If there is one constant in the chaotic time of our lives during our teenage years, it’s that we’ll do things that our parents won’t understand. It could be viral videos,strange music, odd haircuts or any one of a dozen things that are designed to establish separate identities from the generation that came before. In the case of Slugblaster, designed by Mikey Hamm, the titular trend is using high tech gadgets to achieve acts of low rebellion. These kids want to party, make out and explore who they are by using the tools at their disposal. In this case, the tools include hoverboards, ray guns and interdimensional portals. Mythworks sent along a deluxe edition of the game for this review, which comes in a pizza box style container that doubles as the GM screen. Does this game stick the landing? Let’s play to find out.
The game casts players in the role of a teenage crew itching to get out of their quiet town/suburb of Hillview. The kids are involved in the slugblasting scene, looking to make a name for themselves while also staying one step ahead of the authorities and their parents. Characters are primarily built from two big choices. The first is their Role which reflects what they do in the crew. Are they the Heart that makes friends wherever they go? Are they the Grit who somehow always gets up after crashing and burning? They also choose a unique piece of well loved high tech gear. Everyone has access to hoverboards and laser guns but only one kid in the crew saved up their allowance to buy a void space backpack. These choices give characters specific abilities but, in the case of the crew role, they also plants the seeds for that character’s story arc. The Heart, for example, is going to be defined by their relationship to another character, be it romantic, platonic or other.
The mechanics are rooted in the d6 dice pools of Blades In The Dark with the usual split of results. They roll 1d6 and can gain more by marking boosts or accepting dares as additional complications on the roll. They can also double down by saying “Check it!” before performing a trick, which gives them style points if they win but gives the GM permission to inflict the worst failure they can imagine if they fail. Not only do you bail on your awesome rail grind but you tumble to a stop right in front of the person you were going to ask to prom. The GM can inflict complications immediately or they can bank them as points of bite to unleash later. In case you hadn’t figured this out by now, the game lays on flavorful mechanical terms a little thick. It can be a little overwhelming at first but like spending time with a teenager willing to explain their slang, you get used to it after a while.
These rolls also generate trouble, which is a more long term complication, similar to heat. Rack up too much trouble and a character runs the risk of something dramatic happening. Coming home from an interdimensional skate tournament to the news their parents are divorcing. Shredding their awesome photonic jacket during their big date. Players can burn trouble by choosing scenes in their arcs to up the interpersonal drama amid the sci-fi chaos. A lot of these scenes are ones that any GM would likely run as a natural part of a teenage drama, but it’s fun to put the pacing in the hands of the player. There’s a palpable sense of “ugh, I don’t want to deal with this right now” when a player picks up a trouble scene which makes the experience feel even more authentic. Parents have an uncanny knack of having uncomfortable talks at the worst possible moment.
The relatability of the game is one of its strongest selling points. It can be hard to get into the mindspace of an elven wizard or a Jedi knight but we’ve all been awkward teenagers at some point in our lives. One of the consequences characters can take are slams, which are short descriptions of harm like “scraped knee” or “grounded”. They are mostly narrative in nature but when you give one to a player they will often recoil or wince. These simple injuries are very relatable and that brings players and their characters closer together.
Slugblaster also does a great job connecting to the teenage experience without tying it to a specific era. I love games like Tales From The Loop, but players look at this game and pick out elements from their youth to connect with whether it was decades ago or just last year. One player might see 80’s comedies like Weird Science or Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure, while another might connect to the story because of the hours and hours of Tony Hawk's Pro Skater around Y2K. This often leads to a bit of distraction as players tell stories about their own highs and lows as a teenager. While this may not be ideal for hardcore immersion types, it’s a great way to build bonds not just with characters but everyone sitting at the table.
Bottom Line: If you’ve ever been a teenager, Slugblaster offers a chance to relive those years (or possibly improve them) in a world full of sick tricks and sci-fi drama.
