. Even frozen Charlottes and tiny shoes, both of which are often seen as "creepy", make me smile. I am not immune to evidence of people being people, okay? Go look at the toys found in the Indus Valley sites (particularly the MANY found in the cities' extensive drainage systems) and remember how to feel joy
5. Textiles and textile-adjacent artifacts
We all knew this one was coming, let's be real. It's no secret that I love textiles. Several of my hobbies are fibre arts and I'm always looking for new ones to try, and this love of textile technologies extends into my archaeological work. Unfortunately for me, textiles themselves rarely survive in most contexts. But happily, there are other artifacts related to textiles that do survive. Buttons, thimbles, needles, loom weights, beads, spindle whorls . . . and then there's certain pottery decoration styles that everyone who knows me is thoroughly sick of hearing about. I will put down whatever I'm working on, no matter what, to go see any find related to textiles
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The Wayback Machine - http://web.archive.org/web/20070101233655/http://archive.dumpshock.com:80/CLUE/ShowCLUE.php3?page=casefile23.htm
The Body Electric
Gentle Readers:
In my years of service to CLUE, I've read some pretty horrifying cases. Sadly, I've become more than a little jaded - I was sure there wasn't much more out there that could surprise and/or shock me anymore.
I was wrong.
The following is account came from an eyewitness, namely the player of Tombstone.
The Players:
Calibre - Human weapon specialist
Reaper - Orc Street Sam
Shade7 - Orc Decker
Tombstone - Human Gargoyle Shaman
My group had recently blundered their way through a run that involved trying to stop a maniacal cult. The cult was holed up in a cemetery.
While standing outside the cemetery planning our attack, we caught sight of two people walking along the outside of the fence with submachine guns casually slung across their shoulders.
Well, Calibre sprang into action, putting into motion his 'shoot first and interrogate the corpse' policy, ignoring Tombstone's pondering of whether the people were in fact just security guards.
As it turns out, they were neither cultists nor guards, but members of a magical group/gang known as the Sons of Son. They were holding a midnight funeral for one of their fallen lieutenants and the two patrolling had merely been making sure that no rivals interfered.
So, after the murder of two of their members, the Sons of Son put out a 150,000-nuyen reward on the head of Calibre and 50,000 nuyen on the rest of the team, even though they had nothing to do with the deaths.
Calibre arranged for a new face, and SIN to match, through Reaper's street doc contact. While he was hidden safely away recovering from the surgery, Reaper, Tombstone and Shade7 began searching for a scapegoat who (with a little plastic surgery) could be handed over to the Sons of Son.
Searching the streets of Seattle, Reaper and Shade7 spotted a man who closely matched Calibre's build and appearance.
Please Note: It is five o'clock on a Monday afternoon in downtown Seattle.
Approaching the man, Shade7 exchanges a few words and discovers that the fellow is a male prostitute. Shade7 offers him one thousand nuyen for 'services' and they both get into his car, while Reaper follows them in another vehicle.
GM: OK, you get in the car and begin to drive away. The joyboy looks pretty happy, you offered him a LOT of money. He turns to you with a smile: "So, have you ever had a blowjob while driving?"
Shade7: No. Why don't we wait until we get to my place?"
Joyboy: trails his hand up Shade7's leg. "Trust me, I'm very good. I think you'll like it."
GM: He's unzipping your pants.
Shade7: "Hey, cut it out!" I'm going to push him off me.
GM: He's a fairly big guy, just as big as Calibre. You're not budging him. Besides, you're driving in rush hour and have to keep your attention on the heavy traffic. He reaches his 'objective,' pulls it from your underwear and starts to go down.
Shade7: I'm going to pull out my taser and zap him!
GM: (after a moment of silence) Oooookay.
At this point, the joyboy is administering a passionate, deep-throat blowjob.
The God-knows-how-many-thousands of volts of current goes through the joyboy and, via that wet and beautifully conductive 'connection' through to Shade7 as well.
This knocks them both unconscious with stun damage.
The car crashes.
Reaper pulls up behind his friend's wreck. He runs over, hauls Shade7 and joyboy from the wreckage and dumps them into his own car. Even though the joyboy wasn't buckled in, he is still alive (after almost going through the windshield). Reaper prepares to leave as dozens of eyewitnesses watch in disbelief. One brave and civic-minded citizen draws a light pistol to stop the Orc from leaving the scene of the crash. Reaper responds by pulling out his Ares HV LMG from the back seat of his car and tells the sarariman, in no uncertain terms, to back the frag off.
Reaper gets into the driver's seat and pulls away but is soon stopped by Docwagon, who are responding to Shade7's medical bracelet (platinum contracts - where would we be without them?). He hands over the unconscious body of his partner (scorched and still smoking trouser-snake prominently displayed) and leaves.
Five minutes later a Lone Star patrol car is hot on his tail, responding to emergency calls from the witnesses.
He turns onto a street choked with rush hour traffic, making escape difficult. So, Reaper comes up with the 'brilliant' plan - get up onto the sidewalk! Totally forgetting the poor pedestrians, he jumps the curb and begins mowing down helpless workers returning home after a long day. He kills four before his car can't take anymore and crashes. Again the joyboy isn't buckled in. But this time he isn't so lucky and promptly dies from massive head injuries.
Reaper abandons the car only to be confronted by the two Lone Star patrolmen, who tell him to drop to the ground. Being the raging psychopath that he is, Reaper ignores their orders and proceeds to tear them to pieces with his cybernetic 'Kid Stealth' legs, in full view of a dozen witnesses and the dashboard camera on the patrol cruiser.
Finally, Reaper manages to escape into the sewers. Many difficulties plague him, but he finds a group of street scum that live there (eating rats and garbage) and gives them his credstick with 100,000 nuyen as payment for showing him the way to his doss. Taking the credstick, they guide Reaper through the sewers to his destination. Reaper thanks them, guns them down, and pries the credstick from their dead fingers.
Wounded from his exchange with the cops and finding his picture plastered all over the trid and screamsheets, Reaper decides to call his street doc to arrange for a little plastic surgery of his own. However, after he picks up the phone he remembers - not only is the doc is in hiding with Calibre, but he has no idea where the hideout is!
The session ended there, with the following results:
Calibre: unwrapping his bandages in an unknown location.
Reaper: trying to unsuccessfully heal without medical attention.
Shade7: lying in a hospital ward while a nurse applies burn cream to the withered remains of his penis.
Tombstone: pondering why the HELL he hangs out with these idiots.
And, in the end, it was all for nothing since they managed to get Calibre's decoy killed
Well, what can one say to that, except to ask that you please keep the moans of pain, cries of disbelief, and general wails of agony to a bearable level.
[...]
Ciao for Now,
Karen
Spellcasters hate this fact but if you just stick your fingers in their mouth while they're casting a spell with a verbal component it's literally more effective than a counter spell.
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Public speaking is actually really easy if you don't respect a single soul in that room. I've had an incredibly easy time delivering speeches when I hated everybody I saw and they all thought I did amazing because my disdain was read as confidence. I don't have any tips for you I'm just telling you a fact
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