Sunday, 24 January 2016

Farewell, Jareth

It's taken me a while to write this, because I'm not ready to accept it. But that's life and death and that's how it goes.

When I was toddler-sized, my favourite books were Spot's Birthday Party by Eric Hill, Meg and Mog by Helen Nicholl and Jan Pieńkowski - and Outside Over There by Maurice Sendak. My elder sister recalls hiding her fear of the story in order to read it to me over and over again as only a toddler can demand, and I think it's her love for me that is why I loved the story so much: I knew if I was ever taken by fairies, she would, without question, be there to bring me home. I have never doubted that.

So move onward a few years, and I'm watching TV. I think I must have been around 8 or 9, because I remember it as being a large, colour TV and we didn't have a colour TV until I was 8. I missed the beginning of the film I was watching, this was long before the days of pressing a button on the remote (what remote?!) to see what you were watching, and we didn't have a TV guide. I was entrhalled, but I had no idea what film it was that had me so spellbound.

Fast forward to my third year of uni. I was home alone and bored, nosing through my housemate's dvd collection. She was a huge Bowie fan, and at this point my only known exposure to him had been the mother of my French exchange student asking "Iz eet pronounced 'Boh-ee' ou 'Bough-ee'?" so I'd been enjoying educating myself on his music. But it was the dvd shelf that stunned me, because there was a film there that looked so familiar. I was sure, but afraid to be sure, to the point my hands were trembling as I put it on. 

There was one scene I remembered most vividly: the Ida character and some goblin reaching a garden by climbing up a ladder and out of a flowerpot to meet a wiseman with a talking hat. Turns out I remembered it wrong: Sarah and Hoggle don't climb out of a flowerpot. But Labyrinth was the film that I had been seeking for somewhere around 15 years.

What I'm saying is, I was late to discovering the depth of the importance and power of David Bowie, but his impact on me was no less for it. I want to write one day about why Labyrinth is an important film ("You have no power over me"), but not today: Bowie is an amazing actor as well as a wonderful musician and the Jareth character is truly sinister, but today I wanted to talk about Bowie.

I find I still don't have the words. 

I was angered when I saw a newspaper headline (I think the Sun) "Shock Bowie Cancer Death". It was not a shock: Lemmy's death was a shock, but Bowie's we knew was coming. Or at least, I saw the announcement 18 months or so ago but no paper followed the story and I managed to convince myself it had been an internet hoax. Just because the papers hadn't realised how much he meant to the world didn't mean his illness wasn't known. I've been similarly annoyed by the people who say, on listening to his latest single, "It's like he knew he was going to die!" Well, yes.

Oh, but I know my anger is the frustrated anger of the bereaved. And as with Sir Terry Pratchett last year, I feel a bit weird that I'm feeling bereaved at the loss of someone I never met. And that makes me feel weird, because somehow I've always known I'd meet David Bowie, a conviction I can't trace the root of (unless it was in that long quest to find the film...) and I'd never lingered on the thought long enough to question it until now, but the convistion is strong enough I'm beginning to wonder if there is an after life.

He was able to fluidly change himself time and time again. He was an openly bisexual person in a world of very few bisexual rolemodels. He was gender fluid in a gender binary time. And that might not seem important to everyone, but representation does matter, and he didn't just represent: he was loved. Is loved. And the huge musiccal legacy he has left us is something I am grateful for.

I feel sometimes that it must help when the person you love who's died is famous. When people close to me have died, there's been this seismic shift in the world to which most of the world seems oblivious. Not so for Bowie. Not so for Alan Rickman (whose generosity in supporting young talent from poor backgrounds and his commitment to equality needs to be more widely known). Not so for the rather striking number of famous deaths since Christmas.

Does it help to know the world mourns with you?

I didn't know what Bowie meant to me until now. It doesn't seem true that I'll never meet him. 

Farewell, Goblin King.

Sunday, 10 January 2016

Cyber-Doggies!

Hope you all had lovely New Year's! Husbit & I went back to my uni town to see friends I don't get to see often enough. Rowan & Gem kindly put us and other people up, and their daughters did everyone's hair. We drank beautiful purple swirly liquid provided by another friend called Gems and had a lovely time.

 
On the Saturday evening, Rowan ran a game for 8 of us - a 9th player arriving late. Made me smile because I'd recently read Mark Knight's thoughts on running large games, which had made me think of Rowan's games. This was a bit of a "GM v Players" game, a race for survival. We started by picking a name and a career path out of Military, Engineer, Medical or "something similar" (police and scientist were the only two that came up). What came next follows, with usual embellishment liberties taken where I forget things.

My name's Jenny Blake. I'm an engineer. I'm also a fictional device telling a story, which means I sometimes know things, like what someone else is thinking or doing when I shouldn't be able to. I know it can be really irritating, but it's going to make telling this story a lot easier to tell so you'll just have to forgive me.

I awoke as I was travelling down some tube, carried along by this weird goo that I could breath. When the tube ended, I somehow kept my feet and in the faint red light I became aware of two other people, though I couldn't focus on them or hear properly or even move to begin with. Other tubes flushed and more people arrived in the room, until there were seven. The light by an eighth tube lit, but a second red light appeared instead of the green that had preceeded the others arriving. I could hear muffled banging from the tube, and someone found the handle that released the man inside. 4 men, 4 women. We all stood there shakily for a bit, until one person called out for lights and we could see each other properly: vests and underpants and covered in goo.  

The friendliest of the people who'd landed was as clueless as me, but said her name was Sally. We could see other tubes, most empty but around 10 with corpses floating in. Made me shiver. Someone suggested spacing them, which led to an argument about where we were. A tough looking guy said he could feel motion, like we were in some kind of vehicle. Sally commented that the tubes were "long range... long range..." "Stasis pods" I finished for her. That would definitely suggest we were on a spaceship.

I followed the man who walked to where I started to remember were showers: none of us knew much, but getting clean helped. When we were done showering, I instinctively went to my locker for my clothes and gear, finding a bag with a blow torch, a mini screwdriver and other tools of that kind: Sally had similar, as did Robert. The stern faced woman - Chun Lee - and the tough-looking guy - Johnny Steel - had fully charged energy weapons and their uniforms revealed him to be a private and her a corporal. Roberto Mackenzie was a policeman, with a solid-round gun. The last woman had a medkit, Robbie some kind of handheld assistance computer. As he struggled to get it to bring up the "grammatics" of the ship, I tried to hurry everyone to the canteen: stasis had made me hungry. 

The canteen was exactly where my feet led me. As we entered, a conveyor belt started up, with bowls holding blocks of jelly travelling along. Steel took a bite of it and a few followed suit. I raised an eyebrow and took my bowl to the tap: the hot water turned it into a filling soup. Eating made me feel a lot better.

It was decided we should head to the bridge. The computer had limited ability to communicate with us and seemingly had taken damage. The primary core was accessible from the bridge, so that's where we'd start. As we walked, someone heard a thumping noise. We froze and listened: footfall, but one leg was a lot heavier than the other.

The military pair and the policeman had their guns out - I guess the quiet of the ship must have spooked them, because this must be deep space and who else could be here? Sally evidently agreed with me.

"Hellooo!" She called, "hello?" 

The footsteps stopped.

"Identify yourself" demanded Lee: a figure rounded the corner, a large man with a nasty gash on his head. His military uniform was ragged, revealing a metallic leg. She lowered her gun. "Dave?!"

He had no better clue than us what was going on so we carried on to the bridge. From the corner of his eye, Robert thought he saw movement, but no one could identify the source. The blast shields were down and the computer was completely on the fritz now: we could see several small holes and one larger (some kind of meteor bombardment?) that had pierced the ship through into the mainframe. Investigating inside revealed the charred remains of the duty officer who'd been awake at the time. Sally, Robert and I realised the damage had been too sudden for the computer to kick to the secondary core, so Sally and I prepared to manually boot it while Robert was to stay on bridge to fix what he could here and to be ready for when we got the other online. Corporal Lee offfered to come with us for protection. The medic caught Dave and made him sit still while she ministered to his headwound, while the others prowled the bridge.

The three of us made our way through the ship, hearing strange clangs and bangs at intervals. As we neared engineering and the secondary core, the banging got louder. Sweet, cheerful Sally called out, assuming (as I did) more survivors. Lee rolled her eyes as she raised her gun.

"Is that your first response to any situation?"

"Of course!" She seemed surprised by my question, and returned to shushing Sally. Telling us to get behind her, she opened the door. I peered over her shoulder, looking for damage, trusting her to spot any danger. She did. A blur whizzed past us - she shoved me backwards as she threw herself out of the way. Poor, naive, sweet Sally stayed in the thing's path. With a scream, she fell. Lee fired a shot at the thing as it ran away, but the stun setting of her energy weapon did nothing. I ran to Sally as Lee whirled to check there were no more in the room.

Whatever the frig that thing was, it'd clawed Sally up pretty badly. I screamed for a medic, but the computer hadn't quite got comms online: up on the bridge, Robert was in the process of rebooting various systems, and it didn't take long for comms to arrive, but mine didn't seem to be working (I thought I'd brought it online when I shouted, but turns out I hadn't remembered exactly how to use it). It wasn't long, at least, before the medic was on her way with Mackenzie and Steel as support.

As we waited, I did my best to keep the blood and guts in Sally with my gaffer tape while Lee filled in the others on the beast, warning that it didn't respond to stun - and there might be others.

There seemed to be others. Halfway to us, Mackenzie stumbled. Steel and Ffion continued on, but he'd twisted his ankle and needed a moment to recover. Which is when he saw a dog sized creature with a  rough, metallic skin. Realising this must be what had inflicted so much damage to Sally, he reacted instinctively: "BAD DOG!"

To his surprise, rather than advancing the creature sat, cocked its head and whined slightly. He watched as it crept forward towards him, body language akin to a scolded dog. It licked the back of his hand and sat again. Over the comms, he let the rest of us know what was happening as the bright blue eyes glowed brighter and brighter and it emitted a whirring noise grow louder and louder, and its mouth opened to reveal, not the row of teeth of a normal dog, but instead a perfectly circular opening. It took his hand within and we heard his screams as the sharp edges took his hand off. The pain shook him back to sense: he raised his gun and fired into it until it fell back and stopped moving. He used the heated gun barrel to cauterise his bleeding stump. 

The medic continued to Sally as Steel swung back to help Mackenzie, arriving at the same time as a cyber-puppy. It sniffed sadly at the corpse of the larger creature, then turned to Mackenzie as he slumped against the wall. Steel shot it as it approached him, but the beam of his weapon (on the setting above stun) reflected back off the creature's shiny, metallic hide and hit Steel, who fell peeing and convulsing to the floor. Mackenzie shot the puppy and warned to use solid rounds only as the medic reached us.

Sally's breathing had been getting more laboured. She'd ripped away a length of the gaffer tape: I'd tried to restrain her, thinking she must be delirious, but her breathing was marginally better afterwards. Something about punctured lungs needing air. I don't know; I fix engines, not people. I know she coughed a lot of blood and gore over me. When the medic arrived I was still hovering, trying to help, so Lee slapped me round the face and reminded me why we were down here. I cleared the gore from me as best I could and turned to the engine, but even as I turned away Sally died with a whimpering death rattle. The medic turned on us, demanding to know how she'd been hit - had she been her usual naive, irritable, friendly self? Once she'd calmed, I finally had a chance to learn her name: Ffion. Lee handed us both assault rifles, including a spare for the medic to take back to Steel as she made to return to Mackenzie while I made a start on rebooting the secondary core.

Things weren't going too well on the bridge. The three there - Dave, Robert and Robby - could hear more impacts on the blast shields. Something finally penetrated and all three found themselves in danger of being sucked into space. Robby grabbed Robert and tried pulling him to safety, but when he reached the doors (which the ship had sealed when the breach was detected) and opened them, the new rush of air brought with it a fire extinguisher which knocked him unconscious. Robert managed to grab hold and secure them both, but couldn't move forward: Dave, with his greater strength, soon reached them but knew he could only help one, so let Robby go: he was speared on buckling bulkheads before being ripped through the side as Dave and Robert sealed the doors behind them.

The ship was screaming warnings at us now: hull breaches on several decks, unknown status on all others. Time to get to the escape pods...

They weren't too far from engineering, slightly further from Steel and Ffion, who'd just met up. Steel and I arrived first, maybe 100 yards ahead of Lee with Ffion further behind her. The pods only held three, so I'd have liked the medic to have reached mine rather than ending up with 2 gun bunnies, but at least I got away safely, calling good luck to Ffion as we left.

What I didn't know was that Lee had dodged one of the doggies as she raced down that last corrider - she'd spotted it in a side passage. Just after we departed, it jumped out and dragged Ffion across into the opposite passage, where it licked her face before opening its mouth to eat her.

Dave and Robert armed themselves and found Mackenzie on their way to the pods - he was struggling a bit with the pain, but being pretty badass nonetheless. Dave acted as rear guard while Robert and Mackenzie headed to the next pod - Robert spotted the dog as it turned its attention to them. He hit the door seal button, locking it and its puppies in the side passage and joined Mackenzie in prepping the pod. Dave reached them as they spotted a dog waiting on a chair. He removed his artificial leg and threw it. The dog jumped after it, but was only briefly distracted. Long enough for Mackenzie and Robert to get away, leaving Dave to fight it alone... it pinned him down, licked the hand holding his gun. One chance, he figured, and steeled himself to lose that limb. The perfect hole closed around his arm and he pulled the trigger... and nothing happened. He'd mistimed it: the arm was severed too soon. It howled, and a pair of cyber puppies came slinking to it.

Monday, 28 December 2015

Loot the Tree!


When I was at school, we were occasionally asked which season was our favourite. I couldn't pick, and ended up feeling like this was in some way a flaw on my part. I still can't pick, but no longer feel it's a flaw. All seasons have things about them I love; all have things I enjoy less. And they're joined, they need each other.

One of my favourite things about the winter is the cool weather that has been distinctly absent this year.

Another thing is Christmas. I feel like people who have Christmas (or a similar celebration) in a warm climate must miss out, somehow, but my Australian friends assure me that summertime-Christmas is superior in their eyes, so it's ok. But for me, part of the joy of the celebration is that getting together with family and friends and sharing the long, dark nights and the cold, dark days and filling them with light and warmth.(Although I also know many people who prefer to take Christmas as alone time, to spend with themselves, looking after themselves, and I can understand that too. That way leaves those who have to be alone in the midwinter feeling less lonely than my way.)

Anyway, one of the nice things is the way things become more relaxed at work. In the past, I worked for a company employing lots of contractors, and the office would be filled with bottles of wine and boxes of chocolate from the contractors, to be distributed to the staff for Christmas - a thank you for sending work the way of the contractors, and a lovely perk for us. This year, I'm working in IT rather than proeprty management, but a similar difference in tone descended on the office, aided by one colleague with his Star Wars Lego advent calendar - we had a lot of fun with that.
Spot the interloper...
I was particularly fond of the Jawa/Ewok alliance
Even my local shopping centre looked to be getting in on the act, with what definitely looked like lightsabres hanging from the ceiling.
That's no moon!
I've not seen the new film yet, so would be grateful to avoid spoilers. Our work's Christmas party clashed with the opening night. A few went to the film instead, some left early to catch a late showing. I opted to party - wonderful excuse to wear my favourite dress.

Anyway, the purpose of this post was actually to talk about Christmas. I said last year that I normally go over to my Dad's on Christmas Eve, and we followed that tradition again this year. I got there early and, having forgotten my key, ended up having tea with my old headteacher who lives round the corner - he came to collect a load of logs a few minutes after I arrived. Was really nice to see him again, actually, even if he will always scare me slightly.

Then it was back to my Dad's for real. I'd brought all our presents in my treasure chest (my Dad says it's actually an old boarding school tuckbox, much like the one he used to have), and was pleased to find the returning gifts would also comfortably fit.
Arrivals!
Departures...


Christmas Eve was fun: couple of Wallace and Gromit films before dinner, then Little Sister got us playing a game where we all wrote down the names of 4 people (fictional or otherwise) the others in the room were likely to know, then had one minute to give clues to the person to the left for them to guess as many as possible until the slips of paper ran out - then repeat using charades, then repeat using a single word clue. One pass only, but you could return to it, and we decided you scored points for your guesses and the correct guesses of your clues. Turns out my sister's psychic, because in the first round I was trying to describe Ada Lovelace to her and she hadn't a clue, but in the second round she guessed both Ada Lovelace and General George Patton just from the expression on my face as I read the clues (she's dyslexic, so accusations that she could read the names backwards through pieces of paper with other writing on the back are dubious). I really enjoyed that game - not just because her uncanny ability to read me meant I won. Little Brother then got us to play a round of Saboteur (I was disappointed that there were no shoes), which again Little Sister and I (and Husbit) won by being very successful saboteurs. Then we filled stockings and went to bed.

To add to her awesomeness, Little Sister fishtail-plaited my hair Christmas morning
Christmas morning saw the start of looting gift-giving. Stockings first: we have the rules that items need to be fun, cheap and practical (ie, not go straight in the bin), so I got novelty pants for Little Sister and Step Mum, and coffee/tea for most other people. Little Sister got her husband socks. Lots of socks. A stocking more or less full of socks. Which entertained the rest of us, anyway. Then Little Brother drove off to pick up his new girlfriend, who'd very bravely agreed to spend the day with us when she'd only met Little Sister&Husband before, and we went to the next door neighbour for mulled wine and nibbles and to stay out of Dad's hair as he cooked lunch.

Pleased to report that Little Brother's new girlfriend is really nice. She's smart and has a similar sense of humour to the rest of us, which meant she fitted in well.

I've gone right off turkey recently, so had the veggie option - a nut roast my Step Mum had doctored. Much better choice and will probably be fake veggie again next year (I quite like being fake veggie). Then presents under the tree before Husbit fled to the relative sanity of his family and we continued silly games with mine: I received a game called 'Say Anything', which is a bit like Cards Against Humanity (and would work well in combination with it...), but more child friendly. And eventually I also left for presents with Husbit's family, then home to Kitty and our own tree presents before collapsing asleep to start again on Boxing Day.


We've got some fun plans for New Year and the week after our Pathfinder group will be exchanging secret santa presents to finish the season. By then, hopefully the cold weather will have arrived properly and I can be looking forward to spring.

Wednesday, 16 December 2015

Musical A-Z - X,Y,Z

I found it really hard to finish this. I ended up cheating and looked for bands for X and Y. Any suggestions or recommendations in the comments please.

X
 
When searching for X, I was intrigued by the preview of this article so went and looked up the band and thought they were rather good.

Yggdrasil

I'll admit, it was the name that caught my eye ;-)

Zombina and the Skeletones

Played a gig when I was at uni and they were so much fun - full zombie/skeleton make up and costumes and fake blood. Went down well with the larp'ers! I love this song.

Z Z Top

And I kinda hadta finish with these guys. 

Sunday, 13 December 2015

The Tree Ship

There seems to be a lot floating round about saying 'Yes' as a GM at the moment. I have some opinions on that, but I don't think my opinions are important: you should see what works with your group(s) for that game and go with that. I don't think there's anything wrong with saying no if you need to (or if other members of your group need you to), but amazing things can happen when you say yes. Terrible, amazing things.

We're doing the Star Stone trial at the moment in Pathfinder, which is why my GM has asked I don't write up the sessions until we're back on Golarion (he's doing his own version and I think intends to run it for other people another time, so no spoilers!), but we created something so cool last session I have to tell you about it!

There's two important things that happened in the lead up: we acquired use of an airship and discovered our druid can reduce our transport time dramatically by portalling us through trees. Obvious next step? Get a really big pot, put a tree in it and have that on our airship. And awaken the tree - that can't go wrong, right? We sold it to the GM with the suggestion that the tree - a spruce pine - could grow into the ship, creating something akin to Moya in Farscape or the sea-going ships in Robin Hobb's Liveship Traders trilogy (which I haven't yet read but now really want to). The Star Stone trial can affect the magic, or something. 

We helped the druid, all pouring in mythic chips. As the ritual ended, the tree stretched its limbs, needles extending. The balloon providing lift to the ship popped and for a few heart-stopping seconds we plummeted before the tree had converted enough of the ship and was able to return us to flight. Roots spread, wrapping through the timbers that made the ship - we could see the nutrients being sucked out and into the tree. The clean, worked wood was replaced by a mass of roots. The railings became old, gnarled wood. The trunk of the tree grew tall in place of a mast. A figure head grew from the prow, shuddered and shook, then looked back to us. The needles glowed, shimmering and shivering, as it spoke: "I am Yggdrisil".

Yggdrisil is a sentient airship sorceror (verdant bloodline). It is a magical plant, originally a spruce, so can photosynthesise and gets the rest of its nutrients from a ball of soil stored in the cargo area. It has some fire resistance, the ability to detect magic at will, an insatiable curiosity and a love of flight and freedom. Mental stats are all 18 (we took party averages to reflect the lifeforce we poured in in the form of mythic chips). If it likes you, your cabin will be spacious and accommodating to your needs - as a sorceror, it can use dancing lights to provide your lighting; as a living tree, it can extend part of itself as a shelf. If it doesn't like you, your bed will be gnarled and knotted and you may lose knickknacks you leave lying around. 

I don't know its flight speed, precise spell list or its physical stats, but the imagery is so cool and I'm really excited by this. I'd love to use it in a novel, if I ever manage to focus long enough to write one.


Monday, 7 December 2015

Inspirational People - Lorna Arnold

Today would have been Lorna Arnold's 100th birthday. I'm very sad she isn't here to celebrate it, but I'm still grateful to have known her and it feels right today to talk about my Great-Aunt Lorna. My elder sister recently told me that she knew Lorna wasn't allowed to talk about her work, so always assumed she was a spy! She was a nuclear historian, working alongside Margaret Gowing.


You can find out about her life on her website, wikipedia or in her memoire, so that's not what I want to talk about here. I want to talk about how her life has inspired me: the fact that it wasn't until she was in her mid-40's that she found the career she's famous for. When I was feeling like my life was wasting before, racing away from me, I took strength from remembering that, and that was a huge part of how I had the courage to apply for the job I'm now in. She gave me that strength.

I also want to talk about the last time I saw her, the summer before she died. She lived up in Oxford, and there was an exhibition at the Ashmolean my Dad, step-mum and I wanted to see so it was a good justification to pop in. She wasn't quite ready when we got there, very frail by then, her carer was helping her as we waited. It was weird for me: there was something familiar about the house as we arrived, and as we waited I looked out at the garden and it was exactly as I knew it would be. And Dad remembered that I had been here before when I was very tiny. Strange the things we remember: it was the sunshine in the garden.

When Lorna came down, I was silhouetted against the French windows, which meant despite her now limited vision, she could still see me and commented how tall I was - I was amazed, similarly, by short she seemed. She's one of these people who filled any room she was in, so it seems strange that she was so little. We ate cake and drank tea and talked about the world and the way it's shaped. She commanded a room when she spoke, and she spoke so articulately and intelligently. And you know what, she made me feel invincible in her calm, made me feel like I could achieve anything, and I needed that at that moment. My depression started to lift for the first time after that visit.




Sunday, 6 December 2015

Musical A-Z - W

Wagner

This is the first piece of classical music I got into. Very dramatic piece of music.

Wheatus

I don't know anything else by Wheatus, but I've always enjoyed this song.

Wheezer

This is the deeper this week. Many, many years ago, I went to Reading Festival with some school friends. The mother of one drove us up: she was volunteering at the festival for a mental health charity. The others in the car thought that was stupid, they couldn't understand why people would need counselling at a festival. I was just coming to terms with my Depression diagnosis (and it was going to get a lot worse before it started to get better) and what she said next was so powerful for me: sometimes, people feel sad in places where they feel like they should feel happy, and are surrounded by people who feel happy, and it becomes much harder to bear. And that first day of the festival, my depression kicked in and I felt so lonely and if she hadn't spoken before I'd have felt even worse. Wheezer were the last act I watched that day, the only one I came close to enjoying, but I managed to find a way through and enjoyed the next 2 days. Hearing Wheezer always reminds me I'm not alone in the ways depression can beat me around.

White Zombie

Feels a bit of a cheat to include White Zombie when I've already included Rob Zombie, but I really like this song.
 
The Who

Again, I just like this song.