Why is it, that the more effort I put into developing a character, the more likely it is that said character will be crushed, mangled, scalded in Black Dragon bile or sat on by Great Cthulhu?
I won’t go into all the reason; some personal, some technical, some fiscal but there hasn’t been much movement on the whole Burning Car Press front of recent. To be honest, everything has pretty much come to a grinding halt, for which I can but apologise. Life as they say, gets very much in the way of our best laid plans. The good news, as I’m sure you will have by now guessed, is that there is once again motion. Victory, my poisoned children of time, is within our grasp.
The site is up. The TOPTA lite rules are available and a scenario will soon be available too. Due in part to the change in the weather, Witches and Heros and The Big E, have also begun to lurch, spastic to a table top near you. And plans are afoot, from the besieged play testers of Worthing for a blitzkrieg to the soothing and melancholic mountains of southern Wales for PWOD 3. Yes, like poorly prepared beef tartare, the Porthcawl Weekend of Death is to repeat upon us. Time Agent Teackle, J is, as we speak, on the red phone (THE RED PHONE!!) to a bemused Welsh Milk Maid, negotiating landing rights for our crystal ships and for cattle upon which to experiment.
So rejoice. In 15 billion years, there’ll be no one to hear the laughter.
or Why Every C**t looks like Ringo Starr
And so as the stars fall in on themselves and time its’ self fractures and becomes a myriad of disparate, unequal shifting events; the cosmological version of Alzheimer’s disease, something continues where nothing should continue. A hundred thousand engines burn white, propelling the last city of man outward and away from the crushing chaos where even poor Azathoth must meet his blind senseless destruction. “Worthing ! Worthing ! Worthing !” The last city of human kind, the glowing beauty of earth’s children, the summation of all that was once good and noble; ploughs through the frozen empty smile at the end of time, a pin prick of light in the nothing that is becoming. Worthing with it’s vast inversion energy generator (I. E. G. ) always in balance, always in tune; creating the force bubble that surrounds and protects it in the long slumber, protects the pyramids of gold and the silver spires, the libraries, the museums, the bordellos, the torture gardens, the Chemical Insanity Churches and the gravity freeze banks where the dreamers are stored; but not to dream.
Imagine being thrown naked into liquid Nitrogen while immense gravitational forces are brought to bear and fold the point of your existence into a never ending loop. Imagine the blackness that follows, imagine that death that is not death, imagine sleeping for ten million years without a flickr of thought. Imagine your brain sending a signal to your arm to shield your face and by the time all of human history has begun, evolved and ended; you’ve shielded your face.
And so this is where, technically at least, it all goes wrong.
(above) Observation Bunker 33A
Well, time, it’s a tricky bastard. Some say its’ alive, a conscious entity, and we’re like the bugs and microbe that infest our own bodies; clearly some people are twats. Others that time is like a pond freezing over; that we can only see the edge where we stand above the water and that under the ice in the dark, black void beneath our feet, things flounder, entities that should never be; swim and search for weakness, and when they find fracture in the ice they break through. No one is really sure. What they are sure of is that while everyone was dead but not dead, while a billion stars screamed and died, something moved through the impenetrable force wall entered Worthing from Observation Bunker 33A, ejected all the pre-designed body moulds for the dreamers to awake in, wiped the history files from the computers, and blew most of the city including the museum of DNA. Which most people from the future consider a bit of a pisser to be honest.
So why Ringo Starr ?
This really takes us back to computers and machines and choices. Some would say a bad choice.
With no templates or DNA left from which to construct new bodies the computers set about looking for any DNA they could find. They searched every where and eventually after a couple of thousand years they found some. The last DNA vestige of an entire people and their long and troubled history. In the museum of “Pop” music, donated by a besotted groupie, a bummed dog end of a joint, dropped on the floor of a recording studio: The Sunset Studio and producers workshop in Los Angeles in the summer of 1974. The Album being recorded was “Goodnight Vienna”. Recorded by Ringo Starr. And so, with the only genetic variance being that of gender, the computers set about building the replacement bodies for the dreamers that do not dream; and when they awoke from their artificial death, they wished it hadn’t been so artificial after all.
As you may have seen in the tweet I sent this morning I’ve postponed the launch of the Burning Car Press Web site. The first reason is that I’m having issue with email for the site. A technical issue that I’m hoping will be resolved by the end of the week. The second was that due to illness, Friday’s play test of the TOPTA – Lite rules has had to be postponed until next Friday. It’s my intention to have some product for the site, so with out TOPTA-Lite the site would be a little empty.
The silver lining is that with luck and crossed fingers, the “Ringo” dice will be available. Yes, you heard it here – “Ringo- dice”
tune in and TOPTA out
until the BCP web site goes live. It’s looking good. Perhaps a little sparse, but we will be opening with the Lite-TOPTA rules and a fun competition scenario.
For those of you who are currently following I need you to spread the word, like the pages, post links on all your social networks that type of thing. Also would anybody be up for coming up to Wales for a chance to have a play and get videoed? It would have to be the weekend of the 13th of April or the 18th. It wouldn’t be like the Weekends of Death, this would be wham, bam, thank you TOPTA. Short notice I know, but it’d be a larf. Lol.
As for a proper organised weekend of death; the sooner the better. Suggestions on an email to : email@example.com
Love and Rockets
Had a very productive meeting with Stacey regarding the TOPTA rules last Thursday. The upshot of which is that the TOPTA – LIGHT rules and a mini scenario (The AA batteries of the Gods) for 4-5 players is nearer completion. Once this complete, the plan is to:
So watch this space. Sooner, rather than later, you’re going to be drinking Tequila and running around someone’s living looking like a demented Walrus on crystal meths!!
Love and Rockets to thoses that follow
The main principle of the TOPTA system GOYA (Get Off Your Arse system) is that most basic actions can be performed by quick mime rather than slowing the game down by introducing a load of superfluous dice rolling, however….
There are occasion when dice are needed, mainly for two reasons
Yes, TOPTA is crawling from the crashed space craft into the frozen tundra once again, with a Welsh Christmas play test in the pipeline and as yet to be determined final Weekend of Death play test in the new year. Nothing now can stop us, except death, catastrophic meteor impact, critic illness, injury or a good dose of apathy.
Wombats to you all