The Coffin Club

Jessica Estes
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The Coffin Club is an actual-play podcast of friends recording their games to share with others. We play the games we want to play, tell the stories we want to tell and see what emerges in the process of collaboration.

  1. 2d ago

    Salvage Union: Firebrands Part Two

    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. "F**k, 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 f****d 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

  2. Sep 18

    Salvage Union: Firebrands Part One

    "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

  3. Sep 11

    Salvage Union: Blackwell Part Four

    "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, f**k 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." "F**k 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.*" "F**k 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

  4. Sep 4

    Salvage Union: Blackwell Part Three

    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

  5. Aug 28

    Salvage Union: Blackwell Part Two

    Broil remained silent until four more cards joined their sibling in the hat. No clearing of his throat, no preamble. "This is what it can be like, forever. You and I are special, all us former Terrans; we live until we choose not to. Time stops meaning anything. In here? It means even less. They have me watching you for two reasons. First: so you don't go crazy from isolation. Doesn't work, plus it's not helpful or good for you. I'm your lifeline to the outside world. Second: we've got a lot of monitors. I am, hands down, the most patient." His smile was confident. "I have opinions on ranked competitive grass growing, I can make paint drying into an epic poem. I can keep my head in here, whether or not you open your mouth or not." Wrench stared at him. His grip hadn't loosened on his knees at all. He no longer felt hunger, or fatigue, or even lactic acid in his muscles from this position. Nothing at all, unless he thought about it, and even then. Memories of past experiences, recalled through a filter. Broil continued. "Tell me what's on your mind. Tell me where you've been. Ten thousand years is a long time to have been a Trooper. If you have to tell me in real time? I can listen and wait. You want to figure out how to alter this place? I can be persuaded to teach you. You and I can do a lot together in here. But. You don't get to leave. Not with how you are right now. You're in with the Angels now, bud. You want out of the machine? Earn your wings." Wrench coughed hard and spat at Broil. It passed harmlessly through the chuckling man. "Have it your way, then." Broil fanned out the remaining cards and sighed. "You want to pick the ones I throw next, or nah." Wrench huddled closer to his knees, and Broil nodded and resumed practicing his throwing. Broil threw the entire deck into the hat, twice, before Wrench spoke again. "Who are the Angels." The monitor's lips pursed in a knowing smile. "Well." https://thecoffin.club

  6. Aug 21

    Salvage Union: Blackwell Part One

    "Lieutenant Wrench. 3202133." "Yep. You sure are, bud." The two of them sat in a plain, empty apartment, right on the floor. Wrench held his knees tight against his enormous frame, back to the wall, posted up in the corner. His eyes were locked on his roommate, a man who called himself Broil. Broil clearly wasn't TEF anymore, if he ever was one. Bald head, slim build, curious eyes, small hands. A comfortable set of robes and slippers. And here, wherever this was, Broil had let himself in, sat across from Wrench, plucked a bowler hat and a deck of playing cards from thin air, and set to trying to flick the cards into the up-turned hat. "How'd you do that." he'd asked. "We're in a virtual space. I'm pretty good at maneuvering it." was the response. "How's the TEF been treating you?" "Lieutenant Wrench. 3202133." was his response. There wasn't a lot of talking between them. Broil made overtures and Wrench would respond with name and number. Wrench asked questions and Broil would answer them as if it was self-evident and not follow-up unless prodded. In short: he was on the Diamond of Mankind. He was in the hands of the great traitors. His physical body was gone. He was an uploaded consciousness; he'd been seized in the confusion on the drop on Miller by those alien pilots. He was wholly at the mercy of Sparky and Sixty-Nine and all those f*****g Steward cultists. And all Broil focused on was trying to flick cards into a hat. He tried a variety of different techniques, angles. The closest he got was holding the card vertically and sort of chopping down with the flick of the wrist. Driving the momentum like that gave it power, precision, but was prone to wobble and coming up short. Wrench was about to say something else when, suddenly, the Eight of Diamonds sailed right into the hat. Broil let out a sharp, short, self-satisfied laugh, a "ha!", and smiled to himself. Then he picked up the cards, shuffled the deck, and kept going with the remaining cards. https://thecoffin.club

  7. Aug 14

    Salvage Union: Aspirate Part Seven

    "Ohhhhh my god you're being so dense, just listen to me, okay? So Thomas and Aaron were dating this guy, Marrow, and were like bringing him into the polycule, right? So they've got him over for dinner, they're roasting lizard, you know how they do, and they're like "so which settlement do you live in?" and Marrow's like "oh I live out in Greenfield". And Louise is like "oh I heard Greenfield is kind of a s******e from the beanstalk runoff contaminating the ground after it fell" and, like. Okay. We don't have time to unpack, like, her approaching them with that, like f**k Louise sometimes for real, yeah? But then Marrow looks at her and is like "oh the beanstalk never fell, that was a psyop". Right? So like congrats, that's what dinner's all about now. Thomas and Aaron brought in a f*****g Fall Truther. And like they're not even cute but y'know, not my type. But also like whaaaaat the f**k, guys? Like it takes a certain level of out-of-touch to sincerely hold that as a belief, right? And, like, I don't want to jump on Thomas and Aaron and, like, talk shit about them. Everyone already is. But like come on guys! The sex can't be that good! Oh, like, how it fell? Tripartite collision in low-orbit due to, like, overlapping orbital schedules for satellites being overlooked, I think? It's really noticeable in the wounds around the points of severance and the directions the pieces landed in. It's like really cool if you're into it but it also really sucks y'know?" https://thecoffin.club

  8. Aug 7

    Salvage Union: Aspirate Part Six

    "Pilot understands the question. Question is irrelevant. There is only the data for Pilot to interpret. There is only the field of battle. The inside of Lovely. That is all that matters, yes. How Pilot came to this war does not matter. Pilot can speak of war, yes. They don't like it when Pilot does but Pilot can. Pilot can tell you what it would have done if it was told to destroy the Beanstalk. ...it didn't. Pilot was not yet born. And it would make many angry at Pilot. Don't want that. Pilot is good. Pilot listens. Promise. Boren. Selvich. Whitespring. Massily. Selvich should not have invaded Boren. Massily should have allied with Boren. Whitespring should have allied with Selvich. Complimentary, complimentary. Would not admit it at the time. But, similar, similar. Happened anyway, sort of. All fell. All became corpos. Wasteful, wasteful. Beautiful machines thrown away and left to rot. Could have been two states. No outright war. Protect civilians. Rebuild, rebuild. Tension, yes, but tension is tension. Pilot understands tension. Pilot understands when to shoot and when to wait. Stupid, stupid generals. Need Priest to tell them what to do, ha ha. Like Pilot. Pilot tells joke. Generals unworthy of Priest's grace. Of knowing Lovely. Stupid, stupid generals. Pilot could be flying in the stars instead of Windspear. Short-sighted and stupid. One day Pilot will fly all the way up there. It will be a beautiful day." https://thecoffin.club

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About

The Coffin Club is an actual-play podcast of friends recording their games to share with others. We play the games we want to play, tell the stories we want to tell and see what emerges in the process of collaboration.

Information

  • Creator
    Jessica Estes
  • Years Active
    2024 - 2026
  • Episodes
    100
  • Rating
    Explicit
  • Copyright
    © 2024
  • Show Website
    The Coffin Club