This time I woke up in a coffin at my viewing. I knew this would happen when the other party member just left my body lying in the dog run for the dog part of the animal and people rescue at the compound.
Explanation of the situation. We heisted the Pink Purse Poodle (official breed name for a poodle the size smaller than teacup with naturally pink hair) and had to have someone take care of the pupper until we could manage the transfer to the Johnson, so I brought it to my place where there is a registered animal rescue in case someone was tracking the ID chip. I put the dog into the fenced dog run so he could use the facility instead of making a puddle in the house, and as he was doing his business I heard lots of barking and growling. As I investigated the noise I saw what appeared to be a calico house cat roughly the size of a large tiger in the dog run. This creature is called a Talis Cat, and is a magically enlarged house cat with an appetite to match the size. Some people keep these as pets in the DFW Sprawl, and this was either one of those running loose, or a stray. I was still loaded up with 3 gel rounds and one lethal slug in my arm gun and managed to get 2 gel rounds on target against the Talis Cat before it got to me, and pretty much took me out in one attack. I had a very bad defense roll and it went through my entire damage pool and 4 ticks into overflow in the single attack, which is DEAD for most characters but not for The Old Man. This time I woke up in a coffin at the viewing because I was out in front of the house and when the party came to get the poodle for the Johnson to deliver for the client they just left my body for the neighbors to find. The Old Man is a beloved neighborhood figure and seeing me in that condition they naturally assumed I was Permanently Dead because there are tales of my surviving things that would kill a normal being but this was obviously not something I could live through. So, I woke up still missing some bits and regenerating them, including my implanted cat eye bioware (because bioware doesn’t need to be recharged to keep working). So I’m partially blind until I finish growing the new eyes (and the rest of my face), and announced to the people paying respects “I’m not dead yet! Don’t you people watch Monty Python? I was pining for the fjords.” Which caused the mourners great consternation except for those who watched the Monty Python marathon my character puts on for Halloween, they laughed.
So, anyway, The Old Man is currently growing back the bits the Talis Cat chewed up to ripped out while the rest of the group delivers the poodle to the Johnson and back to the person we dognapped it from so it could be used as a living spy device. The original plan was for me as head of the dog rescue to deliver the pupper as having gotten the address from the ID chip when we scanned the dog after it showed up looking for food/ got dropped at the delivery entrance/ whatever wild story we could think of. But since I was still not in condition to leave the house, that plan got scotched.
Incidentally Team Ruff beat Team Fluff in the Puppy Bowl, and there was some kind of a football game at the same time, some kind of a Superb Owl thing.
And I have yammered on enough.
I had a good night at the RPG group last night where I made a major contribution to the survival of the party with my Warlock character until we encountered “poop demons” that were immune to the effects of Eldritch Blast or edged weapons (my character’s choice of weapon when forced to use something other than magic during battle). About all I could do was seal off the portal from which they came into the dungeon, and I’m not really sure I did that, or if the number of demons we fought was the number originally selected by the DM for this encounter. But up until that part of the campaign last night I was as effective in protecting the party as our Barbarian usually is in open terrain. I should mention that my character in this game is the least evil alignment available to Warlocks, Chaotic Good, and is a bit of a clown at heart having developed a specific spell-like attack that can be used against any PC or NPC that wears pants, something like an equipment failure attack that causes the character’s pants to fall down around their ankles and stay there unless held up with one hand. Besides being funny (Ha, ha, your pants fell down!) this attack restricts the effected character’s movement or ability to fight as they have to lose the ability to use two-handed attacks or lose the ability to move at full speed. The saving throw is based on the character’s Charisma attribute and the DM’s judgement. The working name for this is “Eldritch Lesser Pantsing” and lasts 2 rounds per level of the caster, then the pants (or lower part of the armor) just fall off unless pulled up and fixed back in place by whatever means they are normally held up. BTW my fierce and frightening Warlock is named “Sparrow”…
On the bicycle front, I was not able to get the damaged fender stay straight, but I was able to get the damage symmetrical on both sides so at lest the front of the fender is centered on the wheel and tire. Getting the fender stay completely straight would require having a U shaped dolly and a specialized hammer that is like a pick hammer but has a much thinner point. Or somebody could go to this page 26″ Fender Brace CHROME and send me one. I just gave my last $0.11 from my Christmas money to my church so I’m tapped out until I get my tax return (I’m going to get back $220 this year).
For the Bike MS, our webmistress is still setting up the button for accepting donations through the church, I’m still training for hill climbing (I’m doing a rest day today by spinning in short gears instead of the really tall gears I was mashing last week), and I have worked a way to reduce the wear and tear on my backside for the ride that I discovered during the hill-training-on-flat-ground sessions last week. If I’m in a gear that requires me to pull on the handlebars to not slide off the seat backwards, I can reduce my arm load as well as my butt wear and tear by tilting the seat nose down instead of the level I normally use because I sit on the seat rather than rest against it. This means I’m using the bike more like it was designed to be used, but I will have to do something about my knees and their pain before the big ride. Mashing really tall gears is like doing one-legged squats for my knees, painful over time, but eventually I acclimate to it. The gear I ride in when I’m doing this training is 62″ for starts and mild hills where I normally ride a 47″ gear at a much higher cadence. In contrast when I was riding the Stratus as my “daily driver” the gears were much harder to change because of the shifters being mounted on the “conning tower” instead of the handlebars, and I normally rode in a 50-60″ gear unless climbing a hill, but the Stratus had a much cleaner aero profile than Blue does as it had both a front windshield/sunshield and a tailbox but with open sides and limited front streamlining. I worked a little harder off the line with the Stratus, but not as hard JRA in the same gear. The 47″ gear on Blue was roughly comparable to the 60″ gear on the Stratus for power output used over time.
I have been redesigning my drag trike so that I can put a fairing on it to get higher terminal speeds at the end of the quarter mile. The current front-runner design is FWD with 1 front and 2 rear wheels running 700c wheels as this will give the fairing a slender nose with mostly normal bicycle components, unlike the last drag trike that had mostly whittled from scratch components that had a bad tendency to break chains shifting from low gear to high. At this point of the design I could make either end steer the trike.
And in the spirit of the headline I’m going to close with “I feel Happy” to go with the “I’m not dead yet”, and a side of “I’m being oppressed!” to go with that.