games – Page 11

Making an Anti-Fascist Game about War

The following is an essay by John W. Sheldon, someone you may know as the art director for Turn, or as the creator of Roar of Alliance, playtested at Big Bad Con and elsewhere.

A photo of a playmat on a table with cards laid out and stacked in various piles. The playmat has instructional text for the players to reference, and is titled Roar of Alliance. — The Roar of Alliance playmat, photo by John W. Sheldon.

My name is John W. Sheldon, and I’ve been working on a tabletop game called Roar of Alliance for a few years (I used to call it Armored Reckoning). The game is about crewing an Allied tank in an alt-history World War Two and fighting through waves Nazis to set things right. What could be more anti-fascist than that? Lots of stuff, it turns out. The problem is that Nazis aren’t the only fascists, and my game does some things that potentially support fascist ways of thinking. In the political climate of the United States in 2019, it is especially important that we be aware of these things and work to mitigate them as much as possible. I’m writing about my process here in the hopes that others might find a useful example in the steps I’ve taken, and so that people with more experience can point out ways I can further improve.

What My Game Does Wrong

How does a game about destroying Nazi tanks and blowing up their infantry risk supporting fascist modes of thought? One cornerstone of fascist ideology is that they (the fascists) are oppressed by an enemy that is numerous, pervasive, powerful, and simultaneously inferior (stupid, incompetent, or morally weak). Another cornerstone is that the only appropriate way to deal with that enemy is by force.

The rules of my game do specifically these things:

The enemies you face in Roar of Alliance are numerous (outnumbering the players in just about every engagement), dangerous (their vehicles are often more advanced and better armed), and lack intelligence (their actions are automated by simple if/then statements that they never deviate from). The only way players ever interact with these foes is via deadly force. You will lose the game if you do not destroy their vehicles and disperse their infantry.

So, in these ways at least, my game actually promotes a core set of fascist ideologies. Some of this is hard to avoid, given that the game doesn’t have anyone in a central directorial role to moderate portrayals of the enemy or to restrict player behaviors in direct contact with the enemy outside combat, therefore no character in the game is ever confronted by a Nazi outside the specific circumstance of combat. This is a conscious choice to make sure nobody at the table is ever tasked with portraying a Nazi, and it keeps torture* and certain other types of violent fantasy outside the scope of the game as written. Players also have some leeway in narrating the effects of their actions on the enemy: when enemy infantry are removed from the field, players can choose to narrate the enemy’s retreat or death, and players do the same for surviving crew of disabled enemy vehicles.

Since violence and a portrayal of the enemy as numerous and unintelligent are essential to the way the game functions, and I don’t want to scrap the whole thing and start over, how do I make sure the rest of the game refutes fascism?

Focusing on Diversity

An illustration of a woman in fatigues who stands on top of a busted tank, smoke pouring out of it. — by John W. Sheldon

I start with something nationalists and fascists hate: I make sure that every other aspect of the game supports and emphasizes diversity and demonstrates how it creates strength. This paragraph kicks off the rulebook:

This game is set during the 2nd World War in Europe, a time when even the historical victors were rife with bigoted beliefs and policies. You should not let those real world bigotries limit the characters you choose to portray and accept. People of all races and genders from six continents and countless backgrounds fought against fascism and Nazism in Europe, and your characters should reflect some of that diversity.

Moreover, players are asked to identify their character’s country of origin, to help emphasize the diversity of geographic origin of the people who challenge fascism. Some of these choices are informed at a basic level by the themes of the character archetypes the game offers. In particular, the Partisan archetype was a resident of Nazi-occupied territory and a resistance fighter before joining up with the crew, the Collateral is a member of a population oppressed by the Allies and nevertheless pressed into service against the Nazis (e.g., Black Americans or colonial subjects of the British Empire), and the Duty was someone who volunteered for the fight because they new defeating fascism and Nazism was the right thing to do.

For actually producing the game, I’m doing what I’d never recommend: I’m doing the rules writing, layout, and illustrations all myself. What this does mean is that I can make sure that all of the art upholds my stated dedication to multiple axes of diversity. The art within the rules documents already portrays people of multiple genders, races, and body types as members of the player tank crew. Additional art I’m working on will include crew members with visible disabilities, crew wearing items of non-European traditional dress, and different cultural grooming standards.

Part of my plan for taking the game to crowdfunding is to offer backers the opportunity to have their portraits included as the card back art for some of the character archetypes, and as the face cards in the crew deck. Since I believe the audience for my game (one about Tanks in World War Two) skews significantly male, white, able-bodied, and cis, simply offering all of these art opportunities on a first-come, first-served basis would further skew the art for my game towards a monolithic default. To maintain my dedication to diversity, I need to give up potential sources of revenue and pre-stack the art with diverse portraits. I’ll won’t be offering backer levels for the Jacks in the Crew Deck, or for half of the character archetypes. Instead, I’ll be creating those portraits before the crowdfunding campaign begins. The portraits for the Jacks will be portraits of non-binary volunteers, and those for the first half of the character archetypes will be of volunteers who are one or more of non-white, queer, or visibly disabled.

Heroes that Need Help

Most fascism thrives on mythologizing heroes as paragons of strength, capable of facing great hardship alone and without aid. The heroes of fascism also contain within them a paradox: the enemy they face is terrifying, but they never actually feel fear. Roar of Alliance refutes these mythologized ideas of heroism idea on multiple fronts. The very nature of combat in my game requires players to rely on one another at all times (no person can operate a tank single-handedly). The player characters also begin the game by admitting fear: one of the first tasks of the first session is to identify a fear your character has about the fighting to come.

During the game, player characters will take Stress (the game’s unified resource representing both physical toughness and mental resilience). Characters who max out their Stress during an engagement play out a Last Stand for significant effect, then leave the Crew (the player decides whether they have died or simply become unable for whatever reason to continue on as a tank crew member). While the characters have a limited set of resources called Motivations that the players can expend to avoid stress, the only way to actually recover Stress relies on spending time with the other characters between battles. Only by working together, by comforting one another, and by acknowledging their own dependence on others can characters reduce their Stress and gain new Motivations to help them engage in future battles.

An illustration of two soldiers are crowded by a campfire with a pot cooking food, and one soldier has placed their hand on the shoulder of the other. — by John W. Sheldon.

Every archetype has scene prompts that show them needing help, and the whole game requires players to rely extensively on one another. Even the player’s Crew is supported by a company of non-Crew characters that players will occasionally be called on to portray between battles. No lone strong hero, or even small group of heroes, can accomplish the monumental task the players are facing.

Humanizing the Enemy

Fascism dehumanizes its enemies, making it easier for its adherents to attack, belittle, and eventually exterminate those that oppose it. You can see this in language comparing enemies to animals, assigning them undesirable traits as a group, in racist and anti-Semitic propaganda images that exaggerate enemy features to cartoonish extremes, or even in recent online language where some members of right-leaning web forums call people who oppose them “NPCs” – implying that there is no real individual personhood in those that disagree with their fascist ideology.

In my quest to make the game as hostile as possible to fascist ideologies, I must design the game to humanize the enemies that players face. Everyone should be reminded that the Nazis and members of the Wehrmacht were not inhuman monsters – they were regular people who became willing to commit evil acts because of an abhorrent philosophy. Reminding players of this is important because dehumanizing even Nazis creates an easy defense for modern fascists and authoritarians to mount, in the form of a “but I do these good things over here, I’m not a complete monster” defense. Reminding people that Nazis were regular people, even while they did terrible things, reminds us that we must examine ourselves for the kinds of behavior they exhibited.

Next Steps

Is there more my game can do? Almost certainly. In fact, I’m extremely open to suggestions for additional ways to improve. You can get in touch with me on Twitter, Pluspora, or Mastodon if you want to give me some feedback.

In the meantime, if you’re interested in ways to make your own game hostile to fascist ideologies, check out these two essays that helped inform my own process.

*Despite everything pop culture tells us, torture does not work. It is immoral and wrong in every circumstance, and this would still be true even if it worked – which it categorically does not.

A photo of two rulebooks for Roar of Alliance, illustrated with tanks in orange-red and black.

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Quick Shot on By Aecer’s Light!

Today’s quick shot is with Mad Jay Brown on the project By Aecer’s Light!, a setting zine on Kickstarter now! Check it out!

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A black man with a beard in a black shirt with blue art on it sits in front of a character sheet, dice, and minis.

What is By Aecer’s Light!, both as a product and as your vision?

By Aecer’s Light! is me ‘small scale testing’ a creative project on my ‘someday-maybe’ list of creative projects. I’ve done a few freelancer-for-hire projects and wondered what would a ‘By Mad Jay’ project look like. This Kickstarter is the result of me crafting and running a series of one-shot con sessions using some of the unusual pieces of fantasy, Burning Wheel fantasy in particular. The Roden, which are rat-folk. Wolfen, think fantasy bipedal wolves and a Rakshasi, but jaguar instead of tiger and the absence of a great Elven presence. Wild success for me would be that folks are happy with the zines they backed and find them useful. I break even (at least) and getting to work with fantastic folks like Julia Ellingboe, Kurt Komoda, Johnstone Metzger, Nathan Paoletta and the father of Roden, Peter Tierney.

All of those sound very cool! You talk about your awesome collaborations, but first I want to know, what are you doing in your setting design that is something you see as truly your dream brought to light?

I’m a sucker for outsider stories. The X-Men, Samurai Champloo, Farscape, these are stories about outsider groups. The Roden(Rat folk), Wolfen, the Dark(Spite) Elf, and the Rakshashi are all outsiders. There aren’t many, if any, iconic characters or stories about these fantasy peoples. We’re free to explore and collaboratively make our own.

A rodent person in armor, carrying a halberd, sketched in sepia tones. — By Kurt Komoda.

What can backers expect in the By Aecer’s Light! release and what does it bring hope for in the future?

In the By Aecer’s Light! release players will have a starter setting to begin playing in and Roden and Wolfen as playable ‘races’. There will be immediate conflicts ready to go and room for the players to grow, define, make their own outsider stories. Hopefully, the future brings more playable lore in this ‘after the Elves’ setting.

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Thanks so much to Mad Jay for the interview! I hope you’ll check out By Aecer’s Light! on Kickstarter today!

PTSD, access to role-playing games, and the Luxton technique by P.H. Lee

This post was originally posted on G+ by P.H. Lee on August 28, 2017. It was a significant influence on updates to the Script Change RPG toolbox, and is an essential read in regards to addressing safety in the game community and at every game table. Lee has authorized me to post the text here in full since G+ is dying, which I greatly appreciate – it’s super valuable!

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Preamble

I have PTSD. About 6-7 years ago, more or less, various pan-RPG techniques to control triggering[1] content — The Veil and the X-Card, to name two of a vast diversity — became commonplace in the RPG circles that I played in. Around the same time, I stopped participating in role-playing games at meet-ups and conventions, or anywhere else that these techniques were promulgated. These three things (PTSD, X-Card, and my withdrawal from play) are related. I’m writing this essay to discuss the ways that these techniques cut off my access to role-playing games, and introduce know techniques that, I hope, will point to a way forward in terms of accessibility.

Conflicting Access Needs
Before I go further, I’d like to reference a term from the disability rights movement: conflicting access needs. Disabled people are extremely diverse and our disabilities are also extremely diverse. While an ideal world would have everyone’s access needs met at all times and in all circumstances, in many circumstances, with many disabilities, that is practically or fundamentally impossible.

An example, which I’m paraphrasing from Autistic blogger Mel Baggs: A group home for Autistic people have some occupants who constantly verbalize, and others who are hypersensitive to noise. The verbalizers have a reasonable access need to be allowed to verbalize. The hypersensitive have a reasonable access need for quiet. Both of these access needs are reasonable, but it is impossible to meet both of them in the same space.

For this essay, the point is that, while I’m describing ways that my (and others) access to role-playing games has been cut off, I want to acknowledge that the techniques in question were developed and promulgated — often by people with similar disabilities to mine — to meet a legitimate access need. That they cut off my (and others) access to role-playing games does not mean that they are inherently wrong, bad, or ableist.

I do not want this to turn into “X-Card (or The Veil, etc, etc) is bad” and, even more so, I do not want it to turn into “the people who propagate these techniques are bad.” That’s not my opinion and, also, it’s wrong. I am hoping that by writing this essay I can move the discussion of accessibility of RPGs for PTSD sufferers from “use this technique” to a conversation which can account for different players, different goals, different communities, and different access needs.

A Note on Personal Narrative

I’m going to use a personal narrative throughout this essay, because it is based on my own experiences of both role-playing games and PTSD. But I want to be clear: I am not speaking solely for myself in this. Simply from personal circumstances, I can attest that the problems I have are problems that are shared by a number of other people with triggered mental illnesses.

Likewise, there are people with triggered mental illnesses who have a very different experience — most importantly, there are people with triggered mental illnesses who find the X-Card, The Veil, etc. to be vital techniques for their access to role-playing games. I do not want to erase these people — they exist, and their experiences also matter.

Please do not take my use of personal narrative as evidence that I speak only for myself. I don’t. Likewise, please don’t take my speaking on this topic as someone with PTSD to assume that I speak for all people with triggered mental illness. I don’t.

The X-Card, the Veil, and all that

The X-Card, the Veil, and similar techniques have their roots in a section of Sex and Sorcery, a supplement for Sorcerer by Ron Edwards, where he (roughly paraphrasing) suggests a technique dealing with difficult sexual content in the game by “drawing a veil over it,” basically, describing it in loose terms and then moving on with play, rather than playing it out. This is included together with several other techniques, including actually playing it out and fading to black. From there, like many things from the Sorcerer supplements, it developed on the Forge forums as a more generalized technique that could be applicable to all games.

I first encountered The Veil as a universally applicable technique in the context of public play in the Pacific Northwest — I believe it comes out of the Go Play NW convention, but I could be mistaken. By the time it reached this form, it had mutated considerably — it was something that was invoked by a particular player, rather than a general technique for play, and it generally had the effect of erasing the content of play [2], rather than playing it out in a vague sense and then moving on. It became a widespread meta-technique[3], adopted at a lot of public play events.

Simultaneously [4], in the New York City play scene, John Stavropoulos developed the X-Card as a meta-technique. With the X-Card, the system is formalized. By “throwing the X-Card” (either a physical card marked with an X or just an invocation), a player stops play, and the offending material is erased, and play continues as if it had never happened.

The X-Card grew in popularity and was adopted throughout the indie-games public play culture. By the time that I had largely retreated from public play (~2013), it was fairly universal. Although I have not been in touch with public play culture since, it does not seem (from my outsider perspective) to have become any less widespread.

My Experience

My first reaction to The Veil as a meta-technique was simply “well, I don’t want to do that.” At the time, it was not generally regarded as a universal meta-rule, so that was the end of my encounter with it. However, as it grew in popularity, I began to be increasingly averse to it. I remember a particular event — I think it was at Indie Hurricane, although I could not guess at the year — where it was introduced as a generic rule for all pick-up games. I got a horrified, sinking feeling, my eyes started to flutter and my stomach twisted — familiar signs of a triggering [1] event. I cannot remember whether I then said to my players “I’d like not to use that for our game” or not — I cannot even remember if I ran my planned game or left the scene immediately. Poor memory often accompanies being exposed to triggers.

I tried playing a few games with the rule in place, thinking I could maybe get used to it. Even though, to my recollection, it was never invoked, those games left me an anxious wreck afterward.

I stopped going to convention events as often. I started going to local public play groups, but shortly thereafter the meta-rule spread there as well, and I stopped attending those as well.

I did not at the time understand why this was triggering to me. I’m not entirely sure I was conscious that I was being triggered — it seems obvious in retrospect but I think that at the time I was not able to recognize exactly what was going on.

I made several attempts to communicate my distress — I remember talking on separate occasions with John Stavropoulos and Avery Alder about it — but because I didn’t understand what was going on, I could not clearly explain my problems, let alone propose solutions. Obviously, my attempts at communication were unsuccessful [5].

The Veil was replaced by the X-Card, and the technique continued to spread. I continued to retreat from Indie RPG circles, although I continued to play with personal groups and in non Indie RPG spaces such as AmberCon NW.

As an aside, I should say that this inaccessibility was far from the sole reason I retreated from Indie RPG circles and that, also, I do not regret having done so. My retreat has allowed me to spend more time on fiction writing, on personal friends, and on campaign play of RPGs. All of these have benefitted me both personally and professionally.

The problem

Both the X-Card and The Veil (as practiced in the PNW at that time) have as their core concept that the correct default way to handle triggering material in a role-playing game is to excise the material from the fictional timeline and thereafter to continue play. This is a commonplace understanding of how triggers work — remove the trigger, problem now solved.

This is, for me, a disaster, because it replicates the environment of denial and powerlessness that caused my PTSD in the first place.

Fundamentally, any approach to triggering material that contains any element of “pretend it never happened” is emotionally disastrous for me, because it recapitulates the environment of denial and dismissal around my traumatic experiences. This is not limited to excising the material from play — it also includes attempts to dismiss, deny, or minimize it.

No technique that centers this approach can possibly be functional as an accommodation; furthermore, any game or community that uses a technique that centers this approach is necessarily inaccessible to me, because an environment that centers denial as a coping strategy for triggering material, is in and of itself, a traumatic trigger.

Centering status quo vs centering healing

Fundamentally, these meta-techniques center the status quo — the goal is to “deal with” the triggering event, or the triggered person, and then return to regular play as if the interruption had never happened. I submit that, due the nature of PTSD, this approach is fundamentally flawed.

Once I have been triggered, I am in a traumatic experience. No amount of care or concern or comfort or accommodation can untrigger me. The question is not “how do we return Lee to the status quo?” or “how can we stop Lee from having a traumatic experience?” because those goals are impossible. The question is “what kind of traumatic experience is Lee going to have?” It can either be a damaging experience — one that reinforces the trigger and my PTSD — or it can be a healing experience — one that lets me recontextualize the trigger and its part of the trauma into my normal psyche.

Denial and social pressure to “return to normal” are damaging experiences.

Acknowledgement, empowerment, and story-building are healing experiences.

I believe that, in principle, good techniques for dealing with PTSD in role-playing games will avoid damaging experiences and center healing experiences.

The Luxton Technique

I didn’t post about my problems with X-Card, The Veil, etc for a long time because, among other factors, I did not have a proposed solution or alternative technique. All I could do was say “I’d rather have nothing than this,” but “no technique” is not particularly good rallying cry and it was not really a meaningful solution, just an attempt to get back to the somewhat-more-accessible-but-not-great status quo.

Until last year, I truly believed that there was no technique that would improve access to RPGs for some PTSD sufferers without also excluding PTSD sufferers like myself. But, last year, I played in a role-playing game at AmberCon NW that was specifically focused on traumatic experience and, particularly, centering the trauma of the players in the story we made. In that game, we used a particular technique — which I’d like to call the Luxton Technique after the GM of the game — which I found to be empowering, healing, and accessible to me.

It’s difficult for me to summarize all the parts of this that worked, but, roughly, the Luxton Technique includes:

* An honest discussion of potential traumatic triggers prior to play, in a supportive environment, with the understanding that there is no possible way to identify or discuss every conceivable trigger or trauma, and with no social pressure to disclose particulars of individual trauma.

* When, in play, a player encounters triggering material, they can, if they choose, talk about that to the other players. When they do this, the other players listen.

* As part of talking about it — and possibly the only thing that they need say — the player is given absolute fiat power over that material, expressed as a want or a need. For instance “I’d like to play [character name] for this scene” or “I need this to have a happy ending” or “I want this character to not be hurt right now” or “I need this character to not get away with this” or “By the end of play, this should not be a secret” or “I need to stop play and get a drink of water” or “I don’t have a specific request, I just wanted you to know.”

* A player does not need to use their traumatic experience to justify any requests or demands. We just do it.

* A player does not need to be the one to speak first. We keep an eye on each other and we are watchful for people who seem withdrawn or unfocused or upset. If we are worried about someone, we ask.

* We play towards accommodating that player’s requests.

It’s hard to overstate how much the Luxton Technique (or, really, set of techniques) helped us approach extremely difficult, extremely person material, both for the trauma survivors at the table and for the non-survivors. Rather than having our traumatic experiences — already a disjoint with reality — cause a disjoint in play, we were able to integrate them into play and tell a story about or, at least, at an angle to, our traumatic experiences, real and pretend.

Healing and RPGs

I am well aware that it sounds both pretentious and terrifying to talk about RPG play as a process by which one might legitimately heal from trauma. But I’d like to elaborate on that a little, because I think it’s important.

Fundamentally, a traumatic experience is an experience that is at a disjoint with the narrative of one’s life. Having PTSD means that your trauma exists out of time, out of place, and always in the present tense. A big part of recovering from PTSD, inasmuch as it is possible, is not about excising the trauma or your continued experience of it. Rather, it’s about integrating the trauma into normal memory and a normal narrative of your life.

A big part of that is story-telling, because a story is about incorporating disparate elements into a coherent narrative. And, for me, a big part of that story-telling has been role-playing games. In this essay, I present the choice as a binary — either a game can harm, or it can heal. That’s a lot of pressure to put on something as casual as a role-playing game! But, also, story-telling helps, and the story itself doesn’t need to be traumatic. Any story-telling experience can contribute, constructively, to healing, because PTSD sufferers need to be able to tell our own stories to the world and, more importantly, to ourselves. As an accessible storytelling medium, RPGs can’t be beat. They have been, and continue to be, a great help to me. In introducing these techniques, I am hoping that they can continue to be a help to others as well.

This is not limited to “heavy intense” sorts of stories that directly reference trauma. Ordinary RPGs can be stories about friends sticking together, or triumphing over evil, or just being clever and solving traps and puzzles, all of which have the potential to be healing narratives. Don’t think that I’m limiting the healing potential of RPGs to “serious” games or “serious” stories. I’m not.

It’s a reasonable reaction to say “I don’t want to do anything that heavy in my RPG!” or “I can’t be responsible for this!” And, obviously, don’t play in circumstances that you’re uncomfortable. But RPGs, and the people I’ve played them with, have given me so much healing. It’s wrong for me to dismiss, deny, or belittle that simply because games are a recreational activity. I hope that, in looking at problems of accessibility of RPGs, we can look to their potential to heal as much, if not more, than their potential to harm.

My hope (edited addition)

My hope is that this essay will start / continue a conversation where we look critically at our tools and techniques for RPG play. I hope that we can get to a place, as a community, where we understand that they are not one-size-fits-all and that we are able to take a look at what that means in terms of accessibility. I’d like for us to be able to make better-informed choices about accessibility and our RPG play, and the trade-offs that entails.

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[1] Because I have no alternative vocabulary, I’m going to use “triggering” in this essay to describe images, words, or ideas that trigger traumatic flashbacks, panic attacks, or other PTSD symptoms. I’m aware of the popular usage of “triggering” as a derisive term for an emotional reaction. I am not using it in that respect. Please, also, refrain from doing so in responses. Thanks.

[2] I’m not sure exactly when the pivot from “veil as not playing out blow-by-blow” to “veil as erasing the content from play” occurred. It might have been after this.

[3] I use the term “meta-technique” to mean “a role-playing game rule intended to be used with any game.” In some cases, it is “a role-playing game rule intended to be used with every game.”

[4] I am not sure about the historical relationship between the X-Card and the Veil. It’s possible that there was some inspiration. It’s also possible it was a parallel development.

[5] I do not want to cast any aspersions on John or Avery for our failure to communicate. Both of them listened as well as they could have to my concerns, even though I was unable to communicate them clearly. The failure was definitely on my end, and I want to thank both of them for their patience in waiting this long to hear my thoughts more clearly expressed.

Five or So Questions on Dangerous Times

Hey all! Today I’ve got five or so questions with Michael Bacon about the game Dangerous Times, which is currently on Kickstarter! Hope that you like hearing about this game of journalism in the 1920s!

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An illustration of a newspaper for Dangerous Times, Volume 1, Friday March 9, 1923, Established 1887. Heading reads "Muckrakers and Magic in Old New York!" and the subtitle reads "Historic Urban Fantasy RPG."

Tell me about Dangerous Times. What excites you about it?

Dangerous Times is a small role-playing game for two or more players, published in zine form, with a focus on storytelling. It’s about reporters who risk their lives to expose corruption, crime and injustice, all in a version of 1920’s New York that’s just learned stage magic is real. So now magic is everywhere: children play with fire and levitation in the streets, wall street moguls consult soothsayers before making investments, crooks turn hypnotism and escape-artistry to devious purposes… and of course those who seek power are messing with things best left alone.

One of the aspects I’m most excited about is the history involved.

New York of the jazz age is a surprisingly modern time. Broadway is decorated with neon lights, cars fill the streets and the subway rumbles below. There’s even a budding intercontinental network of wires and radio waves used to share photographs and news around the world.

It’s not just the technology that makes the twenties modern, though: so many familiar social issues are present and cultural shifts are happening, often in ways that resonate with the current time.

I’d love it if players were able to engage with all this history, and find ways to incorporate it into their play. I’ve tried to encourage that in the design. So even though the problems they bump into involve the supernatural, I’ve attempted to make those plotlines echo historic reality. It turned out to be… not easy (I’m still not sure I’ve got it right), but at least surprisingly straight-forward. This makes sense, though, because this is the culture that produced so many of those genre-defining fantasy, horror and mystery stories; they couldn’t help but bring reality into the fantastical.

The New York City skyline with the text "New York City in the Roaring Twenties."

The 1920s were a complex time in New York! I know that many Black Americans and queer people were among those living in the city. What kind of research are you doing to ensure that you have appropriate representation of the history and the people of the era?

I’m glad you brought this up, because how people treated each other during this era has been a major focal point of my research.

I’ve been lucky enough to lean on the work of historians who’ve spent their entire careers studying aspects of this, exploring how specific conceptions of race, gender, sexuality and nationality influenced and were influenced by society at large. There’s even a page at the end of the zine dedicated to resources and references, so that players interested in learning more can know where to start.

Going into this I’d only known the broadest shapes of the era, and I was very excited to learn about ways society seemed to be expressing interest in diversity— this romantic idea that New Yorkers at large were going out to speakeasies, immigrant neighborhoods, jazz clubs, queer dances, and encountering all sorts of other lifestyles and backgrounds— but when I started doing the reading it turns out that these interactions served to reify existing hierarchies as much as they transgressed against them.

And then the years rush ahead through the Great Depression, WWII, and McCarthyism, all of which exacerbate expressions of social backlash and undermine tentative steps made towards civil progress.

All this is to say that the past is a different place, not a kinder one.

I have, however, made a serious effort to research and represent all the people living in the city, not just the ones in most easy reach. What this directly translates to is mention and often discussion of things like the black press, targeted enforcement of new immigration laws, police raids on cross-racial or queer dances, and so forth throughout the zine… though it’s difficult to fit all the nuance required within just 40 pages, especially when those pages also have to convey the core game mechanics and process of play.

One thing that drove me to set the game in the 1920s was this article talking about Harlem’s Hamilton Lodge Ball, where hundred of queer men and women annually danced in joyful defiance of prevailing gender and sexual norms. These events became a sensation, with thousands from all over the city showing up to observe and sometimes take part; notables in attendance include Nora Holt and Wallace Thurman, even the Vanderbilts and Astors. The newspapers at the time treat this with a range between shock and fascination, but I can’t help but smile when I picture it— twirling on the dance floor, fancy suits and gowns, and people from all over the city celebrating.

I’ve tried to make the game as much about players encountering and protecting this positive parts of life in the city, as it is about mystery, magic, and the dangers that are encroaching.

What kind of mechanics do you use in Dangerous Time for things like investigation, violence, and other things that might come up?

This is actually the area that’s seeing the most change, as I continue to playtest and refine what I’ve developed.

The setting and the mechanics are meant to reinforce each-other, but I’ve also tried to keep them out of the way of the real point, which is telling stories. So there’s some simple outcome randomization using six-sided die, but there’s also a mechanic in place that lets players spend this resource— credibility— to ignore the dice.

So for example this lets me keep reporters very squishy, only distinguishing between “healthy”, “injured”, and “dead”, because the transition between these states is almost always intentional.

The idea is that reporters sometimes exaggerate how dramatic a situation is for the sake of selling more papers, so when you spend credibility to succeed at something it actually means somebody, somewhere in this article that your building, was lying.

And of course credibility is important when figuring out the outcome of an adventure, because you might survive the big encounter only to find nobody believes what you’re printing, and then the world gets worse instead of better. Maybe dying for your ideals was the smarter choice.

Then there’s the investigation, which is where I’ve been doing a lot of iteration lately. I’ve been toying with different ways to have players encounter and build stories, but one piece I think I’ve finally got down is the start of everything— the staff meeting.

The latest version has the editor (the player who runs the game) stating a fact about the world and then questioning the other players about it.

So you open the meeting with “Rats and pigeons have been dying”, “Strange sounds drift through the air”, “Discarded bits of clothing keep turning up” and then start asking questions. Why are the rats dying?

Where are they finding the clothing? When are the sounds being heard?

Who told you about this? What does this other group say about it? Make it weirder! Do they contradict each-other?

These become the rumors players investigate, and with a little bit of work by the editor they get incorporated into and reshape the various archetypal plots written in the zine.

An illustration of an individual in a trenchcoat covertly walking. The text reads "You weren't planning to dodge bullets and mad cultists today, but it seems every two-bit crook knows a little magic now. It's up to your own wits and magic tricks to get this story printed. Who knows? Enough readers and you might just change the world."

What are the kinds of experiences and actions players can have in Dangerous Times? What do they do, and what do they feel?

Mechanically and thematically, Dangerous Times is a game about determining truth, and working out how a bunch of truths all fit together into a narrative.

Players start the game by generating rumors and leads, then tell stories about how their reporters follow up on those leads. Dice rolling is used to give guidance during this process, letting players know when a scene should provide answers or raise more questions. They also make decisions about who pursues what leads, when to use magic or break laws during the investigation, when to split up and investigate more leads, or to focus on one lead together, reducing danger and increasing the chance it’ll pan out.

All the while players are accruing trouble, which eventually comes calling, and they’ll use their dice, skills, and other resources to get out of it— or they go out in a blaze of glory, getting one last epic moment before they fall.

Finally publication starts, and players have to take all these facts and rumors and fit them together into articles, coming up with witty headlines for bonus points. The paper’s credibility, circulation, and debts come together to influence decisions about what gets printed, and then the impacts of the publication on the world and the newspaper’s future are discussed.

Ideally players start out with interest and confusion, and as the story progresses they get that slow, awesome sense of the facts coming together. They feel pressure brewing as trouble builds up, and they make decisions about which risks are worth taking. When the trouble finally happens, they feel excitement and danger, but also in control— players are the ultimate arbiter over their character’s fate, and they’ll have to weigh when sacrifices are worthwhile. During publication they get to look back on the adventure, recapping all those feelings mixed together with hope, satisfaction, or regret.

Finally, in a game called Dangerous Times, I have to wonder, how do you plan to encourage safe and respectful play at the table?

The way tabletop gamers have thought critically on player safety, developing tools and methods to encourage everyone has a good time, is one of the things I like best about this hobby. Coming from video games, where the discussion really isn’t there yet, it’s like a breath of fresh air. So of course I’m happy to reference things like Lines & Veils and the X-card, so players new to the hobby or unfamiliar with these concepts can play with a safety net.

As to the design itself, well. Dangerous Times opens with a staff meeting, and there’s a note in the zine about using starting that off with a quick conversation about the things players do and don’t want to see. It’s my hope that this becomes a natural place to establish boundaries, proffer ideas, and flavor the tone of upcoming play. If someone mentions they find baseball boring but love ghost stories, the group can keep that in mind as they start building rumors and playing the game. With luck this normalizes the times when people need to draw boundaries, whether that’s to avoid deep-seated trauma or just because they’ve had a shitty day.

Addressing the other part of your question, one of the things I’ve been very careful with the plotlines inside the booklet is to keep them (hopefully, respectfully) adjacent to reality— players encounter history and fix fantasy. So there’s no rushing in and suddenly solving real-world injustices that persist into the present, at least in the booklet as written. I think it’s fine if players want to play that way, but it’s not the game I wanted to write. Instead I’ve provided supernatural and imaginary plots, noted parallels to real history, and tasked editors with “making the real unreal”— drawing inspiration from the real world, but making it into something everyone can feel comfortable playing with.

I’d be happy if the experience of playing can be informative and challenging, but first and foremost it has to be enjoyable. It’s my hope that the game can support both hard-hitting encounters with history as well as light-hearted escapism. Groups can and should play at their own comfort levels— the twenties were a terrible, dangerous time, but also one that could have promised a better future. If nothing else, playing in that space should be fun.

An illustration of a medium with cards in front of them, with swirling spectres behind them. The text reads "Based on real history, but with real magic...This is a world where magicians' tricks actually work, and the secrets behind them have just been published worldwide. Anyone can dabble in magic, and those of a villainous bent are more dangerous than ever before."

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Thanks so much to Michael for the interview! I hope you all enjoyed it and that you’ll check out Dangerous Times on Kickstarter today!

Five or So Questions on Rosenstrasse

Today I’m so excited to share that I have an interview with Dr. Jessica Hammer and Moyra Turkington on their game Rosenstrasse, which is currently on Kickstarter! I hope you enjoy hearing what these amazing women have to say about this project – check it out below!

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A person in a sweater leans over a table to write on a form. The table has the character sheets, cards, and book of Rosenstrasse spread out for use.

Tell me a little about Rosenstrasse. What excites you about it?

JH: The Rosenstrasse story is an incredible story of non-violent protest and resistance to unjust authority. The game puts you inside marriages between Jewish and “Aryan” Germans. You play out what I like to call “ten years of marriage in three hours”; then, at the end of the game, the female characters have the chance to protest the roundup of the Jewish men in their lives. The historical protest we’re exploring was spontaneous, women-led, non-violent – and successful. That’s something we want to remember. At the same time, we remember that even these women, who were willing to stand up to the Reich, didn’t do so until their own families were on the line. We can honor their courage and still aspire to do better next time.

MT: A lot of things! Jess has the first thing that comes to mind – it is history that belies the story we’re told about our effective potential to affect oppressive regimes and that makes it an urgently important story to me in our current political climate. But I’ll also pick one that I don’t often mention – that it’s designed to be very procedurally easy to run! Unlike many games that require GM skill sets that experienced gamers take for granted (world building, scene framing, narrative positioning, mechanical management) Rosenstrasse takes care of the lion’s share of that work for you. In this game, the primary GM skill is emotional calibration – listening to a scene until it has reached an emotional place of fulfillment, asking questions to reveal how characters are processing the events in their lives, and checking in to make sure players are coping with the material. Because these are core emotional intelligence skills rather than specialized GM skills, this makes the game accessible to folks who have historically found GMing daunting – and as a result we’re seeing better representation among facilitators.

The photo shows the game materials for Rosenstrasse including the book, colored cards ranging from dark to light purple, a form, and further cards with character names in orange and blue.

What inspired you to create the game specifically as a live action experience?

MT: Rosenstrasse is actually a hybrid larp & tabletop game so groups can play it as a live or tabletop experience. Because most of the gameplay involves the emotional negotiation between two people, the delineation between tabletop and larp start to naturally blur anyway; a scene where a husband and wife have a difficult conversation at a kitchen table looks and feels very similar in either game mode. When I run the game, I tend to do so in larp mode because I find that embodied roleplay is a powerful conduit to adopting the headspace and heartspace of the character, especially when there are strong relationship ties. I think that the emotion follows the body and vice versa.

JH: In contrast to Mo, I tend to run Rosenstrasse closer to a tabletop. Players still get to have meaningful in-character conversations where they embody their characters verbally and physically, but adopt a very different relationship to the game materials. For example, players in this mode often describe experiencing the card deck as a ticking clock, counting down to new horrors. This sense of dread is palpable at the table and very powerful for play.

What is the game like in play – what emotions do players normally experience, and what do they physically do?

JH: The game comes with eight pre-generated characters, and more than eighty scenes for them to encounter. In a typical scene, players get the description of a situation – for example, maybe two of the characters are going to work on the morning after Kristallnacht – and then a prompt for role-play. Prompts typically ask the characters to have a conversation, react to the situation being described, or show how their marriage changes.

MT: The game is meant to feel like an elegy – a thoughtful observance of the loss of security, dignity, freedom, and selfhood incurred under an oppressive regime. But it’s also a game about resilience and resistance – players through their characters struggle to hold on – or sometimes to let go. They discover that in an active genocide, that the minutiae of living and thinking and loving are themselves, resistance. The game play is often quiet, somber and serious – one where everyone shares a deep breath before the next scene because the story just keeps on getting harder. But there’s also moments of lightness, bright love, and true courage that also make it bearable.

A person is leaned over a table or desk writing on a document, next to a document listing various information to support play.

What kind of research did you need to do to create Rosenstrasse?

MT: Research for historical games about people in marginalized situations can be hard. And it becomes harder still when you try to uncover their stories from a time where oppressive regimes have a stronghold on the narrative in which even documentation of your own story can be prosecuted as a treasonous crime against the state. You can double this down once more in a locus of war (Berlin) where victors literally displace the regime and with it wrest control of the story to broadcast their own victory. Stories get lost, they get distorted, they get overwritten – the stories of victims get defined by their victimhood in service to the vilification of the enemy and the righteousness of the victor.

For Rosenstrasse we got very lucky in that an academic named Nathan Stoltzfus found the thread of the Rosenstrasse protests early enough to locate people who were actually impacted, and to collect their first hand accounts of the events. Those first-hand accounts became the heart of our research and our design. And since that work, many other academics have focused on the story and it has become a locus of debate in Resistance Studies – so for research we situated ourselves in the lives of people who told their story and followed as many threads as we could find outward until we felt we could create a palpable feel of what it was like to live in that time.

JH: While Mo focused on the historical research, I spent a lot of time looking into the challenges of Holocaust education. I have a lot of experience designing and studying educational games – that’s actually part of my day job as a professor at CMU – but Holocaust education has some pretty specific challenges that we needed to understand. For example, Holocaust games can backfire if they make the player feel that they could have done a better job in the circumstances. That can lead them to have contempt, not empathy, for the targets of Nazi persecution. So, we did research to identify these challenges, looked at what’s been done before, and specifically targeted our design to address them. Our research with the game so far, and our observations of playtesting, suggest that we’re succeeding!

A woman with short dark hair in a dark green shirt sits on a yellow couch beside a large bookcase full of books and games, and in front of her is a table with game materials from Rosenstrasse. She holds a copy of the Rosenstrasse in her hands, presenting it to the camera. — Dr. Jessica Hammer, one of the creators of Rosenstrasse.

How is Rosenstrasse important to you as a creator, and as a person?

JH: I’ve been making transformational games for nearly twenty years, and I’ve rarely seen a game that has this kind of power. It’s humbling and a bit frightening to know that you’ve made a game that deeply impacts players. But, I’ve brought everything that’s in me to the table – my work with transformational games, my commitment to activism, my expertise in psychology and instructional design, my family history, my love of role-playing games – and I think that creates a special kind of alchemy.

I’m particularly grateful that Mo agreed to dedicate the game to my grandmother, Helen Hammer. She survived five different camps, including Auschwitz, and went on to live a life of intellectual commitment, grace, and dignity. I was particularly close to her growing up. She pushed me to read bigger, think bigger, adventure bigger; she wanted me to have a vision of the world as it could be, not just of the world as it was. She died when I was still in college, so I hope this game stands as a testament to her memory.

MT: Rosenstrasse has a harmony that’s critically important to me. Its historical focus, its design, the story it tells, the player experience, the impact of play, my personal goals as a creative activist, and the design relationship Jess and I have built are all aligned with a harmony that’s incredibly satisfying. I will forever be grateful that Jess agreed to do this work with me – it has been a uniquely fulfilling and powerful experience, and I am humbled by her trust and her courage.

The cover of Rosenstrasse with the subtitle "A story of love and survival, Berlin, 1933-1943." It features two figures offset, from the shoulders up, facing away from each other. One figure is orange, the other is in dark blue. The word "Rosenstrasse" is set in all caps over these figures, and the base of the figures melds together to form the skyline of Berlin, upside down.

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Amazing! Thank you to Jessica and Moyra both for the interview! I hope you all enjoyed it, and that you’ll check out Rosenstrasse on Kickstarter today!

Five or So Questions on Bite Me!

Today I have an interview with Becky Annison about Bite Me! a game about werewolf packs that’s currently on Kickstarter and sounds awesome! Check out what Becky has to say below.

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Tell me about Bite Me! What excites you about it?

Bite Me! is a game about the emotional life of a werewolf pack. So it has mechanics for superhuman action and also mechanics for emotional connection and dealing with the fall out of the violence in your life.

I love games that dive deep into a mess of pressure cooker relationships. A werewolf pack is my perfect setting for that. It has 4 essential elements:

the fear of losing control of the monster inside,
the created family who share something that sets them apart,
the threat of a violent end, and
people closer to their emotional states and less able to hide how they feel.

Bite Me! uses those elements to keep the drama and tension high whilst doing the work for you to make the characters and the players feel like they are part of a pack. I’ve taken some of my learning on organisational culture from my MBA and baked it into the game to really make that a powerful part of the experience.

It is also a Powered by the Apocalypse game and that excites me a lot for two reasons: first because PbtA is a powerful engine for creating this cascade of action which gets out of control fast, and control is a huge theme in the werewolf genre. But secondly because the playbooks and moves allow you to design a very precise gaming experience for a given setting or genre. So, this is absolutely a game with a big theme of control, but the moves and skins in Bite Me! allow a group to also explore sharing emotions, having heartfelt conversations and having relationships in the centre of a storm of violence.

Most of all this game excites me because it is absolutely the game I’d want someone to run for me.

Tell me more about using your MBA! What did you bring forward, and how did you apply it to the game?

In my MBA I did a lot of work on how a culture can define an organisation even to the extent of eclipsing some pretty important things like strategy. I came to realise that culture is a powerful tool, but more than that – it already exists. It sits at the gaming table with us. And that got me thinking, if we have such a powerful thing sitting alongside us then shouldn’t we be using it? Shouldn’t we be designed games for it – to make sure that the culture doesn’t eat our carefully designed settings and systems.

I’ve designed this game with culture in mind. Deliberately using and establishing culture both in and out of character to replicate that sense of camaraderie that exists both in Packs and close gaming groups. Character advancement (in part) is tied to expressing and sharing culture as a Pack and every in-joke you share should make the game feel that much more gripping and heartfelt. One of my favourite things it when you experience a genuine moment of camaraderie at the gaming table. A moment that lights up your heart in a way that is shared with everyone else in your gaming group. I wanted to make a game that acknowledged and even facilitated that experience.

With such an emotional environment, considering the elements of family, struggle, and relationships, how do you handle safety and consent in the game?

I think that safety and consent is one of the hardest and most important conversations in our hobby right now. I recommend for Bite Me! a set of three different tools to help everyone at the gaming table take care of each other.

I like to start all my games by establishing a list of topics we agree not to bring into the game, a ‘Banned List’. This can be done anonymously or not as the needs of the players require and everyone including the MC is encouraged to use the opportunity to define what they want to keep out of the game. This allows players to veto things in advance. But of course you don’t always know in advance what stuff is going to come up in a game, and gaming is on ongoing exercise in consent. So we need tools to use during the game as well as before we start. In Bite Me! I recommend that groups investigate the X-card and your own Script Change techniques and I talk about how they might use one or both of those in a game. I think that the X-card is good for when someone who gets in real trouble and needs to shut down a piece of play quickly with no questions asked, and it can be used very effectively to remind people of the Banned List if someone forgets and accidentally references something on that list in the heat of the moment. Script Change is particularly amazing for when something needs to be adjusted in a game but everyone is either comfortable with more discussion or actively needs to discuss it and it gives better clarity over what the problematic element is and how best to deal with it.

When I started role-playing there were no discussions around safety techniques or any widely known tools. I don’t think we are at the end of figuring out safety because it always must be calibrated to the needs of the players in the game at the time and it is and should be an ongoing conversation. But I’m really glad we are having those conversations now and I’m always looking to see what the next advances in the discussion will be. But these are just tools. It would be great if we could roll them out like an encumbrance table or a bunch of Moves and have it all work like a smooth set of mechanics should do. Ultimately though games are conversations between real, warm human beings with all our messy emotions and culture and relationships. The tools are great – but they won’t work if we don’t prioritise the safety and comfort of our people at the gaming table, even over the fun of others.

In the written game text all I can do is encourage people to prioritise caring for each other and give them some tools. At my own gaming table I use these tools but I watch and listen, I check in with my players before, during and after tough scenes and I make it clear in the culture of my table that the people I sit with matter more than the game. I don’t get it perfect – messy human feelings will always be a work in progress. But we need to keep working on it.

A woman with tight braids and tattoos standing in front a forest filled with mist and wolves.

What are the important differences and similarities between werewolf media and Bite Me! as a game? What might players be excited to find in Bite Me! that they might not find elsewhere?

I consume quite a lot of werewolf media (unsurprisingly) and I love it. But as a gamer, every time I find a film or book that I love I’m always thinking – ‘what is it I’m really excited about here, and how can I put that into a game!’ The cool thing about gaming is getting to experience stories as an active participant, instead of a passive consumer. I’ve put a lot of what I love about Werewolves (and my interpretation of them) into this game. The mechanics get you experiencing the closeness of pack life, the knife edge of control and the temptation to become violent or dominant to get the job done. But the one thing I’m hoping all players will get is that flash of genuine and heartfelt camaraderie both in and out of character; in the moment when the pack puts its differences aside, when the pack member you hate saves you because you are pack, when the Alpha sacrifices their life for the good of the group. Those are the things I hope that gamers will get to feel instead of observe. In terms of werewolf lore e.g. the full moon’s influence, being bitten or born a werewolf, the effects of silver or wolfsbane etc – all these things are for the players to decide on at the table. There is so much wolf mythology out there and I’d like the players to pick and choose their favourite bits to play with. There is no ‘Becky’s Definitive Guide to Werewolves’ because what I love about the stories maybe very different to someone else and the core of the system is the story of the pack anything else should feed that dynamic.

Tell me about building a pack, and how you create that culture. How does this play out at the table? What are some fun results you’ve had in playtesting?

The pack has a playbook of its own which includes powerful Pack Moves. But you only get access to those Moves when you have accumulated enough Pack Pool, using the emotion-sharing Moves. The pack playbook is also where the players will agree and record their Culture and Traditions. Culture is the outward signifiers revealing who is in the pack and who is not. You might choose a certain style of clothing, slang wordsor rituals around food to show belonging. Displaying culture in scenes does two things, firstly it will make you feel more like a pack.

Secondly it will tick off your boxes to get you advancements for your character. Culture always emerges in social groups – in the ttrpg world we have our own cultural touchstones like D&D (even if we don’t all play it), we have our shared language and slang which often comes from the games. Bite Me! leverages the fact we do that anyway and channels it into the pack experience. If our gaming group is going to come up with some slang, then let’s do it in the game as well and make it feel like we are a pack. When I MC I make sure I’m using that slang in and out of character and addressing my players as my packmates even when I’m doing the admin around arranging sessions. In game play I usually find that one or two of the created words really stick and when people start using those words in and out of character you’ve hit the jackpot – completing the culture of cycle into and out from the game.

Tradition are also another aspect of pack culture but they are more like the laws of the pack, things that would incur a serious punishment if breached. They should be thorny, throw up moral dilemmas and create unstable situations. Examples might be ‘Never reveal yourself as a Wolf to a human’, ‘Never eat a human’, ‘Only Alpha’s may create Wolves’. Once the players have agreed what the rules are I then tell the MC to ask one more question ‘Which PC has broken a tradition and which PC is keeping their secret (for now)?’ This gives a couple of players the chance to start with an extra tense situation which will strongly inform their relationship.

One of the best examples I’ve seen of that is the pack who had the Tradition that ‘All relationships with humans must be disposable’, at the start of the game one of the characters had just married their human boyfriend and the youngest member of the Pack had seen an incriminating text message. Setting that up changed the entire trajectory of the relationship between them and it was very powerful as the younger packmate wrestled with the conflict of loyalty that it created

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Thanks so much to Becky for the interview! I hope you all enjoyed it and that you’ll check out Bite Me! on Kickstarter today!

Five or So Questions on Comrades

Today I have an interview with W.M. Akers about Comrades, a tabletop RPG currently on Kickstarter! W.M. Akers is also author of Westside, a mystery novel you can find on preorder. Check out the interview below!

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A red background with yellow text in all-caps saying "Comrades" beside a raised fist.

Tell me about Comrades. What excites you about it?

Comrades is a new RPG about life in the revolutionary underground. I’ve been working on it off and on since 2017 and I am just in love with it. I created it because I wanted to give people who fall anywhere on the left of the political spectrum a chance to engage with their history and remember how it feels to fight, body and soul, for a cause.

The game is based on the Apocalypse World engine, which I love both because it’s so perfectly designed for depicting the dynamics of tightly-knit groups of adventurers and because it’s jaw-droppingly easy to teach. I designed this game for hardcore gamers and novices alike, and the Apocalypse World system is the best I’ve found for welcoming new players to the table.

A red background with yellow text in all-caps saying "The Patron" next to a black outline of a black woman holding a drink.

How have you altered the AW engine to suit Comrades as a system?

I tinkered with a lot of different changes to the AW engine, and found during playtesting that the simpler I kept things, the better the game played. There are a few basic moves deliberately crafted to evoke the revolutionary atmosphere of Comrades—”Start Something,” for instance, which gives players a way to incite a crowd to riot, protest, or strike. Any other changes I made were designed to make the system easier to teach and understand.

I’ve also created an optional system for structuring the campaign, Pathways to Revolution, which allows parties to advance along one or more of five tracks, each of which represents a different approach to making a revolution. Each level offers advantages, culminating in an opportunity to seize power in the method best suited to the group.

What gave you the idea for Comrades, and what are some steps you’ve taken in design to make it happen?

I’ve been obsessed with leftist history since I was in high school. The Russian Revoluton, the Spanish Civil War, the guerrilla movements of the ’60s and ’70s… I am fascinated by the way that the ideals of those on the left collide with reality, and the endless tragedies that result when their dreams are destroyed by infighting, cynicism, or simple bad luck. I wanted to make a game that dramatized the infighting and quixotic daring common to revolutionary movements throughout history, and to give players the chance to express their own frustrations with modern politics in a fun, constructive way. Because of its emphasis on the dynamics of tightly-knit groups, the AW engine was a natural fit.

A red background with yellow text in all-caps saying "The Mystic" beside a black outline of a bearded man in a loose shirt.

Tell me more about Pathways to Revolution. It sounds fascinating! What sort of experiences do players have in these tracks, and what kinds of tracks are there?

There are five tracks: Force, Organization, Zealotry, Mayhem, and Fellowship. Each one correlates to one of the game’s five stats, and each is designed to give players the opportunity to make a revolution in their own way.

If the party is interested in forging a legitimate path to power, they may pursue Organization, which provides logistical bonuses while making the party more acceptable to the mainstream. At the fifth rank of that Pathway, they can call for elections and attempt to win power democratically. If they prefer to rely on the support of the mob, they’ll rise through Zealotry, which eventually gives them the opportunity to win power via a series of massive, wild demonstrations. In most campaigns, of course, different factions within each party will want to pursue different pathways—creating the tensions inherent in any revolutionary movement.

I designed these both to reflect the wide variety of real-life revolutions, and to give players more than one way to “win” the game. Because there are bloodless ways to gain power, players who choose to pursue a more violent Pathway—like Force or Mayhem—must reckon with the consequences of that choice.

A red background with yellow text in all-caps saying "The Thug" next to a black outline of a woman holding a baseball bat.

How have you elected to handle and frame violence as a part of the game, and what do you feel is important about that?

Violence is a part of Comrades, just as it is for nearly every roleplaying game. Because this game takes place in a more realistic setting than most RPGs, it was intensely important to me that it be presented in a responsible way. Players are free to do whatever think necessary to achieve their goals, but the GM is instructed to make this “a game of consequences, in which violence solves little and no death—even that of a villain—goes unmourned.”

I believe that all violence is abhorrent and all life is sacred, and while I think it’s okay to act out violent situations in gameplay, it has to be done with thought and care. I hope that the rules I’ve written will empower GM and players to do just that.

A red background with a raised fist in yellow.

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Thanks so much to W.M. Akers for the interview! I hope you all enjoyed the interview and that you’ll check out Comrades on Kickstarter today!

Five or So Questions on Jinkies!

Today I’ve got an interview with Toby Strauss on the new game Jinkies! Jinkies! is currently on Kickstarter and is very Scooby-inspired, so I’m excited! I hope you like what Toby has to say below.

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Tell me a little about Jinkies! What excites you about it?

First off, I was beside myself with happiness when you spelled Jinkies! with the exclamation point. During my research, I was amused that the original 1969 “Scooby Doo, Where are You!” used an exclamation point, and not a question mark, on the title card. Isn’t that odd? But I love it. There’s a certain energy to the (incorrect) punctuation that I find kitschy and charming. I couldn’t not use it for the game.

Jinkies! is a powered by the apocalypse adventure game based on the Hannah-Barbara cartoons from around 50 years ago. If you’ve ever seen Scooby Doo, Josie and the Pussycats, Jabberjaw, or Dune Buggy, you’re on the right track. Like Monsterhearts or Dungeon World, the players can choose from playbooks based on the archetypes from the shows. These characters go on adventures, unmasking bad guys and ne’er do wells pretending to be nefarious monsters.

One of the things that I’m especially excited about is how Jinkies! handles clues. Visual clues and puzzles are really hard to do right in tabletop RPGs. Most of the time, the GM drops the “path critical” clues in the laps of the players just to move things along. I really puzzled over how to handle clues until I realized something important: Hannah Barbara cartoons aren’t about the mystery. The mystery is just a setting. The cartoons are really about the adventure, the creepy suspect, and the wacky gang. Jinkies! approaches clues with the mindset that it is the adventure, not the clue, that’s important. This means that the bad guy for a given module can change from playthrough to playthrough, but I think that’s ok. This is why I used PbtA for my mechanics. Players and GMs in Jinkies! are just playing to find out.

Another thing that I love about Jinkies! is that there is no combat in the game. Interestingly, combat was in the very first draft of the game . . . and it was a disaster. The playtesters overwhelmingly rejected it; the genre is nonviolent by design and combat just didn’t feel right. Instead of swords and hitpoints, Jinkies! turns on scares and “fear” points. Its a great system that makes the world feel scary and dangerous without misplaced violence. I’m proud of how it turned out!

How do the mechanics work to result in scares and fear points, and what do those do?

If you watch one of the old Hannah-Barbara mystery cartoons, you’ll notice that no one gets hurt. Instead, there’s a sort of asymmetrical nonviolence between the protagonists and the antagonist. The protagonists act through ensnarement and logic–capture the bad guy and explain the crime. The antagonist acts through fear–if the kids are scared enough, they’ll run away and let the bad guy finish his misdeeds.

I tried to mirror this in Jinkies! The player characters “assault” the bad guy by 1) finding clues, and 2) setting and triggering a trap for the bad guy. They cannot inflict fear points on the bad guy, but the bad guy can inflict fear on the player characters.

Fear works a lot like HP, but it is only inflicted by the bad guy, and it leads to fainting from fear, not physical harm. So let’s say the ghost pirate flies right through Joe the Leader. That’s pretty scary! Joe takes a point of fear.

There are a number of ways that fear can be mitigated. Several playbooks have the ability to avoid taking earned fear points (“Joe, using his inner strength, shrugs off the ghostly attack!”). The “weird one” playbook (think Shaggy from Scooby Doo) not only gets fear mitigation, he can use fear to fuel unique abilities. The weird one in these shows is always afraid–I couldn’t help but give him fear fueled powers!

When it all comes together, its a surprisingly seamless experience. No one seems to miss combat and the asymmetrical nature of the game is almost invisible when the game is played.

A purple and white panda with a milkshake necklace and the text "Jinkies!" — Purple Pandalot, the mascot for Jinkies! by Lil Chan.

What was playtesting like for this game, with the elements of it being so cartoonish?

A lot of my inspirations are obscure and probably unknown to many of my players–but almost everyone has seen something with Scooby Doo in it. The original cartoon aired way back in 1969 and there have been dozens of spin-offs, movies, and sequels–not to mention the lasting power of syndication. That ubiquity has made Jinkies! accessible to almost everyone who has played the game. The vast majority of my play testers have very naturally leaned into the cartoony roots of Jinkies! with little prompting.

I can only think of a single play test where the game didn’t feel like a cartoon. The players decided play the game really straight. They even decided that their animal mascot was not magical and could not talk! It felt like Dragnet, or maybe a Nancy Drew mystery. It wasn’t a bad experience, but it also wasn’t a funny one.

That play test was early in my process and I did a bit of soul searching to try and figure out how to “fix” what had gone wrong. It just didn’t feel right. In the end, though, I didn’t change very much. Most people who sign up to play Jinkies! are looking for a light-hearted, cartoony mystery adventure. My game isn’t going to be all things to all people, and that’s ok. Better to focus on making it the best at what it is!

How are you changing PbtA fundamentals to suit the different tone and themes, like rewriting basic moves and so on?

Interesting questions!

If a player came to Jinkies! from another PbtA game they would find the mechanics familiar. Jinkies! is still very much a “play to find out” game. There are basic moves, playbook moves, and animator moves. Jinkies! uses 2D6 for its randomizer. Very PbtA in the fundamentals.

I diverge pretty heavily in the moves themselves. PbtA was developed for a very blood-thirsty setting, after all–and Jinkies! is based on a family-friendly cartoon! I excised ALL combat moves and added heavily to the investigative moves. I also changed the Animator moves, hewing closer to the genre than Apocalypse World moves could.

I also break with most PbtA on principles. One of the guiding principles of Dungeon World, for example, is “think dangerously.” The world of Jinkies! is sometimes scary, but it is never dangerous. I’ve rewritten the principle as “think comedically.” Another principle I changed is saying your moves out loud. This is a big no-no in most PbtA games but I actively encourage it. The Hannah-Barbara formula practically requires naming your moves. When Velma tosses Scooby a treat, she doesn’t just give him a knowing nod, she inquires “will you do the task for a Scooby Snack?” Scooby snack, in this case, is TOTALLY a move, and the verbal component is a very important (and cartoony) part of creating the feel the game is after.

What are you doing in regards to guiding table content safety, since there’s a lot of ways this could go a little gonzo or maybe just hit an unseen button of discomfort?

To the safety question: every RPG carries risks (bleed, content and trauma triggers, etc). Jinkies! is no different. In fact, I would argue that the risks of things going sideways are greater in Jinkies! than in D&D. First, it’s a comedy game. Comedy is, by definition, transgressive–and those transgressions can cut in surprisingly deep ways. Second, there is a certain subtext to the “teenagers with a wacky sidekick solving mysteries” genre that is off-color. The “Shaggy Busted” episode of “Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law” does a great job of poking fun at this subtext, if any of your readers are curious. Its fun and its funny, but it is also emotionally dangerous waters.

I’ve attempted to have my cake and eat it too by baking in two presets for content control, “normal” and “Behind the Music.” I certainly don’t object to sex or drugs being in the game–so long as everyone at the table is comfortable with it. This way the players must actively choose the “blue” version of the game, and it prompts a lines and veils-type conversation.

Second, I recommend the use of an X card system. Even in a game where boundaries have been drawn ahead of time, things can get messy fast. I find that X cards are indispensable safety tools. Finally, I explicitly instruct against gameplay that I find to be irredeemably offensive, like racism or misogyny. For example, a common trope in 1970s Hannah Barbara cartoons is the villain kidnapping a woman. This is lazy storytelling, its sexist, and it makes the game suck for the player who has been removed from gameplay. Bigotry has no place at my table or in my game.

—

Thanks so much to Toby for the great interview! I hope you all enjoyed the interview and that you’ll check out Jinkies! on Kickstarter today!

Official Statement on Perpetrators of Harm

I have puzzled for days on how to make this statement, so I hope this ends up being good enough. The Twitter statement was brief and to the point, but this needs to address some things more specifically. I do appreciate your patience.

Content Warning: Sexual assault, sexual harassment, harassment, grooming, threats, doxxing, rape, missing stairs, abuse of authority.

It starts out bad.

There was recently a statement released by Mandy Morbid and two others, Jennifer and Hannah, all ex-partners of Zak Smith (a.k.a Zak Sabbath, a.k.a. IHitItWithMyAxe, a.k.a. dndwithpornstars). The statement described domestic and sexual abuse by Zak towards the women in some detail (link here, content warning for domestic and sexual abuse, ableism). It was followed up by a statement by Vivka Grey reporting similar issues (link here, content warnings for domestic and sexual abuse, toxic objectification).

The internet in indie and OSR gaming erupted. It spilled elsewhere, too. Zak has been a troublesome member of our community for some time – people have been reporting his harassing, threatening behavior for around a decade, including many marginalized people who were pushed out of the community by the bad behavior or by backlash after reporting. Some people were pushing to excise him immediately, others wanted his story. Some of us got caught up in community in-fighting that served to muddy the waters, but I think it’s beginning to clear.

I will give full disclosure that, by my experiences, Zak has made my life more difficult. The actions of his supporters have done so, as well, including some people who will go on without ever apologizing or making up for it, I know that. I don’t trust a lot of people because of Zak. I think his actions have threatened my professional career and they have been part of the impetus for the clinical acute paranoia and trauma triggers I suffered that partially led to me having to leave my rather lucrative corporate job in 2015. Yes, I was vulnerable in the first place. That doesn’t mean that making it worse through ill behavior was a kind and loving thing to do.

That means it is easier for me to make a statement that I will not publish articles supporting his work, that I will not go to conventions that support his work. However, Zak is not the only missing stair in our community (link to blog post about what missing stairs are, content warning for sexual assault and rape). There are people I used to work for who have done harm too, and one of those has been public since around the Harassment in Indie Games series I did in 2017, but I didn’t make a public statement. I should have.

It gets worse.

Matthew McFarland, someone who I have interviewed for Thoughty and who I have worked for while doing the Demon: Interface project, is a serial predator. Cheyenne Grimes came out about this in 2018 to IGDN (link to Cheyenne’s recent post, content warning for sexual assault and trauma), and the investigation that occurred then is being re-investigated because at the time, Michelle Lyons-McFarland was IGDN president. When Matt was removed from RPG.net as mod, reportedly Michelle was still a mod and helped to prevent further survivors from speaking up. Some of those survivors like Luka Carroll have spoken up publicly (link here, updated link here, content warning for grooming and assault and specifically noting relation to trans individuals as targets.)

I am angry about this. I am bitter that this entire situation occurred, that Matt could keep doing harm, that it was covered up, that people were ever harmed at all. I am angry I ever promoted Matt, or considered him a friend. The thing is, Matt is not the only person I have had an experience like this with.

There is a situation some people find themselves in where they know secrets. These secrets are very important, and if they confessed them, maybe someone could be protected. But if they confess them, maybe someone could be hurt very badly. This is the peril of knowing about missing stairs in the community, and knowing on behalf of their survivors or yourself. I know about multiples of these and until I am authorized to do so by the survivors or those currently affected, I won’t release the information. I made that choice. It still feels absolutely vile. I am angry about it every single day.

In for a band aid, surgery later.

That’s part of why I have taken on some specific rules that I talked about on Twitter.

Understand forgiveness is hard and complicated.
Work toward it anyway.
Don’t harass, doxx, or threaten anyone for any reason ever.
Take care of yourself.
Take care of each other.
Remember that infighting is what bad actors want.
Center the survivors.
Try to love, if you can.

Sounds harder than anything right now, honestly. But, I’m trying. With these comes people making statements, and sometimes those statements are less than great. I’m not linking to the good ones or the bad ones. I don’t have that time.

What I do have time to do is give my statement. The official Thoughty word, as it were, here on the blog, not just on Twitter. This is what I can do right now. What I will do going forward, a bit, but it’s a now. How do we fix our fractured community? How do we build bridges between indie and OSR and trad when somehow they’ve all been blown up by this? How do we deal with the fact that there are missing stairs everywhere, and they mostly remain some charismatic fuckers? I can’t tell you that.

I can tell you to learn about DARVO, the way abusers behave when called out (link here, content warning for discussion of abuse and trauma), and when someone is an asshole, don’t blame it on the internet. I can tell you to practice apologizing well. I can tell you to check those rules I just shared and follow them. And I can tell you this:

I love you. Even if you fuck up, I will love you. All I ever ask of you is to try to be better. If you are doing bad things, stop doing them. Apologize. Try to make up for it. Don’t hurt the people any more than you already have. If you’re not doing anything bad, keep an eye out for the things that might make you slip up. We all fuck up. Thoughty isn’t a site only to promote and praise the perfect, but we had better do a damn good exercise in trying if we want to make the world stay alive for tomorrow. I expect you to be better. Every chance you get.

The Official Thoughty Statement

Thoughty supports survivors of abuse and harassment and believes them.

This platform is not a space for anyone who perpetrates acts of harassment, abuse, or violence, especially against marginalized individuals. Thoughty will not post to promote or endorse these perpetrators on the main site or on social media.

I will not attend or endorse conventions without an effective and enforced code of conduct, and if I know a known perpetrator is a guest, I will not attend or endorse.

Thoughty can and will refuse any and all submissions for interviews, features, reviews, or endorsement if there is a publicly or privately known allegation of abuse or harassment that I can in any way reference.* If I am made aware of an allegation after posting an article, I will assess whether it is safe to contact the accused to let them know they can appeal, and whether it is or not, I will take the post down or post a warning at the top of the post based on the perspective of the survivor if I am able to obtain it.

I reserve the right to take down posts or apply warnings at the top for any reason, even beyond this, because the safety of my readers is paramount.

If you are aware of a post I have up that supports a perpetrator of harm in our community, please notify me using my content form and I will assess it as appropriate. Please understand I am running the site on my own, so things may take time, but they will be resolved to the best of my ability.

Thank you for your time and attention on this big post! And thank you for taking this in, and moving forward for the better. Believe survivors!

*ETA 2/16/19 5:31pm – changed “confirm” to “reference.” The former is not what I meant. I just mean I need to know what the allegation is.

Five or So Questions on The Playmaker Awards

Hi all! Today I have an interview with Richard Williams, who hosts The Playmaker Awards and is running a Kickstarter focused on them! This sounds like a fascinating initiative and I hope you’ll all check out the interview below and the awards themselves!

—

A pair of cards thanking Sean Nittner for his work at Big Bad Con with a Thank You note from Sean. — This is so cute!

Tell me a little about The Playmaker Awards. What excites you about them?

The Playmakers are a set of awards not for great rpg designers, game-runners or even players, but rather for the people who work hard doing the admin and scudwork creating spaces for others to play roleplaying games.

So this might be someone who runs a convention, or the rpg track at a convention, someone who keeps a local meetup or open gaming group going. It could be in-person or online. Or it could be an entirely different way of creating space for others unique to them.

I think we often under-value and underestimate the time and labour that goes into these roles. Or just don’t think much of it at all. When I’m heading to an rpg event I’m going there to game and that’s where my focus is, and of course I’m aware that people organised stuff so that there’d be a room and table and chairs and other players, but I don’t see that effort. I just have the end-result presented to me so I can game and enjoy myself.

But I don’t think that any of these playmakers do it for the recognition; I expect most of them consider it a sign that they’re doing a good job if the public don’t see all the effort behind the scenes – that they have as seamless and smooth as an experience as possible. But that just makes it more important that these playmakers do get recognised by others, because they’re not going to put themselves forward and yet their effort is so critical to the hobby. I played my first game at a local convention. I rely on them, both to play new games and to keep in touch with people who I only otherwise see online. What would this hobby be without them? A shadow of what it is, to be certain.

As to what excites me about the Playmaker awards: every stage of it so far. When I asked for nominations I was fascinated to see who would be put forward. When I contacted people to tell them they had won, some of them were bemused to win an award they’d never heard of, but some others – I don’t know – I think it might just have come at a time when they really needed that kind of appreciation. Announcing them was exciting as well, to see word spread. And now I’m into interviewing some of them for the Playmaker zine kickstarter, which really is a privilege for me; these folk spend so much time working for others in the hobby already, it’s very generous of them to spend more time so I can find out more about what they do and why they do it.

How are you determining who fits the category to be nominated or win?

I tried to describe as best I could the folk I wanted nominated and then I’ve trusted the people who took the time to reply to one of my posts with a nomination. My basic criteria was whether someone created space for others to play. I specifically excluded rpg design-work – I think we have a variety of different ways already of recognising great designers – and game-runners (such as DMs/GMs) and players as they are the ones who get to sit down and play.

In my mind, the most obvious candidates are con organisers – the many folk who I’ve seen standing behind a desk or walking through the con who’ve given up their weekend (and I don’t know how many hours before) so that _other people_ can play. However, I also wanted the awards to go further. I don’t know what play spaces are out there today, nor what’s involved in organising them, and so keeping the nominations more open was another means of discovery.

What is the judging process like and how do you decide winners?

I knew I definitely wasn’t the person to judge or rank the level of contribution made by each nominee. And what would the benefit be of saying that this playmaker who runs the rpg track of a massive convention is more or less deserving than this other playmaker who has been running a small rpg club all by themselves for twenty years? What criteria would make sense to use? What other factors would you consider? If I’m not the right person to judge, who is?

I saw the judging process as a big minefield and ultimately antithetical to my overall goal of both recognising their efforts and building a network of goodwill in this time of separation and fragmentation. So, in essence, I pushed the judging process to the nominators as well. If someone else thought you met the criteria and thought enough of you to nominate you then – assuming I could contact you and you were the person broadly doing what you were being nominated for – then you were a playmaker in my book.

The final judge I should mention was the playmaker themselves. My first question for all of the winners was whether they accepted (and, in fact, one of them didn’t). I wanted to make sure that everyone was comfortable, both the people nominating and the people being nominated.

And I feel trusting folk and being led by their nominations worked. While I did go back to a few nominators to get more details on their nomination, I haven’t rejected anyone for being outside of the scope of the awards and I’ve included a bunch of playmakers who I perhaps wouldn’t have heard of if I had been more restrictive.

A card thanking the Gauntlet with quotes from their supporters.

What do you think the benefit is of an awards process for playmakers?

I think it’s different for the individual and the hobby as a whole.

For the hobby, I feel that awards help define its values. I previously did annual awards for the London Indie RPG meetup and I had an award for most played game but also one for most played designer because I didn’t want someone to miss out because they’d produced a batch of fun games rather than a single one. I also had an award for most popular game runner, partly as a thank you but also to encourage others to run games as well. Finally, I included special awards that were at my discetion and went to anyone who’d brought something a bit special to the group during the year such as coming in costume or fulfilling a vow to run a certain game for someone. I think it showed that we as a group valued those who brought that little extra joy to our lives.

Similarly with the Playmakers, by having such an award and by having others support and endorse it shows that creating space for others to play is a service that we value and appreciate. Just as certain holidays remind us to thank significant people in our lives and events like GMs Day remind us to thank those who run our games, so too the Playmakers reminds us and gives us the opportunity to thank these folk as well.

As to what benefit there is to the individual? To be honest, from the beginning I knew I couldn’t provide much. I did want to give each of the Playmakers something more than just a ‘thank you’ and a blogpost, something to make the award a little more substantial, to show my own sense of gratitude and so I settled on a $20 DriveThru voucher figuring that, as the Playmakers spend so much time for others enjoyment that it’d be nice for them to buy something for themselves. At a friend’s recommendation I reached out to OneBookShelf (who are the people behind DriveThru) and they very generously agreed to sponsor 25% of the total, so I put in $15 and they made it up to $20. I knew that, depending on the response rate, by advertising the voucher while nominations were open I was essentially writing a blank cheque, but the awards were not so popular as to put me in financial difficulty!

I was fully prepared that when I started reaching out to the winners that the general response from them would be ‘Errr… thanks, I guess… who are you again?’ (and I did get that a couple of times!) But actually it was far better than I expected. Most of these folk who are so generous with their time working for other people were equally generous with me, and interested to see who else were receiving awards.

And in a few cases, just winning the award struck something deeper. I don’t know what stage each of them are in the hobby or in their lives, but I do know from my personal experience that there are harder moments. Times when I reevaluate whether my time and effort is actually benefitting anyone else or even noticed. I think in maybe a couple of cases this award has come through at one of those more reflective times and been all the more appreciated because of it.

In all, I think in some cases the best thing that has come out of it for the winner is the nomination. When I asked for nominations I didn’t really expect anything more than ‘Person A for doing Thing B’, but some of the nominations are far more detailed and far more thoughtful. And I think it’s this personal message from someone a playmaker has helped can be the greatest benefit.

Recognition cards for Réka Korcsmáros about her online RPG community and including a thank you from her.

How would you encourage playmakers to act and what would you encourage them to do to make them a more likely candidate for the awards?

Just to keep doing what they’re doing! If they’re still enjoying it then keep at it, or change it up or take a break if it’s just become a labour.

I don’t intend the awards to change anything about what the winners do, rather I’m really hoping that it will inspire others to do the same. I did originally think that the awards would end with simply announcing the winners, but further it progressed the more I realised that this would be a disservice to the concept. The nominations have been great but they’re only a tiny glimpse of the Playmakers’ stories.

To that end, as part of Kickstarter’s ZineQuest initiative in February, I’ll be crowdfunding a collection of new interviews some of the Playmakers, getting into more detail about what they do, why they do it and what they need to do it better.

It’s been great to give these folks an award and a thank you, but it has been so much more interesting to dig deeper. I hope that the final product will be a unique perspective on the state of public rpg play today and that hearing their stories will inspire others to do the same.

—

Thank you so much to Richard for the interview! I hope you all enjoyed reading it and that you’ll check out The Playmaker Awards and the Kickstarter!

Thoughty is supported by the community at ko-fi.com/Thoughty. To be featured on Thoughty, check out the contact page!

Tag: games

Quick Shot on By Aecer’s Light!

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Five or So Questions on Dangerous Times

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Five or So Questions on Bite Me!

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Five or So Questions on Comrades

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Five or So Questions on Jinkies!

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Five or So Questions on The Playmaker Awards

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What My Game Does Wrong

Focusing on Diversity

Heroes that Need Help

Humanizing the Enemy

Next Steps

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Content Warning: Sexual assault, sexual harassment, harassment, grooming, threats, doxxing, rape, missing stairs, abuse of authority.

It starts out bad.

It gets worse.

In for a band aid, surgery later.

The Official Thoughty Statement

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