OK, I fly off to the Brighton UK World Fantasy thingummygig tomorrow and will be incommunicado for two weeks! If anyone needs to keep in touch for that period best bet is Bluesky, and if you're not already aware you can get me at @karloff0734.bsky.social. I will try to post a couple Skies while there but otherwise will be enjoying the time off and dealing with family stuff.
I'll drop by what used to be Raining Books, my uncle's Brighton bookshop, but only to say farewell. I know a couple of you used to visit the shop and by now you'll be aware he died earlier this year. I'm not sure what state the building's in; I expect it will be passing into new hands by now, if it hasn't already.
Question for the hivemind! If someone like me were to dip their toes into online, what virtual tabletop best suits Cthulhu or modern gaming? Roll20 is the obvious one. It does pretty much everything, and Kickstarter promises all kinds of other virtual TT experiences. Which, in your opinion, is the best of the bunch? Looking at user friendly as much as options available; I want to use my time wisely.
Now, let's dabble in travel and suppose that your Bookhounds are travelling from London to Brighton in search of whatever they may find. They may have a definite object or they may just be on the knock, trying to source some rarities by knocking on doors to see what can be had.
One route to Brighton, as The Brighton Road (Charles G Harper) helpfully illustrates, takes the Hounds through Horley, where they might find the Six Bells Inn:
The nearest neighbour to the church is the almost equally ancient “Six Bells” inn, which took its title from the ring of bells in the church tower. Since 1839, however, when two bells were added, there have been eight in the belfry.
The stranger, foregathering with the rustics at the “Six Bells,” and missing the old houses that once stood near the church and have been replaced by new, very quickly has his regrets for them cut short by those matter-of-fact villagers, who declare that “ye wooden tark so ef ye had to live in un.” A typical rustic had “comic brown-titus” acquired in one of those damp old cottages, and has “felt funny” ever since. One with difficulty resisted the suggestion that, if he could be as funny as he felt, he should set up for a humorist, and oust some of the dull dogs who pose as jesters.
The Six Bells still exists today. Judging by the image, its exterior has barely changed in a hundred years. If it was called Six Bells in 1839 the suggestion is that it's been on that spot for many years prior. From the Hounds' POV, the Six Bells is at least a hundred years old and probably older. The rumor of a passage underneath the inn that leads to the church is an old tale; there isn't an inn pub in existence that hasn't had that story told about it.
Church Inns aren't uncommon, particularly in the UK.
This is the third edition of Brighton Road, published 1922, so most of the facts (or purported facts at least) will be relevant to 1930s Hounds. Though the book doesn't say, I'm guessing those houses close to the Church were owned by the Church. If the author misses them in 1922 then presumably they existed in 1892, when the book was first published.
In any case, fiction can do as it pleases.
Brown-Titus
The Hounds are on their way to Brighton for reasons of their own and have stopped in Horley for a bit to have a pint and pie at the Six Bells before pressing on.
While there, one of the locals presents them with a scrap of a larger manuscript hoping to sell it to them. The man, John Henry Bristow, is an old resident who lives on charity and a small pension. The Hounds don't know if he realizes what he has, or whether there's more out there.
Four things about the manuscript:
It dates to the 1830s and tells a story about something that happened in the 1750s.
It's not clear what the something is, but it might be a witch trial that took place locally. There's not enough of it here to be certain about it.
The paper and printing are genuine enough. There are peculiar brown stains on the paper which might be mold.
ROME. Whatever that may mean in your narrative.
Four things about John Henry:
He says he's more than four score and ten and judging by appearances he's in his eighties.
There's something hypnotic about his eyes.
Nobody at the Six Bells likes him much. If anything, they're scared of him.
For someone his age, he moves well and has an iron grip handshake.
John Henry says the rest of the manuscript is at his cottage and will take the Hounds to see it, if they are interested. His cottage isn't far from the Six Bells, but he won't take them there till after dark. He'll want a few pints at the pub first.
Option One:Hideous Cravings. John Henry found this manuscript stuffed under the floorboards of his cottage. It tells the story of a 17th century trial in which the accused claimed to be a werewolf, and to have suffered this curse after meeting a mysterious dark figure at a nearby crossroads. Anyone with Mythos realizes that this is actually an account of someone becoming a ghoul after encountering another ghoul. While John Henry isn't a ghoul, he's becoming very interested in some ghoulish practices after reading the manuscript and is hoping for a taste of Hound flesh.
Option Two:Hideous Hijinks. John Henry isn't local. He's a plant. One of the Hounds' rivals knew they were on their way to Brighton and is hoping to hold them up long enough so the rival can get to Brighton before they do and scoop the prize, whatever that is. John Henry is a minor Magick user with hypnotic abilities, who will use those abilities to keep the Hounds busy for as long as he can manage it. The manuscript doesn't exist and never did. John Henry Bristow is an assumed name; the Hounds might recognize him as Lewis Ackerman, a Book Scout with some acting talent.
Option Three:Hideous Mold. There is no John Henry Bristow. What passes as him is actually a mold colony that grows in one of the last remaining old cottages clustered near the Church. The Colony uses the John Henry illusion to collect new building material - like the Hounds. Think of it like a vampire but made of fungi. It knows better than to attack the locals, who might decide to destroy it; but outsiders are fair game. The mold keeps Horley people in check by clouding their minds with its spores; the Hounds may realize the locals are under what amounts to mass hypnosis, which may be their only warning that John Henry is not what he appears to be.
Remember that the encounter, not the adventure, is the fundamental unit of play. If you design your whole dungeon expecting characters to follow a certain path or explore it in a certain way, you will always be let down. Consider your dungeon a collection of encounters, not a story in itself. The story will emerge organically, as characters pursue their goals and adapt to overcome the encounters you've designed.
You can tell the Fishels came from a Dungeons and Dragons background, and that's not just because they use the word dungeon. It's because they see encounters as things to be overcome. That follows the basic D&D principle that even live action play follows, to an extent: the things you find in front of you are obstacles, not parts of the narrative, and they are to be beaten, not navigated past, negotiated or otherwise engaged with. When you are in a 10 by 10 room, everything looks like an orc guarding a chest.
However, the advice is sound. You can't expect players to navigate the space the way it's drawn. One of the reasons why I've never liked drawing maps isn't my lack of artistic ability - though that definitely helps - it's the realization that the map does the players no good. They don't want to tap-tap-tap their way down the corridor checking for traps with their 10ft pole. Or chickens.
But if you present the characters with an elaborate map, they explore the map. Or try to. Before they get bored and start to make their own fun.
In my experience the best maps are the ones like the train in Orient Express: not a dungeon so much as a convenient way of illustrating the surroundings, so the characters can say 'while such-and-such is in the dining car, being distracted by Charlie's scintillating conversation, I shall be in the baggage car, going through their trunk and belongings.'
Still! A series of encounters. OK. Let's game that out.
Assume this is a Facility. The characters have discovered it and want to investigate it. It doesn't really matter which setting this is, but for the purpose of example I'm going to assume it's Night's Black Agents. Modern day spycraft, in other words, and this is a Manufacturing Facility with Medium Security and Medium Monitoring. That means Difficulty 4 for most tests, and any investigative point spends to find out information start at 1 point for the basics. Medium Monitoring suggests that any enemy response will be relatively quick, something like 5-10 minutes armed response for any blatant oopsie, and Medium Security suggests that there are guards and cameras on-site as this is a reasonably important installation.
OK, fine. There are locks on the doors and people paying attention to what's going on. It doesn't matter, in this example, what the Facility is manufacturing. Assume it's narrative-important. It makes MacGuffins.
So if this is a series of encounters, not a set of rooms to explore, what are those encounters?
Well, let's take a step back and talk a little bit about the Building.
This is, after all, a mini-Building. It's the narrative space in which you expect players to meet people, creating plot. We already know it's a Manufacturing Facility. That suggests semi-industrial at least, possibly biological or chemical depending on the nature of the MacGuffin. A Supernatural setting might be different; a funeral home could be a Manufacturing Facility, if you assume they're making zombies or torturing souls. However, let's keep it simple and assume that it's semi-industrial.
That implies there's not much in the way of residential or commercial nearby. There might be a caff for local trade, somewhere that sells fish and chips, say. There won't be a high street stuffed full of shoppers. The traffic on the roads is more likely to be trucks than Ferraris. Not many tourists, if any at all. The people here have a purpose for being here; they're transporting, lifting, carrying, on their way to A from B, not noodling around looking for entertainment. If there are thieves or neer-do-wells lurking about, they're not muggers or pickpockets. There's slim pickings for that type. Car thieves or burglars might do well here.
Most important to note, unless the enemy have a good relationship with the local law, there probably aren't any police nearby. After all, what they're doing is illegal, or at best borderline-legal. They don't want straight law enforcement breathing down their necks. Thus, if there are coppers nearby, they're working hand-in-hand with the folks running the Facility.
OK, that's a decent thumbnail. Encounters?
Well, there are several points to consider. Let's start outside and work our way in.
Assume the characters are standing outside the Facility looking for a way in. They're looking at a semi-industrial area. If this is London, or most places in Europe that haven't been bombed flat in wartime, then the area is a mix of 1900s red brick, 1960s concrete and 2000s cheap industrial, all glass and metal. The first encounter area is external security. Locked doors and cameras. There might be a bloke on the main door, or if there is a loading dock area then there may be security there, and workers loading/unloading lorries as well.
There is the Direct and the Indirect approach.
The Direct approach is obvious, and it's the one a lot of players opt for: smash your way in. Tackle the bloke on the main door, or the ones at the loading dock. That means you need combat stats for them and anyone else in the immediate area. You also need response times for backup, since unless the characters are very quick and clever someone's going to ring the alarm right about now.
The Indirect approach involves going round the back, looking for covert ways in. Or going over the roof of a nearby building to see if you can sneak in. If you have a hacker on the payroll, they might be using this time to take over the enemy's cameras. If you know there's an underground passage or sewer, now's the time to crawl up from below, that sort of thing. This part might not involve a physical challenge but it will want a technical one. Disguises or covert identities may come into play at this point. Remember, you already know that the base Difficulty for most tests is 4. That should help you decide how difficult any particular encounter is.
OK, now they're in. The question now becomes, what Encounters do they find inside?
Well, let's stick with the Rule of 4. This is a relatively simple Facility, after all. It's not one you designed specifically for this campaign. It's one you had to come up with on the fly. That means you have four potential encounters in this Facility, one of which must be Rome. That translates to three ordinary encounter types and one special. The Boss.
Thus:
Flunkies. Low level civilian types, admin, people doing data entry or monitoring cameras. Unarmed, with no combat rating. If the entry was Indirect and no alarm has been triggered then they go about their jobs assuming all is as it should be. Any who encounter the characters assume they have a right to be there, unless they obviously pose a threat. After all, if they didn't have a right to be there, why would they be there? Possible clue to the nature of the Facility found by interrogating the flunky or looking at whatever it is the flunky is doing.
Self-Aware Flunky. Civilian types, but with seniority. They may have combat skills. More importantly, they know the characters aren't supposed to be there and will raise the alarm if given the chance. They definitely possess clues to the nature of the Facility and might have a MacGuffin on them, assuming the MacGuffin is transportable and not unique. There is a chance that one of the self-aware flunkies is actually someone important to the Conspiracy as a whole, eg. a top scientist, necromancer or named NPC of some kind.
Security. These may or may not be armed. If armed, they will use lethal force. If unarmed, they use nonlethal (tasers, pepper spray) and attempt to capture. If armed, well ... If the alarm has not been raised then security does not automatically assume everyone they encounter is a threat. If the alarm has been raised, then security treats everyone they meet as a threat, unless there's reason to behave otherwise. So, eg, if the characters disguise themselves as flunkies, they might not automatically trigger an armed response.
Rome. This might be a thing, rather than a person. In Carpenter's Prince of Darkness, for instance, the strange canister at the heart of the church crypt is Rome. I'm not going to go into great detail here since your Rome may be very different, but the point is, this is the heart of the Facility. Whether it's a vampire on the prowl, a portal to another dimension, a smelting pot for souls or something else altogether, is up to you. The broader point is this: whatever Rome is, it is dangerous, and it is the reason why the Facility exists/functions.
Those are the basic encounters. Do you need more?
Sure, you can have more. Whether you need them or not is up to you. However, for the sake of this example let's assume that there are other factions out there interested in what the enemy is up to. Let's assume the Mysterious Monseigneur and his Vatican friends take an interest in the Facility. They may be watching it from afar. They haven't decided to take action against it, not yet. They want to know more about where the Facility fits into the overall network, so they're just monitoring it for now.
However, now the players decide to move in, and the MM needs to decide what to do about that.
The MM isn't necessarily opposed to the characters. The Vatican's involvement might be simply to watch what happens when the characters poke the hornet's nest. Or it might be to swoop in like the cavalry should the characters want a rescue. Or the characters might notice the MM's people hanging around the Facility and decide to strike up a short-term alliance. Any of these options are on the table, which means the Director needs a rough idea what the MM has to play with. Are his people armed special ops types? Researchers? Occultists? Something else?
Let's further assume that the local authorities are not in the enemy's pocket. That means if the police, firefighters, emergency response or what-have-you show up, their arrival might stop whatever armed response the enemy had in mind. Time for a chase scene, perhaps?
Finally, let's assume some non-aligned media types are lurking nearby. It might be actual media from an honest-to-God news outlet, or it might be random bloggers with drones and cameras. They're here for other reasons, but they might be attracted to the Facility if something eye-catching happens. Like an explosion. Or the beginnings of a chase scene. Again, not a combat encounter, but it is something which complicates the narrative. Sometimes the narrative needs a good complication now and again.
The great thing about encounters like these is that you don't need them for just this moment. You need yes-and contingencies for all kinds of moments. That means you can re-use, say, the police encounter you designed, or the media encounter, in other scenes.
So there you have it. A series of encounters, rather than a set of dungeon tiles. A Facility with a little flesh on its bones.
Amen Court is entered from the junction of Warwick Lane and Paternoster Row ... Of the old houses NOs 1-3, No 1 is interesting as R.H. Barham, then a minor canon, lived here from 1839 - 1845 and wrote The Ingoldsby Legends during his occupation. ... [the pre-Reformation processions allegedly] began with the Lord's Prayer in Paternoster Row and got in their Amen at Amen Corner. They said their Hail Mary in Ava Maria Lane, then their Credo in Creed Lane, and heard their exhortation in Sermon Lane ...
London Cameos by A.H. Blake, 1930
I have a copy of Legends, picked up on a whim in Guernsey. Well worth your time. When I posted about them before I said:
The Ingoldsby Legends. Picked up at Curiosities, an antiquarian shop in Guernsey. It’s often worth your while poking your nose in that sort of place, particularly in somewhere not often frequented like Guernsey. You never know what might be hanging around. This is the 1898 Richard Bentley edition, with illustrations, and is a collection of all three books. The originals would have been published in the 1840s as single volumes. Comic ghost stories and verse. I'm not a huge fan of comic verse - it goes on a little long and I find it wearisome - but the stories are entertaining Gothic and might give you inspiration for your own tales.
One other landmark that would have been close by is Newgate Prison. A portion of the old prison wall still exists at Amen Court. It's slightly surprising Blake didn't mention it; the prison was still there well up until his period, finally being demolished in the early 1900s. In its day it was notorious both as a prison and as a place of execution; the Newgate Hornpipe, ie. hanging, is immortalized in song.
Odd side note. The iron gallows door that led to the place of execution allegedly found its way to Buffalo New York and is now at Canisius University. At least, so says Wikipedia and the internet is never wrong. Not sure how it got across the water, or why; it sounds like the sort of thing that ought to have been put up outside a speakeasy. There was a Newgate Prison in Buffalo, but it was contemporaneous with the existing one in London.
The Legends first appeared in Bentley's Miscalleny, a monthly that boasts Charles Dickens among others as its editor, though Dickens soon fell out with Bentley over editorial control concerns.
With that we get:
Legendary Correspondence
A book scout, Elliott Parker, claims to have discovered some as-yet unknown correspondence written by Dickens to Bentley and approaches the Hounds hoping for a quick sale. The two pages Parker proffers are clearly part of a larger collection, written to Bentley while Dickens was still associated with Bentley's Miscalleny. Parker claims to be acting on behalf of an unnamed seller, and further investigation (eg. tracking Parker's movements) discovers that this seller lives at Amen Court, though it's not clear who the seller is or where, exactly, on Amen Court they live.
The Hounds can determine that the papers are genuine and, if there are more of them, could be sold for a tidy sum.
At one point in the small portion the Hounds have in their possession, Dickens talks about a draft of 'a horrible, gothic little tale' he's working on. It seems to be an early version of his tale, The Haunted House, but if so then it's a version that never saw print. Finding that could be a real boost to the shop.
Spending 1 point of any relevant investigative pool discovers that Parker, when he visits his unnamed seller, always goes to that part of Amen Court closest to the old Newgate Prison.
Option One: Liar. Parker has discovered some Dickens but it's incomplete and has faked up the rest to encourage gullible buyers. He used the good stuff as bait and is relying on the fakes to seal the deal. He's using a false front at Amen Court to sell the story, relying on Rough Magick to get him from his Amen Court false front to his actual hideaway, not far from there, traveling by shadow and subterfuge. However, this repeated use of Magick is making for some very peculiar side effects at Amen Court, and the canons who live there are starting to get worried.
Option Two: The Real Deal. Parker has a genuine seller at Amen Court. The seller discovered these papers during a home refurbishment and thought they would be able to sell these for a small amount. Parker knows their true value and is hoping to fleece the seller. What neither the seller nor Parker appreciate is that the papers are part of a larger stash of lost and found items, hoarded by a supernatural collector. The collector is very unhappy that their stash was found, and is attempting to reclaim the papers.
Option Three: The Newgate Hornpipe. Parker didn't get those papers from Amen Court. He got them from the shadowy remnants of Newgate, gone these many years, which Parker gets to via a magickal door in the wall of Newgate Prison located at Amen Court. Once there he steals the items from the Newgate Hangman, who still exists in that death-touched world beyond. Theoretically the Hounds could copy Parker's technique, get into Newgate and take the papers from their keeper. So long as they're willing to risk a grisly end in the execution cell ...
When I first asked for your input back in the Before Times there was a lone voice calling out for Cyberpunk content. I listen to lone voices, occasionally.
Let's talk RED.
Akira trailer
What attracts me to Cyberpunk? Nostalgia, partly. I have a strong sentimental attachment to those 1980 sci-fi classics. Blade Runner. Tron. Escape From New York! Dead Zone. Le Dernier Combat. Last Starfighter. Night of the Comet! God, that one is fun. Terminator. RoboCop. Alien Nation! Akira, obviously. Lots of memories wrapped up in those hours.
Then there's the hours, days, weeks playing the tabletop back in uni. You never really escape those early experiences. It's probably why Dungeons and Dragons still appeals, in spite of everything. I collected most of the books over the years. It's not difficult to whip up some old favorites with that kind of bait.
But mostly, it's the simplicity of it. Skill plus stat plus D10 randomizer. Sorted. Not like other games where there might be a dozen dice or more, rules for every possible contingency, and extra books with extra rules for all the other contingencies. It's probably the same thing that lures me into Gumshoe, honestly. D6 randomizer plus pool points, and you're off to the races.
Tell you what I don't like. Save the World narratives. They're attractive, sure. But they keep coming back again, and again. Sometimes I just want the world to stay saved, you know? For ten minutes? I feel like the maid ...
With that in mind, let's talk about some campaign ideas. If you like the look of one, give me a shout. We can talk about expanding it.
To start with:
Long Live The King
Partially inspired by this recent article concerning gang crime in Canada. Briefly: the removal of senior leadership within the Quebec mafia results in increased gang crime, as control over the smaller groups disintegrates.
Rome: the recent (and explosive) removal/retirement of senior crime figures causes a shift in power in the district. All the gangs come out to vie for control over the district’s lucrative enterprises. Everything from protection rackets to numbers running to narcotics is in flux, as younger gangs surge to prominence in a wave of shootouts and rumbles. Nobody knows who’ll come out on top; today’s Little Caesar is tomorrow's statistic. Meanwhile, nobody can get anything done and the cops are no help at all; they’re drowning in wave after wave of violence, unable to respond proactively to any of this.
Our protagonists: a local security firm which has contracts for three conapts and, until recently, was trying to become a player in the market. They had a business relationship with the former mafia bosses and now must deal with the coming storm. Do they play kingmaker? Do they go bust in spectacular fashion?
Main activities: diplomacy both corporate and street, fistfights and firefights.
The Bloody Red Baron
Royal Guardsmen
I have a soft spot for this tune. Blame a misspent youth.
Rome: The medical market is sewn up tight, but there’s always room for an independent in those districts where the corps fear to go. Rippers and medicos need someone with more guts than sense to get in and out of the combat zone. Sometimes it’s a body run, collecting spare parts. Other times it’s an extraction under fire. Runners need a proxy to get their wounded out of a tight spot, or some corporate finds themselves on the wrong side of the line. Meanwhile the poor and the desperate just want medical aid, and they don’t care much who provides it.
Our protagonists: owner/operators of the Red Baron, a ramshackle meatwagon which has seen more firefights than anyone cares to think about. Their mission: to bring mobile healthcare to the desperate and those willing to pay. It’s up to the Baron whether they provide Robin Hood medical aid to the poor for free or at cost, or whether they seek to extract every penny from every customer. Whichever it may be, medical supplies and bodybags are best-sellers in today’s market.
Main activities: thrilling chases and MASH-style medical action.
Tournament of Champions
Rome: People need entertainment. People crave nostalgia. Yes, there’s the Net; yes, there’s Elflines Online. But for the hardcore, the truly grok, there’s only one drug that works: collectible card games. Nobody’s been making those cards for decades. Many of them were destroyed, either in the big bang or what came after. But some survived. For the elite, the best of the best, the geek beyond geek, a Black Lotus is worth more than a mint condition Action Comics #1. Up until now, card collectors have battled in private matches, the backrooms of brick-and-mortar stores, but the dream’s always been to recreate the grand tournaments of old.
Our protagonists: fixers, dealers, schemers, fakers, artists both bullshit and realshit. Sometimes they go out and Indiana Jones their way to a lost CCG collection buried deep in some forgotten pit. Or perhaps they liberate cards from those too gauche to own them. They might fake up whatever they need to make up. Whatever the case may be, they’re now in the enviable (well …) position of being the only ones in Night City with enough nerd clout to be able to organize a city-wide tournament. But how? Where? Who’ll be the judge? In a world without heroes, do these sad sacks have it in them to fake it till they make it?
Main activities: treasure hunting, heists, wheeling-dealing.
Rome: People need to believe. Religion is the opiate of the masses, so they say. But is it bad to spread a little hope, even if you don’t believe in yourself? Those with faith, and those without, struggle with the day-to-day and their personal demons. They cry out. They act out. The faith bunco has kept fraudsters in bucks since time immemorial. What’s one more lie in a world that’s full of them? Except this time maybe it isn’t a lie; there might be a grain of truth in that teeming mass of misinformation. Not that anyone wants to believe that, mind you; the truth is so overrated …
What happens if a fraudster finds faith? What happens if there really are demons out there?
Our protagonists: fakers, exorcists for hire, occultists in over their head. Against them: Maybe nothing but guilty consciences. Or perhaps the heirs of MKUltra, Uncle Sam’s mind control program – or maybe there really is a Legion hiding inside that swine after all …
Founded in 1966, the NYPD Movie/TV Unit was the first of its kind in the country. Because of its relationship with the NYPD, the unit has the greatest knowledge on how to assist productions, particularly with complex shooting situations, in a city that is dense with vehicular and pedestrian traffic.
Whether it conducts filming on bridges, highways, or busy intersections, the unit controls traffic to ensure that companies can get shots that may otherwise be impossible. It also oversees staged "crime scenes" used in the filming of the city's many police-related shows, such as Law & Order and Third Watch. The unit's responsibilities do not end there; the unit also monitors child work permits, stunts, prop firearms, placement of equipment, pedestrian safety, and parking.
While filming on busy New York City streets presents countless challenges, the unit has, over the years, developed a strong working relationship with the film industry. The unit makes an effort to ensure that New York City remains a popular location for filming. Its based in the Sunset Park neighborhood of Brooklyn.
Until the election of Mayor Rudolph Giuliani in 1994, the unit occasionally assisted with pornographic productions. But Giuliani put a stop to this as part of his effort to clean up the streets of New York City. In 1997, porn producer Michael Lucas filed a lawsuit against the Police Department and Giuliani citing discriminating practices used by the Movie/TV Unit against porn productions. The lawsuit was dismissed in September 1998 when a district judge granted a motion to dismiss on behalf of the NYPD.
Rome: Fame, fortune, glitz and glamour. It's a hero's life in the NCPD. All the world knows it. All the world sees the TV shows, the newsreels, the braindances. Someone's got to make sure all those shoots take place with as little drama as possible - well, unplanned drama, at least. Who is that lucky someone? Why, you! Yes, you will have to pull security duty on a porno from time to time (oh, the humanity) and yes, you will have to put up with every would-be Spielberg who happened to convince daddy to bankroll their student project. But the possibilities! You might be a background extra in Manic Slaughterhouse Four! You might get a fleeting appearance on the news! You might find out about the subliminal ... no, better not find out about that, it could be career-ending.
Protagonists: NCPD, medias, rockers - anyone who might look good in a uniform and at least knows the rudiments of cinematography.
Main Activities: security, photoshoots, chases both fake and real, diplomacy both street and corporate.
