The Points Don’t Matter

The Points Don’t Matter

A performative/participative game inspired by Whose Line is it Anyway?

(This might already have been done, but I felt like writing it.)

You’ll need:

~30 minutes (~10 setup/takedown, ~20 play)
8-10 players
Up to 5 audience members
Paper and pencil/pen or typed as described
Random tokens (at least 10, not more than 25)
Props if you like them – anything appropriate to an office or holiday party

Before the game, take ten folded pieces of paper (small enough to hold in hand) and on the outside write a basic description of a normal person who would attend an office or holiday party (name, profession, hobby). On the inside of half of the papers, write a description of a ridiculous character (see examples). You’ll want to mix up, add, and remove some of these every time you play.

At the start of the game, tell everyone that they must play all of the characters they are given. The character on the outside is their regular character. The character inside the card is their secret identity, and they need to act it out as well. They can do this by physical movement, vocalizing, and other behaviors, but can’t explain who or what they are. For those without an identity, they play their outside characters as though they are completely normal, and their job is to keep a straight face.

Set a timer for around 20 minutes. During this time, the players will play their parts, starting out as though they’ve just arrived and settled in at an office party. The scene proceeds as improvised, including people playing one or both character parts.

The audience will be seated near the area where the party is going on. Each audience member needs at least 2 tokens. Tokens count as points. When an audience member particularly enjoys one of the player parts and how they’re acting as a part of it, they can go into the party in a role of waitstaff or family dropping off a beverage or snack by passing a token to the player they want to reward. They can give these awards at any time during the game, but the rule is that they do not interrupt play, and the players do not acknowledge them aside from accepting the token.

At the end of the 20 minutes, play ends, and the players reveal their secret identities, if they have them. There is a round of applause, and the game ends.

Normal Person Examples:

Bill, who works in accounting. He enjoys golf.

Jenna, a manager. She rock-climbs on the weekends.

Ashton, a programmer. They do cake decorating.

Ridiculous Character Examples:

A giraffe with too short of a neck.

Someone who has just eaten multiple ghost peppers.

Ten tall men put into a small sized suit.


This post is free! Support Thoughty on patreon.com/briecs. Tell your friends!

To leave some cash in the tip jar, go to http://paypal.me/thoughty.

If you’d like to be interviewed for Thoughty, or have a project featured, email contactbriecs@gmail.com.

Convention Playtester Tips

With Metatopia upcoming, I wanted to talk a little about something I truly enjoy: playtesting.

Metatopia is a convention in New Jersey, USA run by Double Exposure. It is my favorite convention. I get to see a lot of my friends, which is great, and the atmosphere is completely bursting with creativity. I also get to playtest games, most of the time.

What is playtesting?

Playtesting is when a designer or designers gather together people to test out their game by playing it or reading it and talking about it. Typically the latter is referred to as a focus group. There are alpha playtests where the game is in very early stages, betas where it’s in a relatively playable state, and so on. There are also high test playtests, which are really intense, typically made up of experience designers as players, and focused on getting the game to its best state.

Why playtest?

You don’t have to playtest a game. Honestly! You can make a game and put it out there without playtesting it even once. I’ve done this a number of times and there’s nothing wrong with it. However, the reality is that most of the time your games will be far more refined if you playtest them. You get more input, find more of the squeaky wheels to oil, and have different perspectives. It’s useful!

How do you playtest?

There are articles out there that can walk you through playtesting from the designer or game master perspective. What I’m more interested about is how to be a playtester. After all, it’s my favorite part of games.

I am not the strongest roleplayer, nor do I understand probability basically at all. However, I can get the way games work – I can tell when something meshes well with a setting or idea, and I can help people work through what they are trying to say or do. I also can see patterns of behavior caused by mechanics. These are, thankfully, useful to playtesting.

Below I have some suggestions on what to do if you find yourself at a playtesting table. Hope you find them valuable!

  • Listen to the designer and how they describe the game and its genre, setting, and expectations. Don’t talk over them or interject your opinion. Let them set the scene. Let them have some space to share their ideas and their concerns, and ensure they know you are listening (active listening is helpful – here is an additional link with the note that obviously, not all people interact the same and eye contact is not required to be an active listener!). Don’t allow others to step over them if they look like they are uncomfortable about speaking up – speak up for them. A simple “Hey, what were you saying?” in the direction of the designer can make a difference. Keep in mind that steamrolling (people talking over others from perceived authority or privilege) can damage a playtest just as much as the designer just giving up and walking out.
  • Use all of the resources at your disposal. If there are mechanics presented, make excuses to use them in line with what happens in the game or focus group. If there are tools on the table – index cards, tokens, cards, dice – make sure you understand what they are for and make sure you at least try to introduce them to the action.
  • Ask questions. Always ask questions. If you don’t understand something, ask for clarification. If you don’t know what the designer wants from the situation, ask for their guidance. If you want to take an action and you haven’t already been given permission as part of a scene, ask to permission. If you see something missing, ask if it should be there, and if it should, how you can help introduce it, and if not, why not. If you suspect something is going to go against the theme of the game, ask why it’s done that way. Always, always ask questions – don’t assume, no matter how much of an expert you think you are.
  • Show enthusiasm and give positive feedback. Don’t jump around and yell, but do respond with positive feedback if you like something, give clear reasoning behind your reasons for liking what is happening, and so on. Be unafraid to smile and give encouragement to the designer, and ensure that at the end of the session, even if it was a hard one, you thank them for providing the game for playtest. You’re helping them, but there’s no point in playtesters if there’s no game. It’s a symbiotic relationship, for good and ill!
  • Be honest, but kind and respectful. If you think a game sucks, don’t lie and pretend it was great, but don’t be a moldy muffin about it. Use “I” statements if you want to give negative feedback, and feel free to pair them with questions (“I had trouble understanding why we would use a d6 instead of 2d6 for a game Powered by the Apocalypse, could you talk about that a little?” “I felt like I didn’t have a lot of agency in the game because of the strict character roles. Is this a permanent feature of the game, and if so, why?”). You can always tell a designer what you don’t like – after all, playtesting is about making the game better, not pretending it’s perfect. Just be kind.
  • If something goes sideways with the other players, let the designer know either privately or, depending on immediacy, at the table. If something goes badly with the designer or with other players, let con staff wherever you are know as soon as you can. My major highlights here would be bigoted or hateful behavior, harassment, inappropriate content (18+ with under 18 individuals in the playtest, etc.), and so on. If something is truly upsetting, definitely feel free to leave, but make sure you communicate the issues to people who can make efforts to prevent it happening to other people. We can only make improvements if we know about the problems!

In all, there are a lot of things that playtesters can do to improve a convention playtest and help to get strong results. Sometimes it’s hard because the games can be early in development, or possibly have flawed premises. That sucks, for sure, but we can all work together to make games better, and make our environments better for creating better games and playing better games. If you want to be a part of that, take a chance sometime to participate in a playtest and see if it’s for you. I hope that someday we’ll share a table!


This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs. Tell your friends!

To leave some cash in the tip jar, go to http://paypal.me/thoughty.

If you’d like to be interviewed for Thoughty, or have a project featured, email contactbriecs@gmail.com.

What Makes a Good Player? with Johannes Oppermann

In today’s What Makes a Good Player? feature we have an interview with Johannes Oppermann! Check it out below.

What do you try to do most often while playing games to enhance your experience and the experience of others?

As a player I listen for opportunities, for creative gifts that other players offer me, and then pounce and expand on them. I play generously and offer back gifts about my character that they can then expand on. I love to improvise and make up setting details on the spot, even when I’m not the GM. Also, I try to help out other players when they’re at a loss for next steps or when they’re confused about rules or expectations. 
Do you use any specific play techniques (narrative tools, improv tools, etc.) in your play sessions?
This is for sit-down, tabletop games, where I can take notes during the game. I play differently in LARPs, which I’ve just recently discovered.

Some techniques I’ve learned from story games I try to use in every game I play. They work both in traditional roleplaying with a GM (like in PbtA games or Fate), or in story games, where narrative control is more evenly distributed. Techniques I use regularly are: Asking loaded questions (stolen from PbtA games), cutting and framing scenes (from Fate and Microscope), and transparent minds / inner monologue (also from Microscope, and from With great Power).

Also, I use introductory scenes and epilogues per character as framing for a game session, to give every session a feeling of closure. During the game session I try and use re-incorporation heavily to help me conclude a story arc by the end of the night. I use index cards (like Fate aspects) to note down important story elements. I pace myself to not add any new elements after half the session has passed and conclude at least half of the story elements that were introduced on the table by the session’s end. 

How often do you like to game, and what is most comfortable for you to maintain good energy in games?
I like to game at least once a week, and twice a week when I’m not too busy at work. I game online on the Gauntlet where there’s all the cool indie stuff you could want, but sadly mostly on US evenings, which is in the middle of the night for me. I have founded a regular story games meetup in Vienna with my friend Daniel which has suffered badly from his moving to another part of the country and my discovering LARPs, so I need to split my time.

I maintain good energy in a game when I feel involved in the action and when I feel excitement from the group. This happens when the spotlight is shared well and when there is mutual giving and taking of cues and actions. Enthusiasm and improvisation beats preparation any day at my table. Also, I feel very strongly about creating a safe and inclusive space at my tables. I founded the meetup group to meet other gamers and to bring new people into the hobby, specifically women who I feel are under-represented. I feel most alive when there’s enthusiasm at the table when we conclude a session and when people love the experience and commit to come back for more. 

What kind of games do you feel you are most comfortable with and enjoy the most?
Two types:

a) story games of all kinds that distribute narrative control in interesting ways and that have an element of story built into the rules. I gravitate towards GM-less games but I’ll try anything once. I also lean towards one-shots as opposed to campaign games, just because of the scheduling hell that seems to come with every single group that needs commitment to a campaign game.

b) parlor LARPs and Nordic scenarios with a small group of players, 2-5 hours of game time and a strong theme, premise and elegant mechanics.

I enjoy myself the most when a concluding story is told and we get to see conflict, character change and emotional impact. 
Can you share a special experience in a game where you felt like you did a good job playing your part in the overall story and game?
There is this one game I still remember fondly. It was a campaign for two players and the GM, played with my best friends, over a few years of real life time and many years of game time, on a game world of our own creation. I was playing a high elf psychic vampire mage and my friend a merchant prince vampire. Our characters valued each other’s personalities and accomplishments, but despised each other’s affiliation. We had to cooperate to keep lethal threats from ourselves and the city, but also had scenes of deep alienation. There was enough time to deeply develop both characters.

The moment I’m talking about was the campaign’s very climax and conclusion, when it became clear that my friend’s character was hell-bent on bringing my character’s mortal enemy and thief of his soul, a dark god of shadow and revenge, back into his world, by donning a possessed armor and offering up his body. Just before that happened, my character decided to summon lightning from the sky and destroy his enemy and friend together.

I’m telling this because for me it felt like the completely right decision. It did have an impact for our friendship, though. We were both very invested in our characters, but I felt that the story was told to its end. My friend, on the other hand, resented me for “backstabbing”, and in the epipogue his character’s ghost took it out on my character’s eldest son, kidnapping him and turning him into a vampire. I was totally okay with that – revenge was a strong theme in this story for me.

What I’m saying is that this incident taught me about characters. Characters are only real within a story. Outside of that story, they’re just empty husks. My friend wanted to keep their character’s husk for later reuse (he never did reuse it, and never does with other characters). I wanted to play mine to the hilt and have them succeed or die trying. And I loved every minute of it.

Thank you so much to Johannes for participating in the feature! I hope you all enjoyed reading!


This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.

What Makes a Good Player? with Ariana Ramos

Hello all!

In this new feature, What Makes a Good Player?, I’ll be covering the experience and practices of good players nominated by their fellows and GMs. All of the players were asked the same questions, but it’s interesting to see where those vary. 

The first interviewee is Ariana Ramos!


What do you try to do most often while playing games to enhance your experience and the experience of others?

This varies from game to game and also the frequency of how much I’ve played it. If it’s a brand new game, I will go with a class/skin I am excited for after maybe figuring out the setting the GM is aiming for and trying to get a feel for the players. A lot of times when new players come into play I will play more of the aggressive player or the one who tries to push others by taking the lead or prodding them into action, and this is more or less to let them know it’s okay to jump up with ideas. Other times I tend to like playing the outsiders, the characters that for some reason don’t belong but at the end don’t seem to care and continue with the challenge despite all odds stacked up against them. I also like making sure that the relationships/bonds characters have with do mean something beyond what is written and explore them as much as possible.

Do you use any specific play techniques (narrative tools, improv tools, etc.) in your play sessions?
A lot of improv, I try to use ‘yes and’ as much as possible in the game to give a good flow between players. My significant other and I listen to a lot of improv comedy, so that’s been a huge inspiration in where it’s okay to let games become silly or strange. I also do listen to music and secretly have themes for characters or try to shape their backgrounds in my head. Say the GM will make an item of great importance to my character I will ask myself why beyond just it being a thing of power, what sentimental value does it hold? All characters should have a drive, a reason to be there no matter how silly or small it may seem to someone who isn’t them it’s something that motivates them to continue.

How often do you like to game, and what is most comfortable for you to maintain good energy in games?
It depends on what’s going on in my real life. I’ve got two to three games per weekend or spread out during the month. I’ve had one game every other week or now I have a game every weekend, it’s knowing I am gaming with good people, and I can ultimately be myself. I only did Con gaming last year, and so far I was relatively lucky that I didn’t feel uncomfortable during my two visits to Origins. I have had uncomfortable situations over hangouts with people arguing over rules, forcing relationships or just being rude in general. You have to know when to cut your loses because gaming is supposed to be fun although it can be used as a learning and therapy tool. I never force myself to game with people I feel uncomfortable with, and I’ve learned to listen to myself in case feelings do come up and approach it calmly as possible. I also make sure that if by chance we’re touching hard themes that do come up that the other players are fine because although the X-card does exist when you have a personal relationship with someone, the automatic response is to laugh off any awkwardness that could harbor into bigger feelings. Just make sure people are okay, give it time and be open to conversations.

Also play games you’re excited for. Try new things!

What kind of games do you feel you are most comfortable with and enjoy the most?
I feel like every game is a good game with a good GM and good people. I don’t enjoy games that are solid combat, but I also am not a fan of games that are pure emotion. I do play a lot of Apocalypse World hacks because it’s the quickest system I can get into but there have been games I thought ‘no, thank you’ but have surprised me because the GM had an amazing way of sucking me in. I love world building with the players at hand; I love the feel of something being ours and it’s something we’re all exploring together.

Can you share a special experience in a game where you felt like you did a good job playing your part in the overall story and game?
There are so many. From my Flame Princess mourning the loss of her Dead Knight and in that pure platonic love and not romantic. I think my favorite was we were playing FATE in a joky horror setting with kids going to camp. This was my second time playing ‘Heather Sweets aka Sweets’ who is still one of my favorite characters and the GM had said someone had intercepted her care packages from her parents, and so she was out of candy. In a complete meltdown, I had my character laying on the floor claiming her parents didn’t love her anymore as I was trying not to laugh it made me sound like I was sobbing as I was asking for just one piece of candy. In the game, the monster is Big Foot, after having stolen some candy and shared it with a camper my character needs sugar to run fast to get away and so I reach for my friend’s hand and LICK IT to get some sugar off of it.




Thanks so much to Ariana for agreeing to the interview and for sharing her experiences! I hope all of my readers find the interview enjoyable and useful, and hope you like those that come along soon!


This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.

What Makes a Good Player?

As most people know, I am rarely a game master in tabletop games. More often than not, I play games exclusively as a player, and sometimes I even just spectate! To me, players are just as essential to the games as the designers and the GMs, for a number of reasons. Here’s a bit about that!

This post marks the start of a new series on Thoughty called What Makes a Good Player? where I’m interviewing gamers nominated by GMs and fellow players for being known as good players who help make games more enjoyable for everyone at the table. This series will run through December, with weekly posts on Wednesdays, 10AM Eastern. This series is also funded in part by my patrons at Patreon.com/briecs, where your support is very welcome and appreciated!

I really loved reading the interview responses from players about their style and preferences, and what’s important to them as a player. I hope through the interviews, you’ll learn more about what some people enjoy as players, how players can behave to enhance gameplay, and a few new things about the people you might know, or might get to know!

For me, tabletop games without players are not really a thing! You can have GM lonely fun creating worlds that aren’t played in, but the moment a GM starts participating in the mechanical reactions to the world, they become a player, too. Designers are often inherently players, testing their own game against itself, and telling stories that the final players also have the chance to retell in their own ways.

While I’m sure there have been endless posts from sites around the world talking about player skill, I didn’t want to talk as much about skill in this series. I wanted to see how players interact, what they thin is important, and what they get out of playing, because I think that what we get out of games reflects back on what we put into them.

The questions I posed to the interviewees are:

What do you try to do most often while playing games to enhance your experience and the experience of others?

This question is to get an idea of what the players think they do that influence the game. It’s very interesting reading the responses when you start asking how players think they influence other players, because we have pretty subjective concepts of how we change the scene.

Do you use any specific play techniques (narrative tools, improv tools, etc.) in your play sessions?

I wanted to see how many players are using formal tools, if any of them have unique tools or habits, and if they can see the direct impact of those or not. You’ll see in the responses how many people referenced improv tools, which is something I may expand upon soon.

How often do you like to game, and what is most comfortable for you to maintain good energy in games?

Behind every good player is a good night’s sleep. Even the most amped up player can burn out if they’re playing more games than they can handle time- and energy-wise, and it can impact play. I wanted to see what kind of schedules most players find comfortable for having a good time playing without burnout.

What kind of games do you feel you are most comfortable with and enjoy the most?

If we’re talking about good players, we’d be missing important information if we didn’t ask what they play that they’re so good at, and see whether they think their enjoyment or their interaction with others is negatively impacted by specific games.

Can you share a special experience in a game where you felt like you did a good job playing your part in the overall story and game?

Finally, I wanted to give the players a chance to share their stories (a major part of the point of this blog) and to see what experiences modeled their subjective concepts of doing a good job, and I think it was a really fascinating read for every one of these interviews. The players really have a lot of thought put into their own play and enjoyment!
With all of this in mind, I hope that you’ll all enjoy this new series on Thoughty. Remember to check out the Patreon to support the series if you’re interested or drop a few bucks in the Paypal.me/thoughty tip jar if you like what you see. Let’s play!

This post is an unpaid post announcement in preparation for a series of blog posts supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs. Tell your friends!

If you’d like to be interviewed for Thoughty, or have a project featured, email contactbriecs@gmail.com.

Behrend Bernhard, Esq. Version 1 – A Performative Party Game

Hello All!

It’s your friendly neighborhood Brie with a new game! This is, as with my previous games, a text-only version 1, so if I need to make edits I will do so and update the original file with a new version.

It’s a performative party game* where you get together friends and play out a court scene where one player gets to play a larger performative role as the title character, Behrend Bernhard, Esquire, one plays a court reporter who handles record taking, tallying records, and so on, and the rest of the players are witnesses providing testimony. All of the players have a small chance to roleplay, while Behrend’s character is the most active and asks questions of the witnesses. However, at the end, there’s a chance that any of the players could have a final dramatic scene. Yes, there is a twist, but it’s clearly detailed, and it is at the forefront that everyone is making up their stories. 🙂

I’ve been exploring player involvement and how much players want or need to participate in games, and at what level they’re most comfortable, as well as how to integrate different levels of power or authority in a game. I’ve also been looking at how we can make lies and secrets public while still playing within the fiction we’ve concocted.

Here it is!




*Some might consider this a live action roleplay game, and in some ways it is, but I think it’s a step away from that, personally, and you can argue about it if you want.


This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.

Whose Stories We Tell

If you are making a thing about people who are not like you, you should talk to people who are like that.

I can’t count how many game ideas or fiction ideas I’ve dropped completely because I couldn’t do the research, didn’t have the time to interview, or couldn’t read accurate accounts. People’s stories matter so much. We should not fly off the cuff. We should not make assumptions based on media.

If you’re working on something about people other than you that those people could be emotionally affected by,* pause and 

Consider whether you should do it at all. 

If you’re still determined to do it, look for the people you are writing about or people similar to them. Ask them if they will share their experience. If they will not,

Consider whether you should continue.

If you’re still determined to do it, look for accurate and complete personal accounts. If you can’t find them, or they seem unreliable, or they are confirmed to be inaccurate,

Consider whether you should keep going.

If you’re still determined to do it, review the available media regarding those people or their experiences. If you can’t find them, or they seem unreliable, or they are confirmed to be inaccurate,

Stop.

That’s right. Stop. Take a break, return to it later. Think about why you want to tell these stories.

Ask yourself:

  • Are you willing to tell stories without people’s permission?
  • Are you willing to tell stories without accurate information?
  • Are you willing to tell stories that could be inaccurate or misleading?
  • Are you willing to tell stories that could damage reputations, risk people’s jobs, or their lives?
  • Are you willing to tell stories that ignore people’s identities, stereotype them, or marginalize them? 
  • Are you willing to lie?

If you answer yes to those questions, I say to you: Look at your life. Look at your choices.

Walk away.



*Sex, wars, religion, gender, queerness, identities, trauma, politics, etc. – all of these are important. Imagine if someone wrote a story about something you consider personal and emotional, like about your life personally, and told it wrong, and maybe even lied or misrepresented you in a way that stereotyped you or made you seem dangerous, evil, or just simply wrong. If it’s a topic like that? Think about it.


Note: When you consult people, compensate them fairly for their time and experience.


This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.

Jay Sylvano, Game Chef, and Making Simple Games

Y’all know I love me some simple games.

I make games that are hella simple a lot of the time – little written games, question games, lonely games, those kinds of things. So I love hearing about people making games that are simple, but do more. Ask bigger questions. Challenge assumptions. Push harder.

Jay Sylvano has done that.

I met Jay at a podcast recording for the IGDN (Indie Game Developer Network) in November 2015, for Metatopia 2015. She was a recipient of the Metatopia Designer Scholarship. Her work thus far has been really interesting, and I’m always excited to see more.

Her 2016 Game Chef submission is an examination of a dystopian authoritarian high school, where questions of mind control and propaganda. It’s a live-action game, which is really cool, and I think that it has a lot of possibilities for play that are thoroughly fascinating. 

I’ve put together some of Jay’s words on her project further on, but here’s some background from her:

I’m from South Africa and have been living in Portland, OR for the past 4 years. I’m a full time graphic designer by day and an analog game designer by night, with a specific focus on story games and freeform larps.

I’ve created a number of games now including Shame, a freeform game about “honor” violence and patriarchal killings, Into The Gale, a tabletop story game about differently abled animals coming together to solve mythical problems, and The Illustrious Magnolia Hotel & Spa, a roleplaying game about a group of highly incompetent hotel staff trying to keep their crumbling establishment afloat.

I’m also on the board of the Portland-based nonprofit Games to Gather that focuses on inclusivity and social consciousness through play. My pride and joy is my main monthly gaming event “Ready, Set, Game: Womyn’s Night” that is all about womyn coming together in a safe space to play games, talk about game design and offer support and advice about participating in the typically misogynistic universe that is analog gaming.
This year I also launched the analog game design challenge Vernal Star, which encourages new designers to make games about obscure topics and research the lived experiences of others. The results of this year’s challenge will be announced at the end of July.

Jay obviously has a really nice set of qualifications, and the depth of thought put into her Game Chef submission is pretty great. Game Chef, for a little more context, is a game competition with simple elements that has a very brief turnaround for submission. I’ve tried it, and I was awful at it, but there have been some amazing games submitted, and some have even progressed to full development. Totally worth trying if you’re into it!

When I first asked Jay about her submission, she said:

The ingredients for this year’s contest were Sun, Dance, Alarm and Sketch, and the overall theme was Technology, with particular interest in how technology can influence and be used in analog games.

I was so excited about this theme and immediately wanted to create a game that would combine the isolation we associate with using technology with the in-person interaction and teamwork usually seen in larps. I’ve also been itching to create a game in a dystopian setting.

My final submission is called Intellectual Property. A game that deals with an authoritarian panopticon in a near future dictatorship. It is a freeform game that can take up to fifty players and engages with the trend of dystopian coming of age narratives found in stories like The Hunger Games while using the omnipresent technology on our bodies (and in our smart phones) to create a space for engagement.

Essentially, players take on the roles of high school students going through their first day of government training to protect their minds from terrorist attacks, during recess. The game requires players to make no overt attempts at communication and relies on audio and recorded propaganda to keep players distracted, occupied and frustrated, while still trying to be teenagers and connect with each other. The game was designed to explore the subject of government propaganda and subliminal messages and the effects these have on the ideas, creativity, relationships and sense of safety of the young citizens of a county.

Sounds pretty cool, right? Jay’s integration of technology into analog design with the propaganda being played is something that really piqued my interest. I love technology, so much, and I love the idea of literally influencing thought while playing a game. That’s really freaking awesome, and I wanted to know more about Jay’s concepts and purposes for the game.

I was particularly intrigued with Game Chef’s theme this year because of conversations I’ve been having in my own game groups about incorporating technology into analog games as a way for further conveying a message or reaching a desired goal. There is so much room right now to expand what an analog game is and how it works, and with American freeform being such a new and largely unexplored form of interactive, in-person gaming, I think we’re barely scratching the surface of play as an engaging art form and I can’t wait to see where it will go from here.

The ingredients, sunlight, alarm, dance and sketch were also something that caught my eye and struck me as “happy” words. I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to the value in creating a sense of shared joy or euphoria in a group of players – especially considering the trend of freeform games that are considered to provide impactful play experiences being dark, brooding and designed with the intent of evoking sorrow. There’s a sort of in-joke in my Portland freeform community about “waiting to die” games and how every freeform we play is secretly just that. I hope to see more games exploring a spectrum of emotions and themes, and these ingredients looked like something I could utilize to make one that does.

The term “‘waiting to die’ games” is hilarious and terrible and I love it. What kind of experiences do you have designing a Game Chef game? Well…

I’m a notorious procrastinator with a full time job who’s also co-directing a positive action gaming non-profit with 9 monthly events, so as much as I wanted to enter this challenge I was 98% sure I’d fail. It came down to one sleepless night of writing it all, creating an hour long audio track, mapping out the layout and designing a decent cover. I managed to submit it a few hours before the deadline and I was pretty thrilled to have just managed that. It’s not quite the grand vision I had started off with, but Game Chef encourages participants to go back and polish their entries, and Intellectual Property is getting a lot of finishes touches right now. I’m actually hoping I’ll get to run the final product at Metatopia 2016 in November.

What’s the game really about, though? 

The game itself, when it’s really boiled down, is a weird attempt on my part to convey what it’s like to have your voice silenced and your thoughts and sense of identity policed, and then to have to move through the world and interact with others with a smile plastered across your face and no outward signs of rebellion – something women come to accept as the norm from a very young age. This game is an extreme and warped scenario of what patriarchy does to us and the ways we adapt and learn to rebel, often quietly. The constant assurances from the audio track that these measures are in place to protect you, that violating the rules will hurt not only you but those you attempt to enlist in your rebellion, that you aught to be policing others and punishing them for stepping out of line, all of this is a very focused, exaggerated example of what living within a patriarchy is like. Coupled with the highly sexist, exuberant radio commercials that bombard players at intervals, I hope the game will manage to convey this message subtly in the guise of control of the people by the state.

Most of my games are overtly feminist and tend to drive home a very specific point about oppression without metaphors or veiled mechanics. They’re very “on the nose” I guess you could say. While I want to use game design as a platform to raise awareness about things that matter to me, theses games look like serious business to the average consumer and can be pretty intimidating to jump into. I’m generally all about not pulling punches in that sense. This time, I wanted to make something that could convey this message more subtly. I wanted it to be fun and weird and open to interpretation in the hopes that people wouldn’t be terrified of playing it and hopefully didn’t have to fear for their emotional well-being. Men often have trouble in my games with feeling like they have a right to fully participate when themes are so overtly feminist and about the lived experiences of women. That or they avoid the game entirely thinking it’s not “for them”. Hopefully a scenario that’s more subtle and open to interpretation will dispel some of that hesitation and enable everyone to participate freely.

When Jay talked about what she wanted people to take out of the game, I was really happy with her answer:

I hope people will come away from playing Intellectual Property with a sense of camaraderie, since its core mechanic is forming emotional bonds with others in a world where you’re not supposed to. I also hope it will stir up thoughts about how our government and media shape the people we become and how we regard and treat others. If people can walk away from something fun and uplifting and still retain those ideas, I’ll have contributed in a tiny way to making the world a happier, more inclusive, respectful place.

This is excellent. The game itself is a simple concept: kids in high school in a dystopia, with propaganda playing. The questions? There are so many, so many good questions. And the intentions outlined by Jay, to form “emotional bonds… where you’re not supposed to,” and questioning the media and government? I love it. 

Thanks so much to Jay for the interview, and I really hope you all enjoyed reading!

This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.

Women with Initiative: J Li

Today’s Women with Initiative feature is with J Li! J is a designer primarily in larp, and her recent work has been really fascinating! Her work on emotional immersion in larp has been a significant focus, specifically looking at formats and design elements that capture the experience of Chinese action/fantasy films and anime where there is intense emotional, situation-reaction content. Many of her games are parlor style larps, and her current projects Mermaid and Keymaster use structure and design to encourage specific behavior and emotional involvement. She also has some really cool work on Pattern Language for Larp Design. I asked J a few questions and her responses are below!

What inspired you to start working on Larp Pattern Language and what uses do you think it will have?
This question is actually more like, what inspired me to stop not working on it? 🙂

I’ve always broken down my games in design patterns. For many years, when people would ask me for design advice, I would rattle off numbers and shapes– make sure this person has that many subplots, arrange your room this way, this thing won’t work unless you add more complexity to balance, etc. I think it just came from writing and running a ton of games (I got started making secrets & powers games at Stanford, and there were a lot of them), just common trends that came up. I could visualize it all in my head.

A few years ago, I realized that most people don’t necessarily visualize things the same way, and also that if I wrote about them it might be useful shortcuts for other people. I knew that Jason Morningstar had a similar design philosophy, so I approached him about giving a panel on it. Once we started planning, it became pretty clear that there’s actually a lot of content there.

Since then, we’ve gotten a lot of requests to expand it to tabletop– which actually makes a lot of sense, because it’s really just about human-to-human live interaction design. If you look at visual design, it’s a very advanced field with a lot of key patterns that people use all the time, like grid layout, color theory, typographic principles, etc. And of course architecture is where it started.

My dream is, as larp becomes rapidly more mainstream, for the patterns that we’re surfacing now to form the groundwork of fundamental design theory for live human narrative/creative/social interaction. Someday, live interaction design 101 can cover topics like group size and player energy management, that would be awesome.

Your collection of parlor larps is stunning! Where do you find ideas for larps and how have you developed the concepts?
Thank you! I’m actually not sure how to answer this question because ideas are not really the scarcity for me, but I’ll give the literal answer:

For me, the fire and fuel behind all larp comes from the human drive to feel significant. The desire to be valued, impactful, great in some sense– not necessarily larger than life, but deeper than life? I’m really sensitive to this feeling. So when I look around me, you can see it latent in the way people behave, the stories we tell, the things we do and don’t mention…

The desire to make high-stakes decisions or pass judgments. The desire to be beautiful or hideous. The desire to let go of responsiblity, to be destroyed, to be in the spotlight, to hide, to give up, to try something ludicrous… I pick one that seems to be scarce lately, and make a game about getting to experience that.

Keymaster is about raw desire to be important and dramatic. Mermaid is about making moments of harsh passion while not having many options. Argentin is about getting to interpret your own identity without having a future.

So more specifically:

1. I have this deep-experience component mentioned above
2. I combine it with a strict structural element to elicit it unnaturally strongly (like “you can’t move” or “you’re going to die”)
3. I add an atmosphere that I would love to write or play in, like the ruins of a historical desert empire (Fires of Emsi) or the nature/civilization tension between a raw ocean, the people who survive beside it, and decadent inlanders (Mermaid).

What are your favorite parts of developing larps and examining their elements?

I love the patterns, and I love the part that’s just directly creating beauty– making the atmosphere happen and wrapping it in a unique way around each character. Giving the character a “taste”. And also setting a balance between that and making the character inhabitable by player interpretation.

Thanks so much to J Li for the interview! I hope you all enjoyed reading this and like checking out J’s work. 

—————

J Li Contact:

G+
Medium
Work
Website, Caldera Games
Spiritual Games Project


This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.

How Interactive is Your Game?

As a roleplayer, I have played in a number of different situations. Most people have played home games – at your place, or the home of a friend, in a closed environment. Some people have played at local events, or even large cons like GenCon. With larping, people play in all types of environments – small house events, large outdoor weekend events, convention hall rooms, and so on. Our environments often shape our play – how loud we talk, whether we move around, and our props or costumes.

Today I’m thinking very deeply about interactivity. This is not just “does your game involve you and do you do a thing,” but instead “how much does the player emotionally and physically interact with a game?” I wasn’t able to find a lot about interactivity in relation to tabletop and live-action roleplaying games. If I’m missing something, obviously feel free to share them in comments, but please avoid diluting my points.

I’m proposing some concepts on how to evaluate interactivity in tabletop and larp, and these are key for accessibility and player choice

Ask these questions:

  • Will players sit at the table, stand, or move around, or a combination of those?
  • Will players speak in character, use distancing (third-person), or alternate as comfortable?
  • Will players “perform” their character – changing from sitting at the table to standing, entering into other players’ personal space, raising their voice, moving hands more than just standard “talky” movement?
  • Will players be required to do these things, encouraged to do them, or have the option to do them?
  • Is there an opt out option for any of these things, or is the only option not to play?(1) 
  • Will players be in separate spaces, or in one space?
  • Will players need to move from space to space?
  • Will players have assistance moving from space to space if needed?
  • Will players have character sheets, index cards, name tags, props, or other materials to represent characters, powers, abilities, or resources?
  • Will these materials be available in alternate formats, or is there a standard?
  • Is it possible for players to have access to materials in advance?

There are probably more questions to be asked! This is a really complex subject, and it’s come to me from a very specific place: my own fears. Most people who know me are aware that I operate with pretty clear awareness of my fears because without that I can’t make it past them. This comes through in games! I ask for use of X-cards or Script Change or pre-game discussion on boundaries because I can decide then what I’m really comfortable with, and with who. However, the one thing that none of these cover by default or even in some extrapolation is interactivity. 

We rarely discuss at the table “Hey, are we going to talk in-character for this session?” or “Can I stand up if my character wants me to?” or “Can I sit while others are standing in this session?” or “Can I just write these character stats on an index card for while we move around?” However, these questions are incredibly important! Not just from an accommodations point of view for mental or physical disabilities, but also from the perspective of safety and comfort. I’ll give a brief example.

I was playing a local home game with some people I was mostly familiar with. It was an emotional game, for sure, and the situations were pretty intense at times, but after a few sessions, we had still only used descriptions of raised voices or physical action, and that had been okay. However, the GM at this point brought forth a very (for me) scary and intense situation. In playing the NPC character, they stood up, walked over to me, and screamed at me. Repeatedly. As someone with some history involving abuse and raised voices, the combination of the yelling and interference with my personal space completely terrified me. At that point my mental options were to 1) react violently (which I didn’t), or 2) freeze up. I haven’t spoken to the person about it,(2) but that’s partially because I still feel anxious around them.

I can’t be the only person who has experienced this. If I had known that these kind of actions would have occurred in game, I might not have ever played. Did I have good times? Yes. Was it worth that panicked experience? No.

Upon hearing recently that some people at Games on Demand were playing with more intense interactivity (characters were arguing, so players raised their voices and were physically acting), it brought this idea to the forefront. I’m really frustrated that I haven’t seen a lot of discussion about this, actually, because yes, we’re all playing games and having fun. But, not everyone has fun in the same way, and not setting these expectations can ruin someone’s time.

This is normally when people come in with the “if they don’t like it, they don’t have to play!” or “we aren’t writing/running games for people who won’t do improv/aren’t willing to be physical/can’t handle intense situations!” and you know what? Fuck you. I’m actually really tired of it. Games are not just for one specific class and type of people. You can design games and run games in any way you want to, but if you aren’t willing to tell people up front what to expect, you are doing it wrong.

There is no reason I should be unable to play games because I am afraid someone will shout at me at the table. There is no reason I should be unable to play games because I can’t stand for four hours. I might not be able to play all games, but I should be able to play some games, and if someone tells me the situation and expectations, I can determine whether I can meet those expectations of that game. 

If you are designing games and/or running/facilitating games, please take these things into consideration. It may take time! It may even take effort! But if we want people to enjoy our games, why wouldn’t we take time and effort? People have spent decades designing entire adventures with the minutiae of what potions are available in a chest in the sixteenth room of a 25 room dungeon, so I think we could take a half hour to ask ourselves how interactive our games will be, regardless of their type, to ensure that everyone involved has a good time and can contribute to the game comfortably.

Thank you for reading!

(1) The second is not condemnation, it’s just important to note.
(2) If you see yourself here, this is not the time to talk about it. If I ever want to talk to you about it, I’ll come to you.


This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.