Gabriel the Younger is quite a bit like his dad, but his youngest creature - like my own - simply can't be derived conceptually from a combination of their parents' traits. It's shocking to the layman, like multiplying two negatives and getting a positive. In practice, it's like entering the world with a service animal. There's just stuff about it I can't perceive despite my prodigious attempts and ample time to have done so. They see and delight in these hidden geometries! So it is that Noah often accompanies his father as an Adventure Companion, most recently to the Child's Play Charity dinner and auction. They did not secure the UCS Millenium Falcon (75192), but I think Noah would like you to know that he knew the designation and part number off the top of his head.

In accordance with my role as Uncle, I have adopted a nemesis persona for him mostly so he has a ton of opportunity for easy dunks. But we have also moved this into Warhammer 40k, which is actually just an opportunity to go over the rules.

He plays an army called Death Guard, which are best described as bubbling crockpots of disease. Their boss "Mortarion" is at once their father and is also a disgusting bug person who dishes up heapin' helpin's of bubonic gravy and puts it all over everything. I pilot a hive of unrelenting aliens - endlessly optimized biohorrors called Tyranids - in a configuration that covers the map with gigantic, tank-sized monsters.

His father and brother play powerful religious zealots that can only field a few guys and a mass army that punches above its weight, respectively. He hasn't seen anything like a hungry mountain of razor-sharp chitin - a hard counter, even for evil crockpots.

He conceded, but he shouldn't have, and I said so. He had me dead to rights. Next time, I'll show him how.

(CW)TB out.