Jig

Are Co-GMs Useful?

I was once a co-GM in an RP with a billion characters and players and was pretty helpful (I think) since the GM couldn't get on as frequently as a GM normally has to. While I didn't strictly 'do' anything, I was basically the real GM's prophet, interpreting his will and giving it as semi-official suggestions to players, especially those admitting sheets late, indicating whether they'd be likely to be accepted or whether their sheet might need revision.

On the whole, I think a co-GM is a situational role depending on the needs of the RP. Most RPs probably don't need them, but where the GM is otherwise occupied, or needs help bumping the story along, co-GM's do have their uses.

The Bureau of Unconventional Crime

I have my cast off, and so access to both hands again. Normal service should resume shortly.

Woll Manor

corneredbliss said Sidebar; I'll be describing NPCs and making a (crappily drawn) map of the Manor when the group arrives there, so that'll be in my OP most likely after this limo scene.

If you like, I can Photoshop a neat (but basic) map together based on what you draw, using the combined powers of both of my hands.

Woll Manor

I HAVE BOTH HANDS I HAVE BOTH HANDS I HAVE BOTH HANDS I HAVE BOTH HANDS

My cast is already off and my arm's a useless jellified piece of nothing with some metal somewhere in it but MY HANDS ARE BACK. TYPING IS GO.

Tl;dr version: I have both hands.

Woll Manor

In a normal murder mystery, Henry would totally be the first victim.

AuntFlavia said Normally people get stuck with one liners for posts. One idea would be, if it were a conversation between 2 characters, the players could work it out in a pm, write their lines back and forth.

RPG's mibbit chatroom is pretty good for this, especially for more than two parties. Crucial thing is only to do this with dialogue; body text should be written from only one character's perspective.

AuntFlavia said
One thing we could discuss about our characters is their appearance. I don't think that would be revealing too much about them, and it might help our posts in general to know what everyone else looks like.

Benji typically looks like a bit of a modern hippie with loose clothing and such but I think I detailed in the post. He probably has some earrings that didn't occur to me as I was writing, but I think a long spiky one in one ear and a stretcher in t'other.

Notorious said
No. Not even remotely xD.

I could tell. Something about the way you used the word 'quid' once didn't click. Otherwise got away with it. :P
Since people can tell whereabouts most people come from on accent alone in the UK and James and Benji should be able to clock the other from speech, Benji is from the West Country - farmer land. Kind of like the UK equivalent of the deep South I guess, but not considered as ridiculous. Where's James from?

Woll Manor

In my head this RP is group therapy for people to project their shit lives on avatars and make them suffer instead.

Notorious said When Benji says "Are we all English," does he literally mean English as in British? Or just English speaking? For that matter, where are all our characters from?

Up to your characters' interpretations :)

PS: I'm willing to bet you aren't British. xD

Woll Manor

Benji had decided not to tell his family or friends what he was doing. He could only imagine their dumbfounded expressions if he explained that he had received money and plane tickets from a stranger and was actually going to use them. Instead, he'd told them vaguely that he was going on a vague camping retreat type thing and changed the subject if they pressed the issue. Not many had. Camping retreat type things weren't an uncommon feature in Benji's life. Luxurious holidays abroad didn't really suit his lifestyle or, rather, his income. Camping was technically free once you'd got hold of a tent.

That said, he didn't look like the arty vagabond cliche he'd carved out for himself as he handed his first-class ticket to the red-lipped stewardess. Light fabrics, faded from former gaudy colours were traded for subtle pinstripes and leather shoes. He'd half-heartedly looked at a tie, for the first time since his aunt's funeral, before deciding he might as well do it properly and thrust the thing around his neck. He'd even had his blonde hair very lightly trimmed, and while it was still very shaggy, it now looked more like an artistic decision rather than the triumphant haystack of yesterday's negligence. The only thing that let down the costume of a young, trendy businessman was his choice of luggage. He could think of no honest reason to buy new luggage when he had a decent satchel in decent nick and a rucksack in camouflage print. It was probably army surplus, but he didn't know; he'd literally found the thing in a hedge a few years ago. They were safely in the luggage hold now.

He stretched as he sat down, leaning backwards and wriggling. Then his jacket was uncomfortable and so the same red-lipped stewardess took it from him. She looked at him very closely before offering him a drink. That was the thing about first class. It wasn't the legroom. It wasn't the less contemptuous staff. It was the free drinks. He accepted the (disappointingly small) glass of lager with a smile. It would be rude to decline. And foolish. You never turned down a freebie. And this was the biggest freebie of all. Benji yawned and stretched again as the plane began to take off.

He was on his fourth glass by the time the plane inserted itself into the particularly fluffy bowels of a cloud, and nodded off shortly afterward.

---

The arrival lounge was like any other, he supposed. It was full of foreign. Intuition dictated that this particular brand of foreign was probably Swedish, but it could be French for all he knew. He couldn't read the posters in whatever foreign language they were written in, so it didn't matter which one. Then again, English words did creep in, in particularly amusing ways; hurdy-gurdy hurdy-gurdy hurdy-chocolatey hurdy-gurdy-gur. The novelty was short-lived, though, as he, sick of waiting for his luggage to arrive on the carousel - when every other passenger had collected theirs - sat heavily on the luggage trolley, still groggy from his flight-long snooze. He put his head in his hands and, after a moment, drifted off again.

---

"Excuse me, sir," A voice from nowhere. Whatever.

"Sir?" A hand shook Benji gently at the shoulder. He spluttered awake, "Excuse me, sir. You are Benjamin Rainsford?"

"That would be me," He said, groggily. He wasn't very good at mornings. Was it morning? Still counted.

"I am your driver," He certainly was; as Benji's vision came into focus he could make out an almost comically over-dressed middle-aged man with a hat and gloves straight out of a costume shop. They shook hands on Benji's initiation; the driver's hand was stiff and reluctant, "And your luggage is in the limousine. If you'd follow me."

Still a little bleary-eyed, he followed the driver to a swanky-looking limo outside. If this was a scam, they'd put the effort in. He was awkwardly bowed inside and invited to help himself to the minibar. He didn't feel anything. As his arrival killed the conversation and all eyes turned on him, he smiled, "I'm Benji. I'm guessing we're all English?"

Woll Manor

I'm going to give it another go now. Might take me less time because I'm doing a bit better now and I already know the content. :)

Have fun!

Woll Manor

Could cry. Wrote my post into the reply box and my internet crashed and ate it. Literally took me two two-hour shifts. AARGH.

At least it's keeping me occupied.

Woll Manor

Yeah, I basically got my arm sorted then stormed out of the hospital because they were so useless as to be detrimental to my health and well-being in terms of general recovery care. I'm basically fine, just unwieldy and in pain. It's a pain in the arse but it could be much worse.

I'll try to sit down and post now but typing is really tedious atm so I might have to do it in shifts.