gaming... cause its what I do..
Currently the group is playing a game called Esoterrorists..
www.pelgranepress.com/gumshoe/esoterrorists/index.html
its a decent little game for the random one-off session or extremely short campaign (up to two maybe three sessions). its an indie press game, and the main book is extremely affordable.. well worth the 20 bucks that it lists at..
My character is named Jason Lumus. He is an ex-FBI agent that simply saw too much, was drummed out of his job, and now works to keep the bad things secret and/or dead. When not working for the Order (the group fighting against the cthulhu-esq monsters) he runs several porn sites, writes for the Weekly World News, and updates a couple of wacko-conspiracy theory sites (sort of like the newspaper in Conspiracy Theory). His manner of dress is almost straight out of the 50's..
Slim black suit, narrow tie, dark shades, and a fedora..
groups.yahoo.com/group/DumbassAdventures/files/%20nix%20%28%20sean%20%29%27s%20characters/ (just click on the Jason Lumus link)
here is a run-down of the session
from the journal of Jason Lumus
The day started off well enough. The screaming and death dreams had not come
leaving me to rest in comfort. I updated my adult sites with fresh material and
entered new data into the conspiracy pages. During lunch I began the outline of
my next submission to Weekly World News under the psuedonym.
The nights work hadn't gone as well as I had hoped. The woman that had hired me
to track her husband had lied. The man did not actually suck the souls from the
living leaving them desecated corpses begging for death, he was merely another
cheater. He scrambled for his pants as I broke down the door and had an
accident when he saw my 1911 leveled at his chest. The woman, on the other
hand, was a pro, she merely leaned over and lit a cigarette while waiting for it
all to work itselt out.
I made sure to take her name down for future work.. she was a real looker and
would be sure to bring in a few extra pervs. The man pulled his underwear on
and attempted to bluster his way free of everything, so I kneed him in his groin
and clocked him on the side of his head as he went down. At this point the wife
came in, saw her husband bleeding on the floor, screamed, and rushed to be at
his side. It was at her insistance that this man was a monster and that I
should track him down, and now she was blaming me for his cocussion..
dames.. never could figure them out.
The hooker was waiting on me at my car so I gave her a lift to her home, and a
few hours later I made it home myself. She agreed to be a model and I called
the various photographers that I used to inform them of the new shoot coming up.
She seemed especially pleased with the fetish work.
the Order got ahold of me late in the afternoon and told me to be at LAX, so I
did. When I got there there was a van waiting, and eventually my five
team-mates showed up. One was a spelunker from Germany, one was a combat
photographer, there was a exo-zoologist, an emt, and a cop from Baltimore.. all
in all.. a very odd group and it left me wondering what we were up against.
Soon enough the question was answered, we were to investigate a 'supposed'
miracle. A man by the name of George Bently was resurrected during a charity
event for children. The charity was linked to George Bently and his wife Grace
Summerville, thus we headed to Millenium Biltmore Hotel disguised as
correspondances from the CBC..
Canada.. the perfect guise.. who the hell worries about a freakin Canadian..
We find that almost all avenues of information are blocked and have been blocked
for ten days since the 'miracle'. Eventually we do find out that the
resurrection was actually a planned part of the event..
rich people are weird...
A security officer by the name of Charlie sells us the video survelliance from
that night showing everything that occured. We bargained him down from 100k to
40k.. I had thought to pay him in Canadian currency, but with the economy in the
sinkhole as it is it wouldn't have made a huge differance. We leave the hotel
and head for a university to research and authenticate the tape and to do some
work on a substance one of the others found in the ballroom. She was
dark-haired, wore some occult-esq garb, and spouted some nonsense as she dumped
some liquid over the body and into its mouth. At this point the corpse 'came to
life'. Her name turned out to be Cassandra Mandrigal, and with a little digging
we find that she is a 'psychic to the stars'..
which is basically a hippie-nutcase-tree hugger-communist-loonie goof ball..
We found out that the liquid has a high level of detratoxin, the same stuff in
puffer fish that is toxic. An odd coincidence is that there was a baby born a
few days ago dying due to the same toxin destroying its organs. We make our way
there to investigate and the sight of the baby was enough to shake even the most
hardened soul.
The skin was grey and blotchy. The body was lumpy and hundreds of tubes ran in
and out of the poor thing keeping it alive.. we expected it to last maybe
another three days. We question the nurse on duty and eventually find the
mother.
She was merely a whore that got knocked up. She had been put on a retainer, but
never saw the mans face. All she could say was that he was old and had blotchy
skin.. just like the baby. and that she had been employed like this for the past
ten monthes. Her name was Eve Granier.
We leave her in her grief, after informing her that the childs fate was
completely due to her lifestyle and that its death was due to her.
We then make our way to Cassandra Mandrigals apartment to question her about her
involvement in the case. I take a quick survey of the place.. its only on the
second floor, right next to the beach, and its walls were thin..
if things got bad, we would attract attention quickly.. so we played it low-key
and continued as CBC reporters. The photographer was.. well.. the photographer.
The exo-zoologist was the 'face' of the group, the interviewer. The cop was the
sound guy. The emt was just a gopher. The german was make-up, and I volunteered
to be the producer.
She welcomed us into her small apartment and it simply screemed 'new-age loon'.
The stench of patchouli was clawing and the artwork on the walls would be better
served in a landfill. She asked us if we wanted herbal tea.. only two of us
did. The interviewer/zoologist asked for jasmine I believe.. I ask for ginsing
just in case she has to be wooed for information she will know that I have that
extra bit of oomph to curl her toes and unshaven legs.
Cassandra opens up to us like we are Barbera Freakin Walters..
it might all have been b.s. or the truth so convoluted that even she couldn't
tell if it was the truth or not, but the broad would not shut up. Maybe as she
was becoming the New Age guru to the stupidly rich.. she excised a major portion
of her own brain. She had to of done something cause the chick was dumber than
a box full of broken crayons.
She explains that she met Grace Summerville soon after her husbands death in an
attempt to extort money from her during her grief..
I mean help her speak with her dead husband. But.. the husband wasn't really
dead.. he was only 'mostly dead' apparently. His spirit wouldn't rest and,
crap.. I really need to get a hippie gibberish-to-English dictionary. It was
through her work that Bently was able to be resurrected.. and insert more
hippie-commie-nonsense here.
As she blathered on, the emt searched the bathroom (with no success) and the
make-up guy searched the gown she had worn that night (finding the vial that had
stored the liquid)
Unfortunately, we couldn't ask about the vial, since on the tape she had only
used it through slight of hand.. and it wasn't 'known' that she had used the
vial of toxin..
We decided to head back to our hotel rooms to confer at this point..
tomorrow we will head out to find any stores that sell puffer fish, try and find
where the toxin was made.
We also need to find out where the body was kept and where they
Bently/Summervilles live.
The amount of esoterrorist activity in this case seems rather small at this
point, I guess this is why we are here without a sweeper team.