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After being pestered by K.'s student Chloe, I ran a game of Clay-O-Rama at OberCon today. It was a mixed success; everyone who played had fun, but as it was the last event on a sluggish Sunday evening it was not particularly well-attended. I had five players, three adults and two kids, who seemed to be a single group of out-of-towners, and since we were tucked out of the way we didn't get any spectators. I'd've liked to play with some Oberlin students, or at least, y'know, some persons of non-homogeneous gender, but no dice.
One of the kids played a hobo, complete with spiked shopping cart and remarkably detailed missiles—newspapers, a half-eaten hamburger, fries, a snake, a squirrel, and squirrel intestines (from a different squirrel). The other played a pissed-off skyscraper, with a rocket pack and a tennis court atop his hat. We also had a vampire turtle, a nectarine, and a monkey (hence the poo quote). The monkey caused the most carnage, flinging the hobo against the ceiling and smashing the skyscraper with a Blob of Death in the first couple of turns. Fortunately, the hobo had the Scavenger power, and was able to reabsorb his bits (as well as bits of skyscraper and monkey poo). The game came down to a slug-fest between the nectarine and the turtle; despite the turtle's endurance and regenerative abilities, the nectarine rolled over him in the end.
I would've liked to see a little more awareness of the kids' emotional state from the adult players; they ganged up on the kids early on, and didn't demonstrate markedly better maturity than the kids did. I think skyscraper-lad got his feelings hurt when his Stomp turned out to be a wee piddling thing (due to bad aim) and they ribbed him about it. But everyone left vowing to buy Play-Doh ASAP, and one person asked for a copy of the rules; it was fun for all, if not as fun as the Alumni Weekend Clay-Fest.
On my way there, I saw a girl in a pink bathrobe (and, apparently, nothing else, to judge by the breeze) on the roof of her dorm, soaking up the warm. Hard to believe it's supposed to snow in two days.
One of the kids played a hobo, complete with spiked shopping cart and remarkably detailed missiles—newspapers, a half-eaten hamburger, fries, a snake, a squirrel, and squirrel intestines (from a different squirrel). The other played a pissed-off skyscraper, with a rocket pack and a tennis court atop his hat. We also had a vampire turtle, a nectarine, and a monkey (hence the poo quote). The monkey caused the most carnage, flinging the hobo against the ceiling and smashing the skyscraper with a Blob of Death in the first couple of turns. Fortunately, the hobo had the Scavenger power, and was able to reabsorb his bits (as well as bits of skyscraper and monkey poo). The game came down to a slug-fest between the nectarine and the turtle; despite the turtle's endurance and regenerative abilities, the nectarine rolled over him in the end.
I would've liked to see a little more awareness of the kids' emotional state from the adult players; they ganged up on the kids early on, and didn't demonstrate markedly better maturity than the kids did. I think skyscraper-lad got his feelings hurt when his Stomp turned out to be a wee piddling thing (due to bad aim) and they ribbed him about it. But everyone left vowing to buy Play-Doh ASAP, and one person asked for a copy of the rules; it was fun for all, if not as fun as the Alumni Weekend Clay-Fest.
On my way there, I saw a girl in a pink bathrobe (and, apparently, nothing else, to judge by the breeze) on the roof of her dorm, soaking up the warm. Hard to believe it's supposed to snow in two days.
