Played Murderous Ghosts: The 2017 Halloween Party edition tonight, and it rocked.
It feels just like the one-on-one game, except the non-MC players share control of the lone explorer.
The hook is the you're an urban explorer in an abandoned mansion, and inside that mansion are ghosts that want to murder you.
4. You reach someone else's mind, who is near you at that future time. It may or may not be evident to you whose mind you reach.
5. You and your future self swap consciousness. You carry on from that future time, and your future self is doomed to repeat the intervening hour from now on.
And in big letters:
ELLIOT DOES NOT APPROVE THIS SPELL.
A spell found in an old notebook:
You extend a plasmic tendril into your own mind, an hour into the future. You may ask the GM one question and, if you like, one or two followup questions. The GM must answer them truthfully from the point of view of your future self.
1. You may ask one question, but no followup questions.
2. Your future self is disoriented by your contact and query, and must regather themself.
3. You reach yourself 10 minutes hence, not an hour hence.
I know that as I grew up, whenever I'd do something that my dad didn't understand or agree with - which was often, and more often the older I got - he'd think about this. He'd take it as perspective on my choices and it would help him accept them.
Now he's gone and it's one of my prayers: may this be true of me.
Before I was born, my dad had a dream about me.
I was grown. I was sitting on a rock in the sunshine, reading a book and eating an apple.
A mule walked by, pulling a plow. There was no one working them.
I'd never seen a plow. I watched the mule go. I watched the plow bounce and drag on the ground behind it. I watched for a long time, my dad said. I watched until I understood.
Then I set my book aside, righted the plow, put my weight to it, and got to work.
Hey, over on the King Is Dead Kickstarter, we're previewing a couple of the complete minigames. If you've been curious, check it out!
I hate everyone and everything from now on with the pure and exhausted hate of a self-employed small business owner who's filed their taxes with only 2 hours left on the clock.
I feel like screaming, throwing up, and bursting into tears. Instead I'll go calmly help get my kids to bed.
Nighty night, friends.
Game designer and crank. He/him.
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