nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
Three ideas for the thread, Reasons why aliens avoid earth in a contemporary setting:

Look, it's not about you, Humanity. It's those dolphins. They're just... barbarians. So crude and vulgar, you can't invite them anywhere. It's just better for the galaxy if they're shunned.

Well, they've already got Elvis and Bowie, so why come back?

This area of the Western Spiral Arm was supposed to have been cleared for redevelopment several deka-millennia ago. Somehow, Earth and its inhabitants were missed. Dreadful [procreative organ]-up, somebody's [sensory and cephalic cluster] will roll for it, I'm sure. That is, if anyone finds out about it. If there were an accident, say, and a gamma-ray clearance burster was set off without anyone making a final safety check, nobody would have to pay for evacuating the system. Just saying.
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
Snatches of overheard dialogue for the thread, [101] Guard banter topics:

Cut for length )
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
A few ideas for the thread 101 Crazy Things You'd See In Gonzo Vietnam:

A lost patrol. A squad that has gotten separated from its upper echelons during what should have been a routine sweep. They have the wrong map for this province, which is probably why they are lost. Give them directions and they'll be on their way.

A Viet Cong field hospital. In a swamp:

A young fighter from the Danh Son Huol Cambodian ethnic group was taken to a field hospital in the forest of U Minh after being wounded in a United States air raid. The hospital stood hidden in a swamp on the Viet Cong-controlled peninsula of Ca Mau. Sept. 15, 1970.

An ACOUSID electronic acoustic and seismic sensor, half buried in the earth. If the party walks past it without speaking, then they may be targeted by artillery or air-strikes. If they speak Vietnamese, they definitely will. If they speak American, then they're (probably) safe.
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
My contributions to the thread [101] things found in a vial of liquid:

Cut for length )
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
Suggestions for the thread I need names. Good names. For spaceships.

Cut for length )
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
My contributions to the thread 101 Things to be Found in the Refrigerator (someone thought of "Girlfriend" really early):

Mild gruesomeness warning )
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
Ideas from the thread, 1001 Things to find inside of a secret government warehouse:

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nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
An idea of mine from the thread, 101 Locations in trade hub space station:


In the unpressurised zone of the container storage area, where spare cargo containers are stacked and often forgotten about, there are many, many containers. One, almost completely indistinguishable from any other except for its serial number, #14228, and the worn colours of a defunct shipping company, hides an unofficial establishment. It's not exactly a secret, since all the artificial intelligences on the station and not a few organic and plasma-based vacuum dwellers know about it. It's not exactly a bar, since AIs are seldom affected by chemical intoxicants, and who knows what plasmoids do for fun, anyway? But whenever an AI needs to meet discreetly with another AI in a setting that isn't work, and isn't infested with ambulatory collections of pink goo, or filled with corrosive oxygen, and which isn't likely to be as surveilled as the station's virtual spaces and comm nets, #14228 is the place where they often go.

Organics aren't exactly barred, but it would be a lie to say that they are welcome, even if they know about the place, let alone where to find it. Besides, it's an uncomfortable place for them, even in their pressure suits. The light level is at starlight intensity, requiring the use of image intensifiers to navigate around (thermal infra-red is of limited use, and millimetre radar is absorbed by the coating on the walls and furniture). It's in a vacuum, of course, and there is no artificial gravity. Inside, #14228 is in fact several containers welded together with the interior walls heavily modified or removed entirely, although the exact size and shape is obscure. The interior is maze-like, with partitions, rooms, booths and the occasional large empty volume scattered seemingly at random in three dimensions. Although you seldom see them do it, the staff re-organise the partitions from time to time so that it seldom has the same exact layout as the last time you visited.

The customers can be observed, usually motionless, attached by Velcro, or magnets, or just holding on with a manipulator to a wall or structural beam; sometimes in small groups, linked together by private fibre optic cable; or in couples with their optical ports lined up, a little laser light leaking from the gap, or holding manipulators as their digits beat a rapid, complicated tap code to each other; sometimes in larger groups, the ether so filled with RF signals that a sapient can't pick up an uncorrupted data packet from a metre away; or sometimes solitary, not connected to anything, sensing nothing, seemingly oblivious to the external universe. The staff move quickly and surely through the dark maze, providing whatever services the clientele require.

No-one knows who owns the place: some say it's the Silicon Mafia (as though they still used silicon); others that it's a robot collective (careful who you're calling a robot, pink goo); still others that it's run by the station AI for its own amusement. Station security know about it, and watch the container's hatch closely (when the storage bay's cameras are working), making note of who goes in and out. They may have an informant or two on the staff; the informants may even be reliable, or maybe not. But the club is heavily RF shielded, is isolated from the station's own network, and is regularly swept for recording dust. Probably no-one knows completely what goes on in there.
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
Ideas for the thread, 101 threats to a fantasy town:

  • Badgers are digging up the local graveyard. ...At least, people are saying it's badgers.

  • In the city, the followers of Cult A and Cult B are bitter enemies, always at each other's throats. Out here in the sticks, the priest of Cult A and the priestess of Cult B have pretty much agreed to get along to get along, always helping each other out with this and that, supporting each other at council meetings, and so on. However, the Bishop of Cult A and the High Priestess of Cult B are both due to visit next week, and are expecting to see evidence of enthusiastic followers smiting enemies and heretics politically, blood-curdling polemics issued from the altars, everything short of fighting in the streets — in fact, strike that last, although Cult A/B is a cult of peace, there is nothing in the holy doctrines saying you can't defend yourself against unwarranted aggression, such as a member of Cult B/A daring to breathe the same air as you. Any perceived lack of zeal may result in the aged and respected priest or priestess getting replaced with some young firebrand from the city, who's only going to stir up trouble. Your job as sheriff is to help the local cultists demonstrate proper enthusiasm, stop any stirrers getting carried away, and keep up the pretence to the relevant superior of either god-botherer being the primary mover and shaker in local politics while the other is within an inch of being stamped out.

  • The local hero is returning home after many years adventuring, to hang up his sword and retire. Unfortunately, he never succeeded in conquering all of his enemies, or his enemies' relatives, and they are seeking revenge. All of them, at once. Expect to see a plethora of mysterious strangers, vast wingèd beasties glimpsed far off above the clouds, and bands of orcs and goblins brooding ominously on nearby skylines.

  • Time for the annual midsummer Fishtown vs Cowtown ballgame! Object of the game is to get the inflated pig's bladder from the town square to the harbour or the cattle market. Players may kick, punch, head, or carry the ball. Players may kick, punch or head other players, but carrying is frowned upon. Play starts at midday, with a break for a round of drinks whenever a goal is scored, and continues until nightfall or everyone is too drunk or injured to continue. As sheriff it's your job to keep property damage and spectator injuries to a minimum. And serve as referee, here's your whistle. Good luck!

  • Originally Posted by Arilou
      Someone has pulled the Sword of Destiny from the Stone of Ages. Unfortunately, no one knows who. Double-unfortunately, it was what was keeping the monsters away from the town.

    "Again? Bloody tourists! *Sigh* I'll get the spare sword... I don't know why we keep that bloody stone. We'd be better off with it in the lake...."

nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
Ideas for the thread, Ways the Villain isn't actually dead. These posts are all old, btw, I'm not having an unusually creative day.

Cut for length )
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
My contributions to the thread, Things to have been dug up:

Break for length )
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
My contributions to the thread, Give me your alternative realities!

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nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)
My contributions to the RPGnet thread, 101 unusual things in the sky (slightly edited):
Cut for length )
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Why invade?

Aug. 7th, 2015 07:26 pm
nelc: Toy Story alien photographer (camera)

Ideas I had for the Why might aliens invade a planet thread at, gathered in one place:

  • Tourism. They've heard about our freaky eclipses and have come to experience them themselves. Naturally, they can't be expected to rough it on a primitive world, so there will have to be some... development.

  • Political asylum. The 450 Angstrom faction are being actively suppressed by the 675 Angstrom faction, their rights ignored, their nurdflungs always deprillilated, forced to live in poverty and squalor, simply for their politico-religious beliefs. Since intercepting an old TV broadcast from 1936, they've realised that our otherwise primitive planet has people who share their sophisticated political viewpoint, and have come to seek asylum.

  • To sell us useless crap. Worse, dangerous useless crap. Hyperspace transports with inadequate hyperspace shielding; black hole powerplants not actually certified to be run on a planet's surface; industrial robots that can only be controlled via a buggy, alien operating system; synthetic pets that eat vermin and dust... and other pets, and children, and adults if they're allowed to grow too big, just like the owner's manual says in big infra-red letters on the first page, oh, you don't read Galactic-12? Genetic enhancements that have been pirated from the galaxy's biggest genetic engineering conglomerate, who have the galaxy's hungriest lawyers; universal translators that have an unfortunate tendency to translate what a person is thinking rather than saying; handguns powerful enough to stop a tank; grey goo; philosophies; pyramid schemes.

  • Refugees. Their planet has been invaded and defeated, so they've fled the invaders and washed up here.

  • Prophesy. The Galactic Messiah/Anti-Pope/CEO ("Is this translator podule working properly?") is coming, as They have been prophesied to for the last hundred thousand years, and Earth is currently the best fit for the vaguely-worded, badly translated, and frankly contradictory prophesies that have been circulating around the galaxy all that time. When They come, They will bring peace/plasma/an invoice to the Galaxy, and all shall praise/curse/pay Them.

    Of course, there are different factions that each regard all the others as heretics/heretics/differently-paradigmed, so we end up getting multiply invaded and re-invaded, until they realise that the Chosen One was probably Douglas Adams and they missed him, so now they have to find where he'll reincarnate next.

  • Eviction. This part of the spiral arm is owned by the Persean Co-Optive Planoforming Group, and this planet is due for redevelopment in the next millennium. H. sapiens is therefore illegally occupying said property and is hereby given notice to quit within the next century. Failure to comply will result in forcible removal, fines, and possible imprisonment. Additional penalties may be levied if the squatters have damaged the property either during the occupation or their removal.

  • Dolphins. Really, the invaders don't care about us, it's those cetacean hooligans they've had enough of.

Other people's ideas at the link.
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My contributions to the thread The game where we run movie titles together, collected in one place, just because I don't want to lose them.

Much silliness )


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