John (ooc): So, according to the Guide to the Traditions, George is a mage. Any truth in that, Perry?
Perry (ooc): I'm hardly qualified to say. The only Mage book I've read is the core, and that was a couple of years ago. I've certainly never seen him throw any fireballs, though he can produce quite a stiff breeze, if you get a couple pints in him.
Sam (ooc): Actually, it just says his works help define the idea of a Byronic hero. It doesn't flat-out state that he is a mage. The mages at the beginning of the 19th century had to be discreet, given that the Technocracy was basically hunting them down systematically. The mages had an influence over events, but they worked in subtle ways.
Bill (ooc): Mind magic of the subtlest kind - emotional auras and resonances.
Sam (ooc): Exactly. When they even bothered risking magic at all. They didn't have to, if they played smart.
John (ooc): How does that work? If they went preaching Tradition to the Sleepers, the MIBs would catch on pretty quickly, and if they didn't defend their paradigms, wouldn't the consensus just become whatever the Techs wanted it to be?
Sam (ooc): Doubts spring up like weeds. It takes a thousand experiments to prove a fact, but it only takes one exception to debunk it. You don't even have to prove it wrong beyond denial. You just have to sow doubts strong enough to make it possible to deny the technocratic paradigm.
Bill (ooc): No Paradox. No way of detecting that you're a mage.
Mary (ooc): That still makes you a thorn in the side of the Technocracy, though. They don't just snuff mages. Anyone annoying enough to them is fair game, especially if you won't be missed. So, you attract a lot of attention to yourself by mundane means and build up a large following of people who will miss you if you suddenly disappear. Create something attractive that people can believe in. If they are interested enough, they might adopt your paradigm as their own in the event that they Awaken. If that happens, they might actually seek you out as a mentor.
Perry (ooc): On second thought, maybe George is a mage after all...
Bill (ooc): You could also stage hoaxes. Even if they're disproved later, people might not remember that they were debunked. Get enough of them, and even if the Techs debunk them, people might begin to suspect a conspiracy to cover up the truth about the hoaxes.
John (ooc): Those are more like coping mechanisms than a way of overthrowing the Technocratic control of the consensus.
Sam (ooc): Perhaps fantasy is the answer. In the Dark Ages, magic was real. Monsters were real. Gods were real. What is now dismissed as myth was the history of those people. What would happen if an author picked up a copy of Beowulf, translated it, and modernized it so it appealed to a large number of the Sleepers, especially ever-impressionable children and young adults? Then, he writes a sequel to that story that is so different from anything already in existance that millions of people read those books voraciously.
John (ooc): They'd dismiss it as fiction, of course. And the children would eventually outgrow the stories.
Sam (ooc): Yes, but let's assume that it becomes a phenomenon. People pick apart every word of those two books the fantasist wrote and then attempt to recreate the world of the story. Other writers imitate the author because they want to expand the world and expound upon the ideas that author created. Not everyone has the talent or patience for novel writing.
Mary (ooc): Cowards.
Sam (ooc): They don't just want to hear stories about the characters, though. They want to *be* the characters. They want to live in the imaginary world. So they find ways to do just that. Demand feeds supply, and the Technocracy stands helpless as Sleepers become increasingly enamored with this magical world.
John (ooc): All this, of course, assumes a writer good enough to produce such an unheard of interest in the occult.
Sam (ooc): He doesn't have to be a great writer. He just needs to be fresh, and he needs to arrive on the scene at the right time.
John (ooc): Entropy.
Bill (ooc): For starters. You'd literally have to arrange to be born at the right time, in the right place, and with the right predispositions. Then your Avatar would have to be able to remind you of your last incarnation's bright idea.
John (ooc): Yes, but what does this have to do with altering the consensus? And what would Sleepers come up with to live out a fantasy of the sort you're describing?
Sam (ooc): I don't know, but anything that can be believed is an image of truth, right Bill?
Bill (ooc): Words of hellish wisdom, to be sure. Where did George go with my tea?
George (ooc): Right here, Bill. I was waylaid.
Bill (ooc): Fair maiden?
George (ooc): Shots. I'm still good, though.
Bill (ooc, shaking his head): Things are about to get very silly, aren't they?
Perry (ooc): Camelot springs to mind.
Fanny (ooc): Byronic, isn't it?
George: When your bones realign themselves, you are in a strange place, surrounded by randomly-staggered columns. It smells funny, and the ground is slightly soft. It is dark. There could be grues here.
Fanny: Happy pills all around. And I make sure they take them.
Perry: "We need a source of light, dispel the dark. I think I hear a grue out there, so spark."
Mary (ooc): Fine by me, as long as they eat Poet Man, here, first...
Bill: Jim shines his flashlight out in the darkness.
George: You get a glimpse of green and brown. Then a swarm of flying black moths covers your flashlight, blotting out all light.
John: "Allow me." Red puts on his safety goggles and washes the surrounding area with plasma from his hands.
Mary (ooc): Oh, that's going to make the elves of Mirkwood really happy.
John (ooc): We'll just tell them that a dragon did it.
Bill (ooc): Except, of course, none of us knows what a dragon is.
John (ooc): Then we'll just burn them, too.
Bill (ooc): I have a feeling there won't be many natives left to convert, by the time we're through.
Fanny (ooc): I have a feeling, could be bunnies.
George: The cyborg lights up the forest rather nicely, reducing centuries-old trees to ash in a matter of seconds and starting a blaze that begins to sweep through the summer-dry woods.
John (ooc): What about the grues?
George (ooc): I was just kidding about the commie, mutant grues. You can't say "it's dark" without saying something about grues, after all.
Perry: "At least we have some light to show the way, which is what we most needed anyway."
George: Oh, John, that plasma hurt your hands a lot when you fired it. You think it might be a bad idea to spray it into a strong breeze.
John (ooc): Thanks for the warning.
Bill (ooc): Try to resist the urge to write the words "You're next" in fiery letters a mile wide and only visible from the air...
Bill: Getting all of this on tape. "See the brown and green things burn? Here's a lesson you can learn: Organic substance cannot beat the fury of plasmatic heat. So if you see some commie scum, don't look blue and don't look glum. Set his hair and flesh alight. Make his skeleton burn bright. Ash cannot betray our Friend. The commie's evil's at an end. Atomize the mutant crud. Vaporize his mutant blood. You need not fear the dark or grue. The Computer is protecting you."
Sam (ooc): Someone take away Bill's tea before his poetry gland explodes.
George: Out of the flames steps a figure dressed in grey robes. He has a floppy hat and a staff.
Fanny: What manner of man are you that can survive plasma without tank armor or asbestos?
George: He says a bunch of things in a language you don't recognize.
Sam: Brain pulls out the translator. What is he saying?
George: He says, "I am a wizard. Fire holds no fear for me. Your presence in my forest is disruptive. I suggest you return from whence you came lest you bring the wrath of a wizard and his allies upon you."
Sam: Brain types out, "We come in peace as missionaries and emissaries of the Computer. My name is Brain."
George (as wizard): "I am Saelic. My companions are Annabelle, Lindley, Taetia, and Sardis. Are you missionaries of the Balrog? If you do not return to the condemned plane that spawned you, we will be forced to destroy you."
Sam: Brain relays this information to the others.
Perry: Turning on the shield generator.
Mary: Radley takes that as a subtle hint that our leader thinks this is a commie who must therefore be destroyed and takes a swing at Saelic with his claws. 14. A miss.
George: Saelic dodges the attack easily and then runs away like a petbot being chased by a child with a gauss gun.
Bill: Setting the multi-rifle to stun and opening fire. A prisoner might be useful. 3 - a hit.
George (rolling a die): Saelic collapses to the ground.
Perry: Any sign of his companions?
George: Just the dagger in Red's back. What kind of armor do you have against impact?
John: Um, none.
George: This particular knife seems to be especially well-placed. It instantly kills you.
John: Who stabbed me and how did he get behind us?
George: It appears to be a cross between a woman and a feline. She seems to have just come out of nowhere. Mark off one from each of your stats.
Bill (ooc): Look on the bright side, John. At least you can't say your teammates were the ones who stabbed you in the back.
John (ooc): Yet.
Perry whistles innocently.
Fanny: Definitely a mutant. "Die, commie mutant scum!" Opening fire with my laser. 13. Um, no.
George: The beam slices well wide of the mutant feline. A balding man without a shirt runs to Saelic's side. He's covered in star-shaped scars - like tatoos for a total masochist, except without the ink.
Sam (ooc): That's something you don't see every day...
George: This woman dressed in golden armor and carrying a very, very long knife comes steps out from behind a tree. She has pointed ears. She says something.
Sam: Brain checks the translator.
George: Strangely, she seems to be saying, "What size pants do you wear? 34, 36?” But she's saying in a very threatening manner.
Sam: Brain blinks and types in, "My overalls are one-size-fits-all. Why do you ask?"
George: Her sword's blade glows red until it looks like a beam of cohesive light, and she attacks you.
Sam (ooc): Doh. Force sword.
George: She cuts off your head. Mark off another point from your stats. She then shouts something. Though no one can see it, the translator interprets it as "Look at this mess! LOOK at this MESS!" Pointer, you feel something gnawing on your leg through the shield. It appears to be a child with iron teeth, growling something in her strange language.
Perry: Pointier sighs and casually shoots her in the head with his laser pistol at point blank range. Do I even need to roll?
George: Just for the malfunction chance.
Perry: Great. Why yes, I did roll a 20.
George: The forcefield must be interfering with your laser. It sparks briefly, but nothing happens. Next round. Everyone who is dead is alive this round. Saelic is up and about, now.
Bill (ooc): I take it tattoo man is the cleric, the cat woman is a rogue, the child is a halfling barbarian, and the golden woman is a paladin. That would make Saelic the wizard.
George: And that lizard in the sky?
Bill (ooc): What lizard? You didn't say anything about a lizard.
George: Well, I meant to.
John (ooc): Is it a dragon?
George: Your characters wouldn't know.
John (ooc): No, but we would. It'll save you the clever and deceptive description.
George: It's a giant lizard with huge claws and wings. There's smoke coming out of its snout.
John (ooc): Definitely a dragon.
George: Saelic shouts something to his companions, who flee your immediate vicinity with all haste. The dragon breathes on you. You all die. Mark off another point of your attributes.
Sam (ooc): What happens when you hit 0?
George: why? Are you at 0?
Sam (ooc): Not yet, but I'm close. I couldn't fast talk a small child, right now.
George: Then you don't know...
Bill: Jim sets his rifle on kill and shoots at the dragon. 4 is a hit. What's it armor like?
George: What did you roll on the damage?
Bill: A 20.
George: The laser beam bounces off its scaly hide.
Sam: Red fires his plasma generator. 14 does not hit.
George: You manage not to burn yourself, this time.
Perry: Unjamming my laser. Not even close.
Mary: Firing the railgun. Aw shit.
George: 20?
Mary: Yes.
George: The front barrel jams, but the rear one fires just fine. You break your neck as the railgun launches you into orbit. You come back to life just in time to asphyxiate in the vaccuum of space. You come back to life just in time to die as you slam into the side of HALO. You come back to life again just in time to asphyxiate in the vaccuum of space. You come to life again just in time to burn up on re-entry. You come back to life again just in time do die on impact with the ground.
Mary (ooc): Pent up anger, much, George?
Sam: Brain calls out, "Yum, hold your fire. I'm going to see if I can find a weakness in its defenses."
Fanny: "Okay!" Readying a tranquilizer.
Sam: Using the personal Computer to find a weakness.
George: Computer Use.
Sam: 9. Yes.
George: That'll do. You find a small hole in its armor.
Sam: Pointing it out to Yum.
Fanny: Firing the tranquilizer.
John (ooc): Holy...nice one, Fanny.
Fanny: 1.
George: Radley lands next to you. The tranquilizer dart hits the dragon. It flaps its wings once. Radley comes to life. The dragon lands on all of you, killing everyone instantly. Those of you with a 0 in an attribute stop coming back to life.
Mary (ooc): That would be me.
Sam (ooc): I'm down to 1.
Bill (ooc): 2, here.
John (ooc): Yup.
Fanny (ooc): I have a few more points of Strength left.
Perry (ooc): 2, here, too.
George (ooc): Let's take a break. Then we'll finish off the game.
Mary (ooc): Whatever. Hey Bill, want to play Magic?
Bill (ooc): Sure.
George Gordon, Lord Byron (George) - GM
William Blake (Bill) plays chief engineer and posterity officer Jim-Y-BND
Mary Shelley (Mary) plays bot relations officer and pilot Radley-Y-BOO
Percy Bysshe Shelley (Perry) plays team leader Pointier-B-OSS
John Keats (John) plays cyborg and weapons specialist Red-Y-GUN
Fanny Brawne (Fanny) plays happiness officer and medic Yum-Y-PIL
Samuel Coleridge (Sam) plays science and communications officer Brain-Y-GUY