This will be a short series that's inspired by, but not related to Andy's "The Great War" Mafia game. I was at work today and laughing at the low-key roleplaying that was happening early Day 1, and thought of what each player's forumer persona would be in a WW1 setting. For whatever reason I couldn't get that thought out of my head, and I had to take a break to jot down some ideas lest they keep distracting me at work.
I thought I'd write a brief piece about each player's forum persona in the Great War whenever they died in the mafia game. I would again like to emphasize that this has everything to do with forum persona, and nothing to do with mafia game roles. Please keep any mafia game discussion in the mafia thread, otherwise feel free to post in this one.
Anyways here's the intro.
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"What'cha lookin' at old man?" says the young grandson as he walks through the screen door onto his great-grandfather's porch.
"Some pictures from my time in the service," mumbles the old man. He rocks gently on his chair as his great-grandson climbs onto his lap.
The old man shoves his grandson off his lap and on to the porch.
"Ah didn't say you could look!" yells the old man.
"Who cares about your dumb pictures anyways," says the grandson, dusting himself off.
"Dumb pictures?" says the old man. "These were some of the first pictures ever taken, and they're of the greatest soldiers in the greatest war!"
"Yeah right," chuckles the grandson, dragging an empty box of ammo by his grandpa. "A way better war happened like five minutes after that one."
"It's true that the second world war has more...narrative appeal," admits the old man. "But my war, the Great War, has the greatest legends."
"Legends, huh?" asks the grandson.
The grandson climbs up on the ammunition box so that he can see the pictures. The old man turns the book of pictures away, and slowly turns it back to him.
"If you promise not to be a little shit, I'll even tell you some of their stories," says the old man.
"I'll think about it," says the grandson as he looks at the pictures. He points at a picture of a Canadian holding a strange weapon. "Who's that weirdo with the nun-chucks?"
"Ho, that piece of work was my first commander, Robin Mor" says the old man. "That faggot-ass piece of shit ran like a bitch from his responsibilities, and the dingo-fucker got shot in the head trying to desert. Dickhead owed me three cigs and a vidya, too."
"You seem, um, very upset about it, even after a long time," questions the grandson. "You should get over it."
"He owed all my mates three cigs and a vidya, too," says the old man. "So shut your pie-hole before I stuff a clock spider in 'der."
"Who's that?" asks the grandson, pointing to a picture of someone else.
"Heh," chuckles the old man. "Why, that's...
I thought I'd write a brief piece about each player's forum persona in the Great War whenever they died in the mafia game. I would again like to emphasize that this has everything to do with forum persona, and nothing to do with mafia game roles. Please keep any mafia game discussion in the mafia thread, otherwise feel free to post in this one.
Anyways here's the intro.
----------------
"What'cha lookin' at old man?" says the young grandson as he walks through the screen door onto his great-grandfather's porch.
"Some pictures from my time in the service," mumbles the old man. He rocks gently on his chair as his great-grandson climbs onto his lap.
The old man shoves his grandson off his lap and on to the porch.
"Ah didn't say you could look!" yells the old man.
"Who cares about your dumb pictures anyways," says the grandson, dusting himself off.
"Dumb pictures?" says the old man. "These were some of the first pictures ever taken, and they're of the greatest soldiers in the greatest war!"
"Yeah right," chuckles the grandson, dragging an empty box of ammo by his grandpa. "A way better war happened like five minutes after that one."
"It's true that the second world war has more...narrative appeal," admits the old man. "But my war, the Great War, has the greatest legends."
"Legends, huh?" asks the grandson.
The grandson climbs up on the ammunition box so that he can see the pictures. The old man turns the book of pictures away, and slowly turns it back to him.
"If you promise not to be a little shit, I'll even tell you some of their stories," says the old man.
"I'll think about it," says the grandson as he looks at the pictures. He points at a picture of a Canadian holding a strange weapon. "Who's that weirdo with the nun-chucks?"
"Ho, that piece of work was my first commander, Robin Mor" says the old man. "That faggot-ass piece of shit ran like a bitch from his responsibilities, and the dingo-fucker got shot in the head trying to desert. Dickhead owed me three cigs and a vidya, too."
"You seem, um, very upset about it, even after a long time," questions the grandson. "You should get over it."
"He owed all my mates three cigs and a vidya, too," says the old man. "So shut your pie-hole before I stuff a clock spider in 'der."
"Who's that?" asks the grandson, pointing to a picture of someone else.
"Heh," chuckles the old man. "Why, that's...