Beds Needed in Shelter for Homeless RPG Bloggers

The first thing that hits you, even before the smell, is the pervasive feeling of despair.

Or at least, that's the first thing I notice when I step into Saint Morrigon's Mission, a shelter and kitchen many consider to be the last place where Star Trek-focussed RPG bloggers can get a meal, a warm bed, and a wi-fi connection.

I spoke briefly with Jane Sinclair, the one-woman team who single-handedly runs Saint Morrigon's. 

"Look at all these poor souls," Jane said, gesturing to rows after rows of beds filled with people typing away on their phones. "It seems wherever they go, they do something that pisses someone off. Within a few days, they're banned."

I spoke briefly with one of the people living at Saint Morrigon’s. "I show up, post a few articles, and within a week I’m on the streets!" said a person identified as Major Tom. He showed me some of his work and I understood why. To verify my understanding, I tracked down a few of those in charge of RPG networks.

"They’re a danger to the public good," said one identified only as KTF. "Most of my players get angry when they read the articles, and an angry writer is a bad writer!"

Amanda Rose was a bit more lenient. "His articles are crap, but he skewers all the right people." That’s what she told me when we first spoke two weeks ago. Since then, Major Tom and his staff were evicted from Ms. Rose’s website too. When I followed up, the only thing she said was "He knows what he did."

I tried to get a comment from the head of Delta Fleet, but was turned away by an extremely zealous guard. When I woke up the next day, I found I had one fewer Discord servers on my account. 

One game manager, who spoke with me on condition of anonymity, said he likes the articles. "I can't afford to be associated with him," he explained from behind a shadow and through a voice-changing machine he brought himself. "But I love most Major Tom articles. Sometimes they're stupid, but most of the time they're pretty funny. I chuckle a bit, I guess.” He then looked side to side, as if checking that the coast remained clear. "But if I say anything complimentary, I'm sure to end up at Saint Morrigon's, too," he whispered. He then immediately went to a different table and started writing on his tablet, ignoring me completely.

So here he is now, on an uncomfortable mattress at a homeless shelter, scrambling to find an audience as people continue to kick him and those like him from their servers. Major Tom continues to write his articles. Next to him sits Lieutenant Dan, in a torn Starfleet uniform three generations old, laughing at the jokes he’s coming up with. Elsewhere on the internet, a few people laugh, most scowl, and enough of the latter exercise their rights to remove him from their property.

One day, he may change. He may decide he wants to play with the others. He’ll turn a new leaf, shut down his Outpost 42 website, say goodbye to his dozen loyal readers, and apply to a sim. But as I look at him and his writing partner, I can tell that they’re in too deep. Nothing short of complete withdrawal from the internet will break their habit. Addicted to the satire and unable to keep a roof over their head, they will continue writing until they inevitably bite the hand that literally feeds them, making some joke at Saint Morrigon’s expense.

"But it will be worth it!" Tom said, as he hit ‘publish’ on his and Tom’s latest article. "We’ll get a new reader this time! I’m sure of it!"

I silently hope that his Baker’s Dozen loyal readership knows how he lives. What it’s costing him. And what the long term consequence will undoubtedly be.

****

This was my entry for the Outpost42.com satire challenge. I enjoy a lot of the (extremely niche but often funny) articles that get published there, and when the lead writer opened himself up for a satire challenge, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try my hand at writing Online Star Trek Roleplaying Game satire.