We unceremoniously executed the Otherverse games website when I abandoned the LLC that was linked to it. We also mentioned that a previous entity was re-engaged when we started MF6s.com. Yet, only OG ‘Motherfuckers’ know the story behind that name. So, let’s take a step back and see what the whole thing is all about.
First, we must go way back. Not so far as “let there be light” back, but a good twenty years or so when I was attending college. I went to Rochester Institute of Technology, spending far too much money/ acquiring unreasonable debt only to almost entirely ignore my design education and go into retail management. An extensive collection of dorks, nerds and socially awkward students were spread across the various schools that compiled the college, and you can imagine the pastimes that occupied the little free time the students had. Lots of computer nonsense. But also a lot of table gaming.
I couldn’t handle the kids that were incapable of conversations. In my head, gaming was for hanging out with friends, shooting the shit and having a good time, all with some sort of game in between us. I had a great time with the friends I made whom also played. From the dorm common room, to on-campus and then off-campus apartments, wargames or roleplaying games were constantly happening. We also had an enormous FLGS down the street, and I spent a little of time at Millennium games.
Once and a while. I would go to the wargame club, or bring my 3rd Edition Dark Angel army to the game shop to try and find a game. Every time I pug’ged a game, that’s pick-up-game for the layman, I straight up did not enjoy it. I would go so far as to say I hated it.
One of the (many) things I love about my then girlfriend and now wife Kera moving in with me is that I always had someone to play a game with. I know I don’t have to explain how great it is to have a partner who not only tolerates my various game obsessions, but partakes as well. Shit. She plays more video games than I do.
College was over for me. We moved to the Boston area for Kera to go to school. We got jobs. Made friends. While I found people to play video games and board games, I did not find a wargame group. As the new editions released, I bought the rules for the game and the armies I owned, but, while we tried a few times, Kera never really caught on to Warhammer. She hated the movement in Warhammer Fantasy and found 40k too complicated. We played tabletop RPG’s together, we played video games together frequently (so much WoW…).
This is why I lost track of Warhammer for most of 5th through 7th edition. Towards the end of 7th I found myself with a new job that paid decent and started buying models again to start hobbying. That was the beginning of the end.
Then it was the middle of 8th edition. The rules of 40k had been reset. I had bought a bunch of models, and having convinced Kera to give it a chance again, we found ourselves playing fairly frequently. Our dining room table was rarely used for “dining” after this.
It was one of those nights. I was playing my Dark Angels. Kera was running a Black Legion army. We were a few turns in. I was losing.
It was her turn and she had fucked my shit up. Severely. Some hot dice rolls on her side and some poor results on mine saw me lose all of my armor. With only infantry and my old, pewter, 2nd edition chapter specific dreadnought left with any chance of hurting her land raider, helbrute and forgefiend, she ended her shooting phase planning to erase my dread as well. She rolled. I cringed.
With several lascannon shots connecting, the only chance I had was to roll several dice, and get a six on all of them. The chances were terrible.
I rolled. Guess what result I got on EVERY die.
Yup.
With a look on her face that said it all, we moved into my turn. Which was almost entirely ineffective and over rather quickly.
Determined and unnecessarily angry at me, Kera resumed the ranged assault with zeal and a little bit of crazy in her eyes. God I love her. She started shooting lascannons at my poor dreadnought again, determined to leave me with practically nothing on the table.
Wanna know how to instill fury in my wife? Roll more sixes when she hits with those same lascannons, again. She lost it. I shit you not, she threw dice at me.
And that’s when it happened:
I made things worse, of course.
I looked down at one of the dice that I had just been assaulted with, and casually pointed out that it was a six as well. That did it. She stormed off and brooded on the sofa for a while.
It’s easy to be a sore loser, sure. But, it takes both skill and determination to be a sore winner! I love telling this story… anyway. She eventually came back and finished the game with a solid win.
All I wanted was to find a group of gamers that I could enjoy playing with. The litmus test was whether I would want to sit across a high top at the bar and shoot the shit for a while. If yes, that meant it was someone I wanted to play games with.
I started a Facebook group to connect us all, make it easier to set up games, share pics on models and talk some shit. The name for this entertaining group of miscreants that I wanted to spend time with was a no-brainer. It also afforded me the opportunity to tell the story over and over. I cannot overstate how awesome it was to know everyone in the group, or know that a member was a friend of someone else I knew in the group. It was great, while it lasted.
The old, private motherfn 6s group is now defunct. Everyone moved with me to Otherverse Games and the original group died a sad, slow death. I am excited to share the original fun and slightly wild group with anyone who wants to join.
While you’re likely reading this because you’re a member, there is also a chance that maybe you aren’t. That’s weird; what’s the fuckin hold-up? If you’re interested, and haven’t found the link elsewhere, join the Facebook group here, and the discord here.
For the cherry on top of the whole fuckin sordid affair, whenever I bring out my old metal box naught to play against my wife, forever know as MF6s, we count him as a venerable dreadnought for no extra cost. Otherwise, he sits prominently in the curio for all, including Kera, to gaze upon in wonder…
( Editor note: the story is much better when told in person because, as Tyson likes to say, I make the best facial expressions while he’s telling the tale – Kera, aka the sore winner )
Tyson
Obsessive and neurotic collector of little plastic men, novels about the same little plastic men and paints to make the little plastic men pretty. Married to Kera, who puts up with him and pretends that she doesn’t hear him speaking to the little plastic men in between making pew pew noises in the hobby room. Requires adult supervision. A menace to himself but rarely to others. More beard than man