The Coffin Club

For our second player vs. player event, we're popping bottles on both sides of the field with the Bootleggers vs. Snake Oilers. Both have sipped from that sweet tub-brewed ambrosia at one point or another. Time will tell if they only drank from its waters or if they were dipped like an alchemical Achilles put on the field to play some damn ball. Stay tuned, and remember: if baseball lasts for longer than four hours, consult a doctor! https://thecoffin.club

It's the Halloween special, and we're playing Tails You Lose again, but with Grint this time! Four mercenaries are entrusted with a grim wetworks mission that should be a milk run, and absolutely isn't. Get Tails You Lose here. https://thecoffin.club

Let's kick this tournament off with some player vs. player exhibition: the Barretville Sharons vs. the Faraway Wardens! Two teams, alike in purpose and message, nevertheless at odds. Will this be another step in the Wardens' grand plan, or are the Sharons poised for that early score? Listen to find out. https://thecoffin.club

Welcome one and all to our inaugral game of Deadball 2e! Tonight, the crew run through a sample game to get a handle on the rules and flow of the system, using some premade teams and taking turns. It's Jess as the Meridian Mourning Doves vs. the combined might of Bastion, Grint, Lavender and Sophie as the Broad Street Peacocks in tonight's scrimmage! https://thecoffin.club

Jess runs a game she wrote with the help of a friend, and it's Bea, Lavender and Sophie running for their lives in a scenario written by Jess. Three urbexers go hunting for a major find in the foundations of an old amusement park and follow the siren's light to the source. It's up to chance to see if they get out alive or not. It's "Tails You Lose"! For more information on the game, check it out here: https://hexjellyfish.itch.io/tails-you-lose https://thecoffin.club

The crew talks about what it means to be a sequel series of 3:16, the experience of playing/running Salvage Union, highlights, characters and more. https://thecoffin.club

Broil sat across from Atlas, and God sat hunched over a table with a sandwich in hand. He was getting lettuce and sauce everywhere. "Pass me a napkin?" he asked. Broil obliged. "Thanks. So, the newest conscript needs more time to cook?" "Yes sir." Atlas dabbed his lips with a napkin. "Shit. Safe estimate...250 years maximum. When was the last time we brought in a loose Trooper?" "Before we seeded Lambent-7." God snorted. "Fuck, alright, sure, that was...four thousand years ago?" "Five thousand, six hundred and nine." "Sure. 250 years? Fine. Whatever he knows is going to be recent enough even with that much of a time stamp on it." Atlas shook his head. "I don't know why I thought he'd just crack from eight months with you. My sense of scale is so fucked at this point, y'know? Don't get old, Broil." God smiled slightly and Broil chuckled. Broil was an early convert to the Angels; the person they had been was one of the original uploads. "How's the lady, sir?" "Good. She didn't do a lot but she had a good time down there. She thinks they're going to be a good addition if they want in." "Really?" "Yep. We may have to get in there and shut down that Primaria instance, but...she says they've got the right sort of spirit, you know?" "Yes sir. Good to hear." "Sometimes things work out without needing to touch them." He wiped his lips again. "So." "So?" "Successful reconnection to a lost colony. New source of intel in the interrogation chair. Didn't have to back my wife up from a past scan. And they're willing to let us fly in and talk to their world nations, make our case. I'd call that a win." Broil paused, pursed their lips, thought and nodded. "Yes sir." "Hey, whoa, if you disagree..." Atlas began. He paused as a splash of sauce ended up on his lapel and sighed. "Shit. Anyway." "No, you're right sir. Just feels a little silly to put it...succinctly." Atlas shrugged and ran his finger over the stain, wiping it out immediately. "Well. A win is a win, no matter how small." https://thecoffin.club

"You're a little puzzle box, aren't you." Broil's smile was warm. Their tone was joking. It made Wrench's skin crawl. The room was more appointed at this point; a bed to lie on, cushions to sit on, sheets, a fan, books. Small things, small comforts. Wrench wanted to be anywhere else. He wanted to grab Broil's neck and squeeze and shake until he broke every bone and blood vessel in their head. Instead he lay down on the bed, curled up and breathing hard. Broil sat on their cushion, fiddled with the deck of cards and waited. "I can leave you alone if you want. Problem is, if I go, leave you unsupervised, then you have to sleep for a while." Wrench didn't say anything. He willed with every fiber of his body that Broil would drop dead. He wished he could say anything at all to make it stop. He thought about begging for the Angel to stay, to ensure he was still here, still real. He would do anything, say anything to ensure there would be nothing lost in the gaps between now and then. He said nothing and stared at the wall, his own thoughts burning inside of him like a lit coal. Broil shuffled the cards and started building a tower again. When it was complete, they started again. After the seventh tower, Wrench kicked a foot out. "Leave me alone." Broil nodded, dusted their hands off and drew the cards back into their hands right up off the floor. "Can do. I'll see you again when you're ready to talk some more. It's just like going to sleep. Promise." Wrench didn't even see them leave. He blinked once, twice, three times, and then didn't open his eyes again. https://thecoffin.club 

"I learned how to fix vehicles in basic. Three for me." "KP duty for me. Wasn't good at it. Two for me." "We have machines for that." "The old boss was a slave to image, what can I say." "Never married. Tried. Ordered a wife. It didn't...work. Four for me." "Dislocated both my arms once as a child. Three points." "Oh, fuck yes. Uh. Shit. I got knocked off a building once, when I was a teen, and nearly died. They had to rebuild everything, and I spent a year in the hospital. Best year of my life. Five points." "Wow, well done. Let's see. Used to stick chewing gum on public seats, see who would get caught. Three for me." "Shit. I...pass." "Nope. No passing." "Fuck you. Pass." "The cards are the cards, man, say anything that comes to mind." "...I poisoned my older sister once." "Wow." "Yeah." "Accident?" "I don't want to talk about it." "Did she live?" "I said-" "You also said *once.*" "Fuck you." "Alright, alright. How many points was that?" "..." "How many points." "...three." "Three for you, four for me. I had a misfire later on. Lost my right arm. Got it back in here. I can still...feel the difference though, if that makes sense." "..." "Your play." "I don't want to." "Alright. We can sit here until you do." "I'm not playing anymore." "I heard you. And I can wait." https://thecoffin.club

It was less complicated than he expected. An Angel was someone who chose to forsake the TEF and commit themselves to undoing the damage done, act as the messenger or weapon of Atlas and Argenta. It was all in vague terms, forsaking, committing. Wrench rolled the ideas around in his mind, but kept his mouth shut for a while longer. Broil had started teaching him card games. That was taking up his attention these days. "It's simple." Broil shuffled the cards as easy as blinking. "We each get two cards. I'll deal three to the middle all in a row. Each card has a meaning defined by the color and number. You have to see how many you can thread together in a sort of sentence based on a memory and tell me what it means. I'll do the same. We keep track of how many cards we use, and you can use them in any order, but you need to use one from your hand at least. Every card used gets you a point." "This is so stupid." Wrench muttered. "Let's just play blackjack." Broil didn't break his stride. "Every time one of us gets 20 points, we make a change to this space. You can stonewall me all you want, but I'm at least playing until I get a chair to sit on. Hell, a cushion." He laughed and fanned the cards out before snapping them together, dealing two face-down before the rest. Wrench grimaced. The cards all had an overlay instead of the normal faces. No playing ignorant to get out of it. In his hand: Parent, Bad Dream. On the floor: Gun, Food, Game. He tapped his choices and stared. "Got mine. You got yours?" He flipped over Parent. "My mom used to make grilled cheeses for me and my siblings." The words felt stupid as they left his mouth, but he saw two points raise above his head and he shrugged. "Good opening." Broil flipped over Limb and Death. "When I was in Glyph Company, another trooper got dismembered and eaten in front of me." His face was calm as four points went up over his. "Food, Game, Limb, Death. Your turn." He stared at the numbers and watched the cards. https://thecoffin.club