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And Back Down To Reality Again
Oct. 18th, 2006 11:17 pmI have Brassy's Fever!
Or, to be more precise, I have Brassy's Slightly Elevated Temperature. Also, Brassy's Stuffy Nose, sore throat, sneezles, and red eyes.
I have an unnatural fear that a demented Englishman with odd sunglasses is going to turn me into a mad brain in a jar for my own good.....
Yes, I somehow managed to pick up the Creeping Crud that was circulating among players at Brassy's Men last weekend. I have no idea how, since all I did was spend the weekend getting in people's faces as often as possible. On the other hand, the game was amazing enough to be worth every moment of ickiness afterwards. I think both the GM's and I finally got a strong and clear idea of who my character was and what she wanted to do, and were able to set about it with a vengeance. I stumped and politicked and traded favors, I managed to get involved in the funniest combat I've ever experienced, my romantic plot survived a no-holds-barred attempt at Jossing it, and the classic rule that "It's not a game until someone makes Becky cry" was finally re-invoked.
Now all I have to do is utterly shake this cold before OVFF next weekend, and everything will be perfect. Though I do need to remember that when my coworkers asked me what I did last weekend, they do not want to hear that I saved England from Certain Doom with the help of a Danish ambassador and an extremely large wrench; they would be much happier if I just said 'nothing much, really.'
Their loss.
Or, to be more precise, I have Brassy's Slightly Elevated Temperature. Also, Brassy's Stuffy Nose, sore throat, sneezles, and red eyes.
I have an unnatural fear that a demented Englishman with odd sunglasses is going to turn me into a mad brain in a jar for my own good.....
Yes, I somehow managed to pick up the Creeping Crud that was circulating among players at Brassy's Men last weekend. I have no idea how, since all I did was spend the weekend getting in people's faces as often as possible. On the other hand, the game was amazing enough to be worth every moment of ickiness afterwards. I think both the GM's and I finally got a strong and clear idea of who my character was and what she wanted to do, and were able to set about it with a vengeance. I stumped and politicked and traded favors, I managed to get involved in the funniest combat I've ever experienced, my romantic plot survived a no-holds-barred attempt at Jossing it, and the classic rule that "It's not a game until someone makes Becky cry" was finally re-invoked.
Now all I have to do is utterly shake this cold before OVFF next weekend, and everything will be perfect. Though I do need to remember that when my coworkers asked me what I did last weekend, they do not want to hear that I saved England from Certain Doom with the help of a Danish ambassador and an extremely large wrench; they would be much happier if I just said 'nothing much, really.'
Their loss.
