Well, here's my credo. If it doesn't work for you, that's cool. If it does, that's cool too. If you think I am misusing the terms "Muy" or "Macho" we will simply have to duel to the death with sledgehammers. It's the only way.
The ¡Muy Macho! Credo
I am ¡Muy Macho! I am tough enough to take anything you can dish out, and come back for more with a smile. I don't flinch. I jut my shapely chin forward and tap it lightly, I want you to take your best shot. And when you hit me I want it to hurt. I don't pretend it doesn't hurt. I revel in the fact that it hurts, and I can take it. Can you say the same?
I am ¡Muy Macho! I don't want any easy victory. Don't softball me. I want your biggest challenge. If I fail, I fail, but I will not wimp out. Can you say the same?
I am ¡Muy Macho! I will never surrender. No matter how bad it gets, I know I'm going to win. I'm just that damn cool. Up to the very last moment when defeat actually grabs me by the throat and shakes, I will keep fighting, keep striving. Can you say the same?
I am ¡Muy Macho! I am not a whiner. When you hurt me, that's cool. When you challenge me, that's cool. When you defeat me, that's cool. I respect and thank you for opposing me that hard. I would not have you act any other way. Can you say the same?
I am ¡Muy Macho! I am not a spectator. I go out and seek pain and challenge and victory. You cannot stop me. You cannot keep me from these things. I will not stay still, and I will not wait for a better time. These are my goals, and I will pursue them at every moment. Can you say the same?
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Superhero roleplaying with heart: Capes!
Founding Member: Cabal of the Big Agenda
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There's a woman in my group that tends to play like that. Especially her recent Warhammer character. Our strategy planning sessions usually started with "ok, so Kaia is going to go charging straight up the middle towards the biggest bad/innocent people who need saving. What are the rest of us going to do to handle the particulars of this situation?"
Our strategy planning sessions usually started with "ok, so Kaia is going to go charging straight up the middle towards the biggest bad/innocent people who need saving. What are the rest of us going to do to handle the particulars of this situation?"
Are folks happy with that, or would they rather that she toned down her Macho? Or, alternately, do they wish that they too could be as Macho as she?
I have a theory that ¡Muy Macho! is infectious, but maybe it's just the groups I play with.
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Superhero roleplaying with heart: Capes!
Founding Member: Cabal of the Big Agenda
Show your gaming love: Go-Play Keychains
Played a Dwarven Slayer in a 1E WHFRP campaign that played according to that exact credo.
No retreat, no surrender, just a nihilistic devotion to purging evil at the end of my Axe.
After my first fight, I was down to one wound and waist deep in dead beastmen. A bit of plot exposition told my character the rest of the beastmen and mutants were preparing to sacrifice a girl to the chaos lords down the path to my left.
The rest of the party started mulling this information, and I just walked off. No wound binding, no rest, not even cleaning the gore off my axe or armor, just walked toward a fight that if it was anything like the one I just left, would kill me deader than disco. Thankfully, the group manned up, and despite a couple of crits, my Dwarf was still standing at the end.
He didn't meet his end until around 12 sessions later, while being attacked by a huge, mutated troll. Two heads, huge lobster claw, scorpion tail, acidic blood... it were a bit nasty.
The wizard created some sort of protective field, then botched a fear test and was stuck in place. The rest of the team was unwilling to leave the protective field, and kept calling for the Slayer to fall back into said field.
Now, mechanically, I /knew/ falling into the field was what I needed to do. I also knew that I wasn't going to survive this fight solo. It was basically an 'end boss' who was designed to fuck up a full party of adventurers.
But I was playing a goddamned Dwarven Troll Slayer. The entire point of the character type is to die in that situation. I stood firm, going Mano a Mano with the beasty. I used my dodge on the tail, parried the lobster claw, and just counted on toughness and armor to get me through his other /3/ attacks while hacking as hard as I could with my spiffy keen axe.
5 bloody rounds I fought this thing with the rest of the party just watching. I've managed to cleave into one of it's heads, but it's still coming strong, and spraying me with it's acidic blood. Just then, I missed a dodge and the GM's damage die exploded. Knowing full well this crit would probably kill me, I announced I've two fate points left, and that I'm not worried about surviving. I was just taking this troll to hell with me.
The tail lanced me through the stomach and erupted out my back then the troll lifted me into the air, glaring at me with it's one good head. The rest of the party finally rushed out, laying into the beast with swords and spears. It latched it's claw around my torso and began squeezing and I heard my ribs popping and cracking. Summoning the last vestiges of his strength, my Slayer lashed out with his axe, and cleft the beast's remaining head. It dropped me, thrashing about blindly. Gripping the axe firmly as his skin melted away from the acid, the slayer leapt into the air, and buried his axe into the beast's torso, cleaving it clear in twain.
The resulting flood of acid engulfed the slayer, and when the vapours cleared, all that remained was his ancestoral axe and breastplate, shining and spotless under the tunnel's torchlight.
Yeah, it felt good.
__________________ Right now, my penis is acting as the mightly stabilizing line for a transatlantic fiber optic bundle. And making the midgard serpent think he has a twin brother. - The Ever Humble Curt.
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