(no subject)
Anyway, that was Saturday. Sunday was a bit more VO work, then a reunion game of my old Call of Cthulhu crowd from when I lived outside Philly. We hadn’t played these characters for…sixteen years (!) but it was like we’d only paused for a few weeks. I’d say half the time we were back in our characters’ heads, dealing with the horror around us (badly), and the other half of the time we were laughing our asses off, remembering old jokes and coming up with new ones. Favorite line: “Do NOT start a bar fight with the Deep Ones.”
It was the epilogue to the campaign we’d played before, wrapping up the loose ends from before and deciding what our character’s futures entailed (If your characters have happy endings, you ain't playing Call of Cthulhu). We won’t be bringing them back for another adventure; they’re really too scarred by their experiences, their sanity too frayed and patched together to stand up to anything new. They will make good NPCs for any subsequent games the ST might run, though. Maybe we’ll get a chance to start something new, maybe not. All our schedules are a lot busier than when we were in our mid-20s. But it was great to get together and catch up.
Minor oddness this morning: When I was taking the recycling out to the curb, there was a large black cat sitting on my walk, who then proceeded to follow me around, mewing, purring, rubbing himself all over my legs and feet, and generally demanding affection. I thought perhaps he (didn’t check gender, but “he” works just fine) had gotten out of his house and was lost. He seemed very healthy and was wearing a collar with a name, address and phone number. I didn’t recognize the street right off, but it sounded familiar.
The cat, whose collar proclaimed his name as Roulette, followed me back to my front door. From my living room window, Phaedra STARED at the other cat. There was no way in hell I was bringing that other cat inside, but I was considering putting some food down for him. Perhaps he’d stick around long enough for Sarah to wake up and call the number, checking if he was lost. But it was 6:30 am and I had to get moving, so I petted him a bit, under the accusing glare of my own cat, then he yowled at her, seeing her in the window, and walked off across the yard.
Guess the bastard just decided randomly that I was a good source of random affection in the early morning. I suppose it’s good that I have two white cats to counteract any bad luck I might have gained from this black one.
- V -
It was the epilogue to the campaign we’d played before, wrapping up the loose ends from before and deciding what our character’s futures entailed (If your characters have happy endings, you ain't playing Call of Cthulhu). We won’t be bringing them back for another adventure; they’re really too scarred by their experiences, their sanity too frayed and patched together to stand up to anything new. They will make good NPCs for any subsequent games the ST might run, though. Maybe we’ll get a chance to start something new, maybe not. All our schedules are a lot busier than when we were in our mid-20s. But it was great to get together and catch up.
Minor oddness this morning: When I was taking the recycling out to the curb, there was a large black cat sitting on my walk, who then proceeded to follow me around, mewing, purring, rubbing himself all over my legs and feet, and generally demanding affection. I thought perhaps he (didn’t check gender, but “he” works just fine) had gotten out of his house and was lost. He seemed very healthy and was wearing a collar with a name, address and phone number. I didn’t recognize the street right off, but it sounded familiar.
The cat, whose collar proclaimed his name as Roulette, followed me back to my front door. From my living room window, Phaedra STARED at the other cat. There was no way in hell I was bringing that other cat inside, but I was considering putting some food down for him. Perhaps he’d stick around long enough for Sarah to wake up and call the number, checking if he was lost. But it was 6:30 am and I had to get moving, so I petted him a bit, under the accusing glare of my own cat, then he yowled at her, seeing her in the window, and walked off across the yard.
Guess the bastard just decided randomly that I was a good source of random affection in the early morning. I suppose it’s good that I have two white cats to counteract any bad luck I might have gained from this black one.
- V -