In Eclipse Phase, we went to Mars and encountered both flying piranhas and tweetfish. Do you know what happens when a whole tank full of tweetfish simultaneously panic and tweet that they want their water changed? Read and find out. Maybe.
“Tomorrow’s September 11, so …”
“What about it?” (tumbleweed) “… Oh …”
“Can I have a space octopus morph?”
“Not for this game.”
“You die every session.”
“That’s not true.”
“Your MORPH dies every session.”
GM: “You want to catch up or do any roleplaying part of the roleplaying?”
“I’m gonna act like Peter Petrelli and annoy everyone.”
“Which season?”
“EVERY season! He’s a twat!”
“Enough of the Heroes bashing, because a) I like it and b) it’s not relevant.”
GM: “It smells like something’s died in the beer can.”
Player: “I pour it out.”
“Are those cigar things better or worse than this?”
“Oh, WAY better.”
“And that’s YOUR opinion, is it?”
GM: “We’re nowhere near the plot and we’ve been playing for an hour and a half so far.”
Player: “Are we there yet?”
“Martian beer is like Hypercorps. It kind of grows on you.”
“Not having a profile is like not having Facebook. We have to actually GO TO C and say we’re going out because he doesn’t have Facebook.”
GM: “I’m willing to give clues, but all your dice rolls are AWFUL!”
“That’s a great scam; mugging the same people over and over. Just make sure they forget all about it in between.”
“Before we board the train, I want nothing to do with mechanical ants, injuns or barf zombies this time.”
GM: “Anyone else want to do something on the train?”
Player: “I’ll complain about the dry sandwiches that are way over-priced.”
NPC: “You want cold? I sell flu.”
“Be glad it’s not tweetfish.”
“Tweetfish?”
“They tweet you when their water needs changing.”
Player: “I fail.”
GM: “By how much?”
Player: “12.”
GM: “Hello tweetfish.”
“Madness? This. Is. MARS!”
“Sean gets names wrong all the time. It’s a bit like having your grandfather along.”
“Curse physics in our hard sci-fi-based game with its space piranhas and tweetbirds!”
“TweetFISH! They’re not birds; that would be silly!”
“I’d love for my character never to find out he broke both fish tanks.”
“You mean that for once before dying I DIDN’T do anything stupid? That’s a first.”
“Tell me, where is Nero? For I much desire to speak with him.”
“The Balrog of Morgoth.”
(Everyone's putting their weapons down)
Squirrel-morph: “I’m putting everything I’ve got.”
GM: “Fruit, nuts, picture of David Hasselhoff …”
GM: “There are pigs sitting upright playing poker.”
Player 1: “You replaced dogs with pigs playing poker?”
Player 2: “Are they long-pigs?”
GM: “Let’s not start that again.”
“If he’s not heard of the Weave …”
“Then he’s not read Clive Barker.”
“If we’re trapped in space and run out of food, we know who gets eaten first. The guys who taste of sausages.”
“Sounds like a job for Survivalist Man!”
Player 1: “You didn’t die!”
Sean: “Woohoo!!!”
Player 2: “Quick, give me a gun!”
GM: “Make me a climb check.”
Sean: “You bastard. 99.”
GM: “Pliskin dies on the way down.”
Player 3: “Does he land in the tweetfish tank?”
“The narrative must be appeased.”
“I hate to say that it’s not much of a plan, but it’s a plan and it’s the only plan we’ve got.”
“I’m missing the plot! …OMG, are we letting these two plot?!”
“We sent them there to die, not to win!”
Player: “Are any of them short, 20-year-old brunette girls?”
GM: “Some of them are shorter …?”
GM: “If you are casually strolling, looters are running past you.”
“He’s batshit mental, we don’t know why we sent him.”
“He didn’t ask how much gold for the information, so we just said ‘we’ll give you MANY gold’.”
Player: “We didn’t kill babies!”
GM: “You blew a LOT of stuff up!”
Player: “Anyone who keeps babies in decrepit old warehouses deserves being blown up!”
“Believe what we believe in or we cut your head off.”
“So you’re Catholic, then?”
GM: “At the moment, there’s him, the lord and the looters who are coming and don’t know who to kill, so they’ll go for both.”
Player: “Excellent, I like this death.”
Player: “Where’s the nearest exit?”
GM: “As far as you’re concerned, it’s the big-ass door behind the looters.”
GM: “If he dies at any point, the deal’s off. And then you can renegotiate a better deal.”
Player: “Which might be a good idea.”
“I make my own sins and redeem them, that’s my title: Redeemer of Self-Sins.”
GM: “Now that they’ve thought about it, they realise they’re quite irate about it.”
“How sacrilegious is violence in a temple?”
“Depends on the god.”
GM: “If he’s killed, you can renegotiate the deal.”
Player 1: “Starts edging around behind him.”
Player 2: “A GM encouraging party violence? Tut.”
“Blackmailing a deity? I like it.”
“Stop negotiating!”
“I’m being honest!”
“There’s some English in there somewhere.”
“Good, because if you told us of the one we already know about, that would be annoying.”
“I’m not UNstealthy … I didn’t botch.”
“We know this city quite well. We’ve walked around it … the first time, fucking it up.”
“The Mad Knight of Primrose could be a great NPC in a future game.”
“It sounded like we had a Yorkshire terrier choking on fluff in the corner.”
“If I make a bang loud enough to distract them, they won’t raise the alarm.”
“The hat makes me look civilised, because the Fae told me so.”
“I now have sunglasses and a hat.”
“And a loincloth.”
“The demon can just sit there drumming its tentacles on the floor and wait.”
“I fought the store and the store won.”
“No, I fought the store and kicked the store’s ass!”
Eclipse Phase is to be continued at ChimeraCon 6, and this particular storyline potentially concluded - before it gets even more bizarre.
