Whiskeyception pt. 2: Slow Burn

""Whiskey." Caine said, and promptly seemed to contemplate if there was a separate universe in his glass."

---Meanwhile, In a Separate Universe Inside Caine's Glass of Whiskey---

"I spy, with Jorb's Wandering Eye, something gray."

"Is it the g-"

"Of course it's the bloody gate! There's nothing else out here!"

"There's a bush."

"It's blue!"

"More of a blue-ish gray."

"That's stupid. This is stupid. I refuse to be privy to this stupidity any furthur ."

"We could do something else."

"What else is there? We've got a flask, two spears, and some boots together, and throwing anything this close to the wall is just asking for trouble. Plus, they're a pain to clean."

"You have to work in circles with the rag."

"I was talking about the boots."

"You have to work in circles w-"

"We could see who could throw one farther, but I really doubt I want to walk on the sand barefoot in this heat."

"The wall is cool. I-"

Merry abruptly turned to look at his companion, a look of horror dawning in his eyes.

"...What?"

"The wall. It's allways cool-"

"Oh, Jorb. Oh, Jorb. Marina's face!" Merry closed the distance between them with one bound, and began shaking the younger man so hard about his shoulders that Merry's own ears began to flap. "You didn't touch it?! Tharrun, tell me you didn't touch the wall!"

Tharrun's answer came out thoroughly imcomprehensible due to being shaken rather violently.

Merry paused.

"What?"

"N-no. It's against regulations. Henry told me."

"What" Merry sighed out in an equal mix of relief and exasperation, sliding down his spear and onto the ground as all tension left his body. "Have I told you about talking to Henry?"

"He-"

"So that's what's wrong with him." Merry idly ran some of the parched dirt between his fingers. "Bad luck."

Big Bozo

Big Bozo “The Clown” Ellwood

Theme: Send in The Clowns

 
“It’s funny…because you’re dead.”

 

 

 

Class: Battle Babe (Edited slightly by Moi)

Stats: Cool +3, Hard+2, Hot+ 0, Sharp+0, Weird+3

 

Big Bozo is a hulking man dressed in colorful, fanciful entertainer’s clothes and showy armor that still manages to be surpassed in attention getting by his white grease paint covered, striking face and large, red nose. A wave of greasy, black hair falls over a hulking neck, leading to a monstrously muscular body. This clown is no joke! If those beady, indifferent eyes fall on you, pray you’re not on the wrong end of the punch line. And remember to laugh.

 

Marrote: handle (1-harm hand), head (+1 harm, metal mace), ornate (Leering Face and Tongue)

 

The Chucklebunker: rifle (2-harm, far, reload, loud), big (+1 harm,), hi-powered (+1 harm)

 

Moves:

-Visions of Death: when you go into battle, roll+weird. On a 10+, name one person who’ll die and one who’ll live. On a 7–9, name one person who’ll die OR one person who’ll live. Don’t name a player’s character; name NPCs only. The MC will make your vision come true, if it’s even remotely possible. On a miss, you foresee your own death, and accordingly take -1 throughout the battle.

“Will this be a tragedy…or a comedy.”

Science Fiction Double Feature