Félix Saparelli

(about me)

a.k.a. passcod

ali.vei.nth.eni.ght

Posted on Jan 10 ‘15

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Your cat, your glasses, and a giant butterfly walk into a room. You realise you’re the bartender. They ask for coffee. “With almond milk”, the cat adds. “You don’t want the aftermath of cow milk on your tile.” You turn around, sight a half-empty bottle of vodka and loose tea leaves. It does not appear to be a nightmare. Roll 3d17s mod 8, no, not those ones, the blue and yellow-polka-dots ones, for your blood-alcohol level in ppm. You have 9¾ moves left before full fatigue hits. All other members of your party are Permanently Vanished. Consider the GM (that’s me) to be omnipotent (when sober) and having a fondness for chocolates (white). As a reminder, you have Steel Skin Level 9 applied, a full Spell Book, and Magic Points to last you until Armageddon comes… which should be in 25 minutes, give or take a couple dozen seconds, according to today’s schedule. Proceed.

(original)