Unapologetic Feminist

Know what's rude? My husband convinced me to watch The Magicians. So I finally did, and got into it, and finished it on Netflix, and then started DVR-ing the current season. He won't watch the current season because he wants to be able to binge it. So now I can't watch the new episodes if he's around. Like I said. Rude.

We did our solo D&D game last night, and my cleric of Corellon is in a really difficult position. I don't even think the DM did this on purpose. So there's an invading army of evil, murderous eladrin. In this world where we find ourselves, there are lots of drow, on the surface, participating in society like they're people. We sent a message to the royal Seneschal, warning about the invading army (who is totally after my primary, cloned character).

He had us meet with him, and said he had a means of stopping them, but we'd need to attempt a diplomatic mission to get specific assistance from the "traditionalist" drow who still dwell in the Underdark. And they still worship Lolth.

So, here's the problem. These are Corellon's tenets:

* Cultivate beauty in all that you do, whether you’re casting a spell, composing a saga, strumming a lute, or practicing the arts of war.
* Seek out lost magic items, forgotten rituals, and ancient works of art. Corellon might have inspired them in the world’s first days.
* Thwart the followers of Lolth at every opportunity.

So, I'm still trying to think this through. This eladrin army would still be enemies of these drow, but they're also basically genocidal. But these Lolth-worshipping drow are also their enemies.

So, do I have her suddenly start aiding the evil eladrin? That won't work. They'll just kill my cleric. So, I think that means that's not an opportunity to thwart the followers of Lolth, in the strictest sense, right? Because if I just go and try to help and die, that's not thwarting anyone.

So, I think I just need to have her participate in this diplomatic mission, but watch for opportunities to fuck over the drow. I need to think more.

Today on My Husband is a Mean DM: Existential Crisis Edition...

(And I know at least one of you has occasionally been inspired by things he's done! I feel bad for the characters in your game already!)

Where last we left off, although I hadn't been posting regular updates, I'd been playing my two characters (the cleric of Correllon (Moira), and the Witch, Sorcha), my witch had been abducted by some sort of aberrant thing that was doing nasty experiments on her, decided she couldn't handle it and "consented" to being sedated. Cleric was working on her rescue, though!

So, uh, she's rescued? Maybe? I guess?

How many of you have watched Farscape? Remember that time Crichton got doubled? Both versions of Crichton were very much the real Crichton? Multiply that now... there were now six versions of my character, who were found in the rescue. All identical. All with the same thought processes and same memories. All really believing they're really real. And then all freaking the fuck out fearing they're not really real. (And me wondering if my "real" character is actually off in some other laboratory being cut up into little pieces.)

"Good" news is, on an OOC, meta-game level, I know one of them is my "real" character. I know this because after much confusion and uncertainty, my Cleric decided to try a Holy Cleansing to see what happened. And I got to roll 1d6, to see if she targeted the original. I must assume she did not, because after she completed the Holy Cleansing, that one of me dissolved into a puddle of blood.

The remaining five were horrified and did not want to die, so they were not willing to continue trying this method of identifying the real Sorcha.

Moira also felt horrified, because it was clear that although not everyone was the original Sorcha, they were all people who wanted and deserved to live.

More hemming and hawing. Each Sorcha then concluded that they were absolutely certain that they were real, and each one volunteered to risk their life to prove it. Moira was a little perturbed. After some consideration, she decided to try another Holy Cleanse, this time on Sorcha's little Coure Attendant familiar (there were identical copies of him too, but killing him would not be permanent since he could be summoned again). So, the Sorcha's drew lots. The winner had the cleansing done on her familiar. Nothing happened. So, believing she must be the original, Moira agreed to attempt the Holy Cleanse on her the following morning.

So, that Sorcha got nice and wasted the night before, tried and failed to seduce her very freaked out boyfriend. And the following morning, was cleansed, another die was rolled, and she dissolved into a puddle of blood.

Moira was not willing to do this again. Sorcha's boyfriend was still freaked out, and said they needed to figure something out, because they couldn't just all live with four Sorchas, but they were all clearly her as far as any practical purposes.

The remaining Sorchas assigned numbers to themselves. They weren't happy about it, but they did it. Their boyfriend suggested maybe colors would be preferable, so as not to seem to be giving preference to number one (which they weren't). They all glared at him and said, "Blue," in unison. He winced and left them alone.

(Yes, DM confirmed they all think the same way, and all come up with all the same ideas... think again of Farscape's Crichton trying to play Rock Paper Scissors with himself and getting the same result every time.)

All versions of my character concluded they all preferred to remain with their loved ones, but not as one of four. They agreed that only one could do so, but that since they could not find any way to distinguish among themselves, the only way to make a decision was randomly. So they brainstormed other things they could do that they wouldn't hate. They decided someone would go to the Fey Wild and join the Moon Elves they'd met there. Another would go become an artificer, because they'd found that technology interesting. The other would try to go study portals. So they wrote down all the options, put them into a bowl, and drew.

My husband did not have me roll a die. I am effectively playing my character. I'll not know if she's the original. There's a 75% chance she's not, and she has to live with knowing that she's probably not real, and maybe doesn't have a soul, and that all of her loved ones considered her completely interchangeable with three other admittedly identical versions of her. Cheery.