It’s been a long time, but back in those hazy, halcyon days of high school and college gaming, it wasn’t unusual for members of my gaming groups to trade turns game mastering — something I’ve lamented before is that I can’t seem to find people who can find the time (or more likely the wherewithal to put in the time) to run a game that I can play in. Back then, we didn’t just trade out GMing, we would swap into that role in the same campaign, allowing whomever was stepping out of the lead slot to play. We would often still play our character as a favored NPC — a frequent lament on other gaming blogs, the GMs favorite NPC that steal the players’ thunder. To us, it wasn’t a big deal; whoever had an adventure ready to go ran it.

The main issue for this communal campaign is similar to that of the television writing rooms of the 1970s and 1980s. Inevitably, no matter how well as character was written, there would be a few episodes where some big shot author or some one off writer would come in and the characters or the flavor of the show would morph to fit their story they wanted to tell. The game universe would lack a certain cohesion. The greater the difference in GM style, their world view, their desired direction of the stories, the more unworkable this style of campaign becomes.

But it can work. In the late ’80s, a friend of mine and I had been pretty much the only gamers we were acquainted with in the small town we were living. We gamed a lot — nearly every night, and sometimes day and night, if we weren’t working. We got to know each other’s style of play, the kind of characters we played, and the kind of game universe we were looking for. When you spend every day together, practically, for several year you start to get into synch with each other. One of our shared loved at the time was comic books. The late 80s was when comics saw an explosion in popularity, at the same time as RPGs (and now some of those geeks are making movies — good and bad — for themselves and their friends…) and we decided to do a superhero campaign that had a high level of verisimilitude (not realism..it’s superheroes, for cryin’ out loud!) similar to what we’d read in the Wild Cards! book series (based, funnily enough on the supers campaigns of a bunch of writers out here in Albuquerque), and the angsty Marvel universe.

We had a similar political and social outlook at the time. We had similar tastes in narrative style, although they were different enough to entertain the other person, and we had a good read on the probable punchlines for the stories being told. When we added a bunch of new gamers to the mix in Philadelphia, it was pretty stellar. We could not only co-GM the game, swapping who was storytelling from one night to the next, we got so good at it, we could swap in the middle of a session. Think of it as having a bunch of writers work on the same story: the basic outlines are there, and you simply add color.

Thinking back on it, I think the simplicity of the superhero tropes, in particular the idea that each session (or issue, if you will) had a specific challenge or two for the night, and that combat was up front and center often…combat and action sequences take time, and that meant that you had a relatively simple task, say stop the villain of the night and their cohort from attacking New York. It was the outcome of the characters actions that would — as with all RPGs — write the basic lines for the next issue. But like comics having a guest writer or artist, a guest or different GM doesn’t detract from the overall campaign because each issue tends to be relatively self-contained. Episodic.

In an RPG campaign that is similarly episodic, where each session or two is a specific story that might be tied together over time by the GMs, each is able to stand on it’s own. The problem is making certain that the players and game masters are on the same general sheet of paper for what the goals and flavor of the game is to be.

This is where communal world-building like we see in games like Primetime Adventures and Smallville come in handy. The group works out their characters, group relationships, and overall theme together. This allows for the metastory or story arc to be generally understood by all. For example, I recently pitched a Supernatural campaign to my players, and suggested to one who wished to GM a Call of Chthulu-style horror campaign that we could swap GM duties. We agreed that a modern day setting would be best and that the flavor would be a bit lighter than the usual investigate evil and go mad or die style of Lovecraftian horror CoC is known for. I, and others in the group, don’t much care for it. But a game that combined, say, a Night Stalker theme with monster hunter of Supernatural would work — where horror and humor coexist. It would be more episodic — a monster of the week series that would steadily weave in a basic plot idea (probably the usual stop Armageddon thing…I understand this is the general line of story for the Supernatural series, a war between Heaven and Hell, but I havent’ seen more than a few of the early episodes.)

It’s one of several workable frameworks for having multiple game masters.

Next time: Some characters from the Supernatural campaign that might work in one of your games as PCs or NPCs.

It’s a frequently asked and commented on issue: How big/small should a gaming group be? What is the ideal size for your group?

I’ll handle the last question first. It depends on the people in your group and what you are playing.

Now that I’ve sloughed off that question, let’s address the first one. I’ve found the best for me to run games for is between three and five players, but to be honest, it depends on the nature of the campaign, the personalities of the players, and the cohesion of the characters being played. “Solo” adventures — where there is a single player and GM often work well as one-offs or for occasional play. Two players and a GM menas there’s someone else to play off of and they have support in tough action sequences and it’s my preferred minimum size group. Four is better and allows for a lot more cross character banter, more varied plotlines and “B stories” (usually focusing on one or more of the character’s weaknesses — family troubles, some aspect of their character that either provides an impediment or is brought up by the main “A plot.”) Five is where the groups start to get unwieldy, depending on the nature of the campaign, and more than that you are almost guaranteed that someone is playing fifth wheel or isn’t getting enough play time. So for me the best size is four players: I find that the most manageable size for tracking what people are doing and giving them enough spotlight in a session.

Now the ideal number might change based on the nature of the campaign or game you are playing. Big parties are best suited by games dealing with mass action — it could be the quintessential dungeon crawl, or something where mass combat is common, say a World War II game, a post-apocalyptic setting like Twilight: 2000, or even Lord of the Rings-style fantasy. there’s something for everyone to do, the action is built into the plots — “We have to take this fuel dump if we’re to make it out of these wastelands and away from the zombies…” or “We need a crack squad of men to go behind enemy lines and free the 107th from Hydra!”

For settings like modern espionage, the big group is a detriment, depending on the nature of the adventure. It’s hard to be a secret agent with five other burly, buzzcut-wearing fellows in tow. For that lone spy on a mission, one-three players is best. With this number, they can have a backup that wont draw unnecessary attention. (Think Chuck — there’s the main guy, his support, and their muscle.) For larger groups, it’s best to follow a special action team model: you would have four to six guys that work together regularly. They all have specialties, but like most spec ops teams they would have plenty of overlap. they would frequently split into twos or threes to handle aspects of the mission. For example, SAT Dervish has to take a Russian mobster out of Ciudad del Este in Paraguay. They’ve got decent SIGINT support from the local station house over in Foz de Iguazu, Brazil (NPCs run by the GM), so that they have relatively good cell phone tracking and some intercept capability. One group is surveillance on the target, one is scouting the terrain that they intend to take the target (having decided a direct raid on the bad guy’s compound is too risky, they’re going to hit him in transit.) The last group is in charge of securing vehicles and weaponry, etc., and handling the exfiltration routes. Everyone’s got something to do, and it’s all important.

So the question really isn’t always what’s the best size (outside of what the GM can best keep track of…if you can’t manage the screen time of the players effectively, you’ve got too many people.) More effective is to think about what kind of campaign you are running, or conversely how many people you have so what kind of campaign would be most efficacious for the sized group.

Black Campbell just had its second best day since I started it about two years ago. For all that visit regularly, thanks. For those that comment regularly, thanks again for makng this blog a bit more enjoyable to do.
And again, it you like what you are seeing, please take a moment to check out my novels and RPG work. Every buck means I get to spend more time writing and working on material for this blog.

I’ve often had plenty of time to research, plan, and set up for the games I game master. I’ve been doing it for three decades and the practice in getting ready, quickly, for a game has made me a lightning fast researcher and writer — which has been handy in my varied professions and in my doctoral studies. With a four-month old in the house, I’ve been surprised at how much of your useful time is eaten up with having to simply pay full attention to the kid — she needs picked up and carried around, she needs talked to and played with on the floor, she needs fed. Before you know it, ten hours have blown by and you’re exhausted…and you really haven’t done anything.

And it’s eating into my study, my professional writing, and my game prep time. So what to do? I tried to get others to GM — one decided to bail on the game he was going to run a year ago, another is just as busy and not as interested in doing it as he thought, and the new couple of gamers I tried to vet were flaky on their schedules and preparation. So once again, I’m running the games. And doing it on a lot less free time. So how to “wing it” and be successful?

First when GMing…never go full retard. That is to say, if you’re going to wing it, you still have to have something to improvise on. Like any good bit of jazz or rock, you need that three chord/basic 4-8 bar tune to work from.

Second: KISS — “Keep It Simple, Stupid.” You can improvise some of the other elements but keep the main plot simple — for example: My Hollow Earth Expedition game has been pretty straightforward. The first few episodes were an attempt to find a mellified man. They were sidetracked by Japanese agents and rival communist gangs in Shanghai. Then they get a line on the ancient monastic order/former rebels against the Qing that have the prize and they have to find the monastery in question. They find it and have to get the caskets of mellified men.

Time to throw in a twist to slow them down…I throw in a new storyline they have to address first: one of the monk/warriors had eaten some of the meelified man to heal their wounds and is infected with the evil spirit of the human confection. She is looking to wake the petrified army of teh first sovereign emperor…now they have to chase her to Xi’an and stop her from doing so, otherwise she’ll rule the universe from beyond the grave. This story is a simple capture the flag/stop the bad guy plot. Once done, they’ll be able to recover the meelified men and finish the initial adventure.

I have an upcoming Supernatural “pilot” — the characters will get together to stop a monster in Manhattan. Find it, kill it. Simple. I have been adding the bits to make the investigations more interesting, but it’s a one or two night and done deal.

Keep it simple. What’s the ending? What’s the goal or McGuffin? (The thing that motivates the story, whether important or not — like the case in the car trunk in Repo Man or Rosebud in Citizen Kane.) Who’s the bad guy and their major henchman? Where’s it happening?

This is my technique: What’s the mission? (Say, it’s stop a terrorist bomb plot.) Who’s the bad guy? (The new SPECTRE [or QUANTUM, if you must) led by Hans Yodelson. Henchman — big, bad ex-Spetnatz guy, Rostov. How do they get the lead? (An investigation into Russian mob gun running yielded it.) Beginning and ending done. Now the filler:

INTRO: give the intelligence. Action Sequence 1: Breaking into a bad guy office building. Clue 1: Reveal Yodelson’s invovlement. Action Sequence 2: Meeting Yodelson or surveilling to gain intelligence. Clue 2: Meeting with known terrorists. Action Sequence 3: Team discovered — car chase or firefight. Clue 3: If captured, the line of questioning tells there is an attack coming in a day in [pick place], or they will learn it from their pursuers. Action Sequence 4: Trying to follow terrorist to attack site. Clue 4: Something to get them in them to next action sequence. Action Sequence 5: fight in bomb location and stopping attack. Car chase to get bad guy. END: Kill/capture bad guys. If escape, next mission…

After that, I like to fill in the locations. Sometimes I actually do this first — “wouldn’t it be cool to have a base jumping sequence off that building?” or “a car chase on that alpine road would be cool.”

Basic plot: simple.

Third: Know your players. This is pretty important, period. It allows you to anticipate their most likely actions and not only plan for it. If you know the player/character has a tendency to do X, plan for it. Give them a problem/action sequence that is not their usual forte from time to time, but play to their strengths and weaknesses. If you know they love kids, put kids in danger every once in a while to direct them how you want them to go. If you know they always go after the bad guy like a guided missile, even when the baddie has to escape in that sequence, have the bad guy lead them into a trap.

Four: Steal. Steal your stories from movies, books (preferably ones they haven’t read/seen), from the news. For espionage games, I almost always get my inspiration from a story. Iraqis are busted helping Sinaloa cartel members in San Diego…go from there. Theres the bad guys. What were they moving? To where? How did you find out? Pick locations in San Diego or Tijuana…you’re 3/4rds of the way there.

Five: Keep notes. As you make up NPCs remember KISS: give them a hook — a look, skill, or a mannerism. A name. Jot it down for later — you never know when they might come in useful or the players will take to a character and want to contact them again.

Six: KISS — keep the maps simple, if you need them. Try to simply run on narrative, where you can. Use set pieces — standard office parks, high-rise buildings with the classic three corridors between two adjoining corridors on either side (you’ve been in this building…trust me.) Steel mills — operating or abandoned. Subways. Use set pieces from movies: “It’s like that classic James Bond bad guy set up — the two levels with staircases with no handrails and a central metal support for the steps, the ceiling’s oval and higher on one side, bridge over a small stream running through the middle of the room…” “It’s a loading crane like the one from the end of The Losers…

There’s plenty of ways to wing it, but the prep time on an adventure like the one above averages me 30 minute to two hours, depending on complexity of the plotline. Find something that catches you imagination, drop the basics in (villain and villain’s nefarious plan), add cool locations or chase/combat sequences. Shake. Run.

A quick perusal of this blog will quickly show that I’m a fan of the original Cortex system. While I liked the original Serentiy rules, I think the move from traits and complications from die shifts to actual dice ratings was a good idea. Since then, I’ve thought this one of the more elegant and flexible RPG mechanics I’ve seen. It has a few flaws for things like superheroes, but that’s not insurmountable.

The latest set of rules, “Cortex Plus”, was created for the Leverage and Smallville games and imported a lot of ideas from FATE to Cortex. Again, a perusal of the blog will show I’m not a fan of this move…however, I had thought that elements could be brought in to make the GMs job easier.

One place this shines is in the idea of “extras” — the bit players in the game from the gal running the grociery store you have a throw down in to the bad guys’ mooks. Mooks rules are particularly useful in settings like pulp games, Star Wars for stormtroopers, etc., or even for espionage games where you have to storm the volcano base and go through a $#!tsotrm of baddies to get to the real altercation with the privileged henchman and master villain.

Here’s an idea for how to create mooks/extras in your Cortex Classic (using cane sugar, not that corn syrup crap!) using some of the ideas from Cortex Plus (just 1 calorie…not Cortex enough):

Extras are given a general competence rating on how “bad ass” they are, from d4 to d12. It’s assumed there aren’t going to be extras with a d2, because beating up on an infant is uncool. d10 and higher should be reserved for big animals — lions, tigers, and bears or the like. The average bad guy should be d6. the slightly better than average bad guy, computer jockey you’ve hired, etc. d8. They then get a skill/descriptor die. This could be something like “Brick Shithouse” for that massive knuckle-dragger the bad guy has brought in to get you to sell your place to him — Say he has a d10 in Brick Shithouse. This is not overly competent on most things [d6], but when it comes to asskicking his descriptor counts it’s d6+d10. If he’s “Martial Arts Expert” — you can expect that his descriptor counts for Unarmed Combat and Melee Combat, and maybe covert (if he’s a ninja!)

Assume mooks have a 12 Life Points, but that when they take 6 points they’ve either unconscious or stunned enough they’re not a problem (unless the scene calls for it.) A mook like Brick Shithouse would have 16…because he’s built like a brick shithouse.

A few examples:

Fearsome Housecat: d4 for anything except being fearsome — then it’s 2d4 for intimidation and unarmed combat.

Fat Hacker Kid: d4 for anything but Hacking and Comic Book/Sci-fi Knowledge tests, then it’s d4+d10

Late-Night Security Guard: d6 and for perception tests 2d6.

Grizzly Bear: d12 plus d8 in killing your @$$.

Stormtrooper Nazi or the Star Wars kind: d6 and d6 in combat or chase related skills.

SPECTRE volcano base guards: d6 and d6 in combat and not much else.

 

So far, I’ve very little to complain about with the new OS X upgrade save one thing…Apple fix the f#$king issue where the wifi drops coming out of sleep. Check your damned support boards — it’s happening on MacBooks, Airs, and iMacs. When the computer goes to sleep, 4 thimes out of 5 it drops the wifi connection; it’s even more ornery if you’ve switched locations.

Fix the problem! It’s really damned annoying.

Tower of the Archmage is hosting this month’s RPG Blog Carnival with the topic “Animals in RPGs”…so let’s jump in!

Animals have been companions to humans since time immemorial — from work animals to pets, people surround themselves with these creatures. They care for them, name them, and sometimes view them as part of the family. Who hasn’t gotten at least a bit misty when a family dog or cat dies? Before cars, horses weren’t just your transport, they were your companion — selling a prized horse just didn’t happen unless you fell on hard times. Farm animals might be less “familial” for people, but they were no les important — they were your food or your money made incarnate in noise and crap.

Yet, outside of fable-based games like Mouse Guard how often do animals play an important role in role playing games. Yeah, you ride your horse to the dungeon…then what? A horse doesn’t do so well in a 10×10′ room with other people and some nasty…in fact, the horse can, at that point, become a seriously dangerous liability. I’ve seen people buy a falcon in a D&D campaign, only to forget it’s even on the sheet; they don’t know how to use it as an item, so it gets forgotten with those climbing stakes until last minute.

If animals are so important in most peoples’ real lives, why do they disappear in the game world?

One reason is obvious: Who’s playing the dog? Is the dog an NPC? Is he the GM’s responsibility? Tracking the creature’s stats, actions, and location can be distracting from the main character, thinks Runeslinger. (Good guy, by the way; check out his blog!)

The trick, if the character is managing his animal companion, is not to think of the creature as separate from him, necessarily, but an extension, a familiar… I have a cat named Vishnu that knows my moods well – he knows when to try and comfort, he warns me when my infant daughter is waking up with a meow and a nose on the eyelid, he eats bugs… So make the critter an extension of your character.

We had a Serenity campaign where one of the characters had a shepherd mutt named Asshole. He picked him up as a pup in the Unification War, and the dog grew up through the combat. It warned the characters of intruders, of things not right with the ship (he heard strange noises and prodded the engineer awake), he attacked villains, he crapped all over the ship providing comic relief…he was useful. The players originally hated Asshole, then grew to love him. When he got injured by a thug, they made that person their sole focus of ire for an adventure. The dog provided story.

I had a ferret in an old DD campaign that would hunt rabbits and other things for the character. That’s how he got his meals when they needed meat. I would forget about him periodically, until he was killed by an arrow. He stopped the arrow, actually, and saved the character. He was useful. and I made the OIQ (orc in question) pay for it dearly. It provided motivation and story.

“I find I prefer the understanding that the animal companion is a specialized form of NPC and as such is not merely a tool for the player, but a being with whom the character has a close and very personal relationship…” opines Runeslinger. If the GM is running the animal, it can get lost in the shuffle of NPCs…hell, major NPCs have gotten lost in the shuffle when running a game. “Say…wasn’t Trapp Sommers with us?” Oops! But if the GM infuses the animal with its own character (I played Asshole as a bit stupid, lovable, and codependent on his owner, and had a ball with him…so to speak.)

If they have a purpose, they’re less likely to forget them. In the current Battlestar Galactica campaign, the characters are serving in Aegis, a light battlestar that is new off the line. During construction of the ship, a cat somehow got onboard and has been with her ever since. The crew named it Kevin and we learned from the previous commander that Kevin is considered not just the mascot of the ship, but her good luck charm. They had put Kevin off and within days suffered major engine failure. When Kevin was brought aboard once more from Scorpia yards, things just seemed to work themselves out…or so the crew says. Kevin is, in many ways, the living expression of the ship for the characters to become attached to. He’s fat, cantankerous, and shows up in places he shouldn’t be…but the characters have taken to him already.

Not every campaign requires a pet companion. The sword & sorcery genre is a good one for having animals that hunt for you, or that you ride from place to place. So are Victorian-period/Western games: the English are crazy for their dogs and often would drag them on holidays (or adventures) — how the hell did Tintin get out of half his scrapes? Dogs are useful for cowboys in herding or warning of danger. And they are good companions. In space-based campaigns, a dog or cat might not be the best addition. For one, the dander and loose fur get in the air filtration systems…it’s a mess! they may not always be appropriate, but they can add to the fun.

Time to take on one of the more popular game systems out there: Savage Worlds. Like FATE, SW has a lot of adherents who talk the system up incessantly, and being adverse to hype, I’ve found myself trying to avoid both the systems (especially after FATE started creeping into other systems like Cortex. “You’ll like it, it’s just like the system…but with all the good bits of FATE added!”) I finally decided to do a review after reading this piece on Savage Worlds.

I finally got a chance to play in a Cortex game a few months back and posted the character I’d made on the site (search Trapp Sommers — I’m too lazy to link today.) Here’s my first impressions: it’s quick and stripped down, and I tend to like that. That said, I hate the single die and “wild die” mechanic; I hate the exploding die mechanic (that’s where, if you roll a 6 in this case, you get to keep rerolling that die. Every 6 allows you to keep doing it…) I also find the attribute or skill test makes no sense if you have  better trait than skill. Why roll a d6 for my firearms skill, if my Agility is a d8? (And that is my response to the criticism of Cortex in the above linked blog post — you’re rolling just as many dice and often different types. Your criticism seems based on a cursory read of the rules. Now that I’ve defended my current favorite system like some pathetic fanboy…which I guess I am…onward!)

I suspect most of my disdain for the single die is that most of the systems I’ve played either have you roll your attribute+skill in some combo — either a die rating for each, or a die test onto which the combination of attribute+skill add. So take that as you will; it makes for a swift test resolution…until you hit combat. Then Pinnacle adds a deck of cards for initiative. I love the James Bond system as anyone who reads this blog knows. The d6 for initiative but d100 for everything else always felt clumsy; this is more so.

However, outside of those two complaints, the SW experience was fairly solid. As a generic system, it’s pretty good — you can easily build the characters you want, if you take “experience” at the creation point. there’s enough examples of things to do almost any genre on the fly. and it is certainly less math and rule-intensive than GURPS, lacks the die step mechanic of Cortex that some find difficult, and it’s not d20. And for $10 for the Explorer’s Edition, it’s worth a look.

Most of us want to play big, strappin’, competent characters — the clever mage, the powerful fighter, the ultra-suave spy, the tough or  sexy femme fatale…but sometimes, stepping out of the usual can provide the player and group with a bit of fun. One thing I’ve rarely seen people rush to play is a child. Not a toddler, mind you, but the pre-teen/teenager.

Why would anyone want to play a kid? 1) In the case of prepubescents, and unless you’re a member of NAMBLA or B4U-ACT, it removes the sexual aspects from the character. This is especially nice for the younger player, or for that newbie that doesn’t want to get wrapped up in the weirdness of intercharacter relationships. 2) Children provide both particular challenges and benefits in many settings, that aren’t the case with most adult characters. 3) It makes the players have to think and work at the play…and that’s fun!

Point 1: My wife recently started playing. She’s new to gaming and she’s seems a bit uncomfortable with the idea of inter-character relationships (but I could be reading into things.) Her favorite character was a toss-off, a recovered character from a then-abortive campaign set in 1936 China (now resurrected and running well): “Shanghai Sally” — an 11 year old street urchin and thief that works for one of the other characters. There’s no sexual tension between her and the other characters, there’s no distraction with boys, etc…she’s all about the fun and the score.

Point 2: Sally provides some unexpected benefits to the player. As a child in a city full of homeless or itinerant children, she’s invisible for the most part. People don’t notice her doing surveillance while playing in the street. People don’t concern themselves much with an underage, dirty street girl poking around the bad guys’ hideout, save maybe that she might steal something. She doesn’t tend to attract violence, save a disdainful cuff to the head by the local toughs and cops. She’s small and fits into places the adult characters can’t. No one expects her to pull a Colt .380 Pony out of her pants. She’s been able to play the cute factor a few times to keep from getting pulped by bad guys.

The downsides are obvious: she’s not strong, big, or particularly talented in fighting. In fisticuffs, she usually comes away the worse for wear if someone lands a blow. She’s not as fast as adults, but she is quicker, able to dodge, weave, and use small spaces to escape. She has no real rights as a minor — the state can do what it likes with her. She only garners a certain level of respect, no matter how effective (she’s their “monkey”)…because she’s a kid. She doesn’t have money or a real job.

Point 3: Unlike what I expected, she’s turned Sally into a fantastic part of the campaign — our Short Round, if you will. Sally has just enough fighting skills to get herself into trouble if no dealing with a mook, and that leads to complications and more fun. She has to think her way out of trouble and uses her surroundings to her advantage (I think that’s the first time I’ve seen a hotel luggage cart used as a weapon!) She provides comic relief by making the other characters have to worry about the kid in their midst. She’s fun, and she makes the game fun.

So kids…an interesting role to take on for a game, if you’re thinking about something different.

About a month ago I’d finally had enough of dropped calls in my house and dumped Verizon Wireless after six years with the company. The service seemed to be getting shoddier and the phone I had was crap. After comparing services, i decided I was sick of being locked into a two-year contract simply to get a free — yet crappy — phone. I bought Virgin’s $25 300 minute/free email, text, and web plan.

The best deal, hands down, was Virgin Mobile. The service piggybacks on Sprint’s network when theirs is unavailable, so the coverage, so far, is pretty solid. I live in new Mexico and have a tendency to take my Triumph for rides to places that Big Red and the Death Star can’t reach, either, so losing my signal up in Jemez Springs isn’t much of a surprise. Coverage is just as good, so far, as Verizon in my region. Data reception and transfer rates are as good, if not a bit fast, than Verizon’s from what I’ve seen.

Call quality: solidly good, although I do have a few spots in my house that cause a bit of signal loss. No dropped calls yet. Sound quality is good.

The phone: I went with the $79 Samsung Restore — it’s a smart(ish)phone with a slide out keyboard for texting and email. I find it indispensable — I hate pecking through the letters and numbers on a standard number pad and the screen keyboards don’t have the haptic feedback to help me type quickly. Sound quality is good and call quality for those I’ve called is reported as good to great. Text transfer is quick, as is data files (in this case endless pictures of my three month old.) Web is good, but I hate the “mobile” experience — all text, for the most part. Still it’s nice to check maps, weather, and check email from the phone while I’m out and about.

Overall, I’d say my experience with Virgin is positive — the phone’s good, the service is good, and the customer service has been stellar (if based in Brahmapore or wherever…) I had to call in early on about having the wrong phone number and they fixed it quickly. I called when I topped-up but the minutes didn’t apply right away (they simply paid me up for next month) — fixed, no questions asked, no hassle.

The only thing I’ve noted is without the mobile-to-mobile minutes of Verizon, I use alot more time than I thought…I may need to raise my minutes to 450. If you use 150-200/month n Verizon, you’ll eat up 300 in 15-20 days on a slow month. I burned up 50 minutes just today… Their unlimited plan is, for now, $45 unlimited everything.

Eat that Verizon.