Contributor: Amanda
Submission: The 1st in a series of IG and OoG written commentary from a "novice LARPer"
LARP System: Accelerant
Location: Boston, USA
PC Name: Istamira "Mira" Nascirus
Years LARPing: 0 years, 7 months
Website: Istamira's Quill
How I Learned To Stop Worrying & Love The Boffer (OOG)
by Amanda / "Istamira"
In and out of character commentary from a novice larper. Character names, places, and sometimes even plot specifics may be changed or altered to protect readers from horrible knowledge that could threaten the very fiber of the universe! ... or something like that.
It's been only 7 months since I started up this hobby, and it's already grown to occupy a great portion of my free time. It wasn't always so. I didn't even get started larping until I was 31. So naturally one might wonder, after all that time, what finally got me in? In summary, two words: peer pressure.
Ironically it’s normally peer pressure that can chase a person away from larping. Just by uttering the word, I received strong responses (and very often not positive). You’d think there would be a natural camaraderie among the roleplaying/number crunching/costume loving peoples of the world. To get funny looks from non-gamers was expected, but I was fairly surprised at how vehemently hostile my fellow gamers could be towards larpers. On more than one occasion I’ve been given an intricate breakdown of the geek food chain, always depicting larpers at the bottom one category above fetish furries. Repeatedly I’d hear the “why D&Ders and Larpers are natural enemies” rhetoric. Even among the few people I knew who participated, I was always given the “don’t tell anyone else that I do this” lecture.
I’ve never put much weight in that kind of social ridicule, which allowed me to glaze past the negativity and seeming shame that hung round the word ‘larp’ like an unwelcome fog. By that standard I probably shouldn’t have done theater, or D&D, or MMOs, or game conventions, or fiddling either – those are all things I love dearly regardless of what others said about them. So how bad could larping be honestly?
If anything, it was almost inevitable that I was going to get pulled into larping because I was already intrigued – you could say I was “larpcurious” ultimately. I had rolled the idea around in my head but without a lot of drive. Friends are a good driving force, but it took an attack from two completely opposite directions to finally push me over the edge and give it a shot.
I was standing around quietly absorbing a discussion about how excited they all were for an upcoming “event.” Out of left field (or maybe sensing that I hadn’t run screaming for the hills when all the larp chatter started) my GM friend says “the question isn’t how excited you are for MJ, the question is when is Amanda going to start playing with us?” and shoots a sly look over at me. Instantly more eyes fell on me, lighting up with the same look as a kid who’s heard the ice cream truck jingle. I felt kind of bad because it blind sided me, so my first reaction was to shrink down and recoil from the attention stammering wordlessly, which may have accidentally come off as a “don’t make me” posture. They didn’t press too hard on the topic, and while I was amicable towards the idea, nothing further came of it.
Over time, in my quest to branch out friendships, I realized my list of friends was rapidly shifting to include a lot of larpers. I started getting invitations to “come try” a few different games, always met with a polite nod and a “we’ll see” on my part.
When you show the slightest direct interest in playing, it’s like a feeding frenzy of advice. You’ll get more information in 20 minutes than you could remember in a lifetime, and about thirty different variations of “all you need to do is ____”. I think the enthusiasm is what sells it though. When you hear well adjusted, friendly people describing how much they love something, it makes you think “well there must be something to it, or they wouldn’t be so jazzed”. Armed with information and links, I sent my findings back to my friend.
She backed out after I explained it. “Oh? I thought it was more like a one-night mystery dinner show or something.” I can’t say I was too surprised considering she hadn’t even rolled a d20 before, but rather than being discouraged, I found myself digging deeper for information. Could I do this? I could totally do this. After all, I had pledged that this year would be my “year of trying new things.” This was a new thing, right? I could do this.
I’d seen it in action a few times at social functions. I’d obviously seen the infamous “lightening bolt” video. I'd heard my friends describe it, and had a few other visual references. It just looked so odd and awkward to me… in my line of work people often speak of the “nerf bat” metaphorically, but for me boffing was like the very incarnation of someone flailing a nerf bat. Watching two people going at each other in a duel made me feel embarrassed for them, like an episode of Peep Show where it’s so terribly awkward but you just can’t look away, so you keep cringing harder hoping for their sake that it ends so they can salvage whatever dignity is left.
It’s amazing how a little education goes a long way to beat a stigma. I stumbled on some very nice "tutorial" videos by keyword searching specifically for combat advice, rather than just "larping" or "boffing" alone (which generally pulled up out-of-context footage from people's games). In these videos, boffing was laid out with the same kind of tact as someone explaining martial arts. One of my all time favorites was WillGray42, whose teaching style focused on treating boffing as a fun hobby to share with friends, good way to be active, and something not take too seriously.
"It's sword 'play' not sword 'fighting' we're not out here to hurt each other." - WillGray42, Lesson 5 Rules & Code
Submission: The 1st in a series of IG and OoG written commentary from a "novice LARPer"
LARP System: Accelerant
Location: Boston, USA
PC Name: Istamira "Mira" Nascirus
Years LARPing: 0 years, 7 months
Website: Istamira's Quill
How I Learned To Stop Worrying & Love The Boffer (OOG)
by Amanda / "Istamira"
In and out of character commentary from a novice larper. Character names, places, and sometimes even plot specifics may be changed or altered to protect readers from horrible knowledge that could threaten the very fiber of the universe! ... or something like that.
It's been only 7 months since I started up this hobby, and it's already grown to occupy a great portion of my free time. It wasn't always so. I didn't even get started larping until I was 31. So naturally one might wonder, after all that time, what finally got me in? In summary, two words: peer pressure.
Ironically it’s normally peer pressure that can chase a person away from larping. Just by uttering the word, I received strong responses (and very often not positive). You’d think there would be a natural camaraderie among the roleplaying/number crunching/costume loving peoples of the world. To get funny looks from non-gamers was expected, but I was fairly surprised at how vehemently hostile my fellow gamers could be towards larpers. On more than one occasion I’ve been given an intricate breakdown of the geek food chain, always depicting larpers at the bottom one category above fetish furries. Repeatedly I’d hear the “why D&Ders and Larpers are natural enemies” rhetoric. Even among the few people I knew who participated, I was always given the “don’t tell anyone else that I do this” lecture.
I’ve never put much weight in that kind of social ridicule, which allowed me to glaze past the negativity and seeming shame that hung round the word ‘larp’ like an unwelcome fog. By that standard I probably shouldn’t have done theater, or D&D, or MMOs, or game conventions, or fiddling either – those are all things I love dearly regardless of what others said about them. So how bad could larping be honestly?
If anything, it was almost inevitable that I was going to get pulled into larping because I was already intrigued – you could say I was “larpcurious” ultimately. I had rolled the idea around in my head but without a lot of drive. Friends are a good driving force, but it took an attack from two completely opposite directions to finally push me over the edge and give it a shot.
Attack 1: Agony By Ambush
I started trying to expand my social circle and joined a few new D&D games. Sitting around the table telling stories, eating, laughing… it’s a great way to make new friends. I joined a game where the only person I knew was the GM, figuring it would be good to meet new people. I realized quickly that I was outnumbered. Every person at the table larped – apparently in the same games no less – except me. They were all very awesome people and it was great getting to know them, but I started to get that familiar third-wheel sensation … you know, the one where people are talking about a game system that you vaguely understand so you sit there quietly and politely listening while it zooms over your head? I felt that same feeling the first time I started hanging out with friends who played Magic, or who played D&D, or who played EverQuest. At some point they can’t help but go on about their hobby and you’re left in the dust… until they try to suck you in.
I was standing around quietly absorbing a discussion about how excited they all were for an upcoming “event.” Out of left field (or maybe sensing that I hadn’t run screaming for the hills when all the larp chatter started) my GM friend says “the question isn’t how excited you are for MJ, the question is when is Amanda going to start playing with us?” and shoots a sly look over at me. Instantly more eyes fell on me, lighting up with the same look as a kid who’s heard the ice cream truck jingle. I felt kind of bad because it blind sided me, so my first reaction was to shrink down and recoil from the attention stammering wordlessly, which may have accidentally come off as a “don’t make me” posture. They didn’t press too hard on the topic, and while I was amicable towards the idea, nothing further came of it.
Over time, in my quest to branch out friendships, I realized my list of friends was rapidly shifting to include a lot of larpers. I started getting invitations to “come try” a few different games, always met with a polite nod and a “we’ll see” on my part.
Attack 2: Disarm
Of all my friends, it was a non-larper that delivered the last shove I needed. It was a discussion with some of my non-gamer girl pals (spouses of gaming friends mostly). To my vast surprise, one of them mentioned that she wanted to try larping some time. This I had to see. To her “gaming” was playing Settlers of Catan, and she had no interest in our D&D games. I just couldn’t fathom her playing in a larp. I explained what little I knew, and that I knew people who could hook us up if she was serious. So the next day, I picked the brains of the most larpiest larpers I knew to report back to her.
When you show the slightest direct interest in playing, it’s like a feeding frenzy of advice. You’ll get more information in 20 minutes than you could remember in a lifetime, and about thirty different variations of “all you need to do is ____”. I think the enthusiasm is what sells it though. When you hear well adjusted, friendly people describing how much they love something, it makes you think “well there must be something to it, or they wouldn’t be so jazzed”. Armed with information and links, I sent my findings back to my friend.
She backed out after I explained it. “Oh? I thought it was more like a one-night mystery dinner show or something.” I can’t say I was too surprised considering she hadn’t even rolled a d20 before, but rather than being discouraged, I found myself digging deeper for information. Could I do this? I could totally do this. After all, I had pledged that this year would be my “year of trying new things.” This was a new thing, right? I could do this.
Maybe.
Finish Her
The rest of the night was spent digging up videos and links to various larp resources trying to understand just how it worked. The rules had a lot that I agreed with roleplaying wise - I'd always been more story focused in my RP circles anyway. I wasn't crowd skittish (public speaking and performance knock the shy right off you). That and I'm no stranger to making a fool of myself in public for the amusement of others. The costuming seemed fun, and was already something I dabbled in for parties and tradeshows. There was only one obstacle left to tackle before I could agree to go through with it: boffing.The very concept made my skin crawl in the worst way…
I’d seen it in action a few times at social functions. I’d obviously seen the infamous “lightening bolt” video. I'd heard my friends describe it, and had a few other visual references. It just looked so odd and awkward to me… in my line of work people often speak of the “nerf bat” metaphorically, but for me boffing was like the very incarnation of someone flailing a nerf bat. Watching two people going at each other in a duel made me feel embarrassed for them, like an episode of Peep Show where it’s so terribly awkward but you just can’t look away, so you keep cringing harder hoping for their sake that it ends so they can salvage whatever dignity is left.
It’s amazing how a little education goes a long way to beat a stigma. I stumbled on some very nice "tutorial" videos by keyword searching specifically for combat advice, rather than just "larping" or "boffing" alone (which generally pulled up out-of-context footage from people's games). In these videos, boffing was laid out with the same kind of tact as someone explaining martial arts. One of my all time favorites was WillGray42, whose teaching style focused on treating boffing as a fun hobby to share with friends, good way to be active, and something not take too seriously.
"It's sword 'play' not sword 'fighting' we're not out here to hurt each other." - WillGray42, Lesson 5 Rules & Code
Suddenly it made waaaay more sense, and all the perceived awkwardness washed away. I realized that combat wasn’t just people randomly flailing at each other pretending to take hits….
- It was like fencing, with forms and offensive/defensive strategies that yielded specific results.
- It was like tag football, where your objective is just to “tag” the other person in certain legal areas.
- It was like a friendly sport, where accepted rules of play and equipment were somewhat standardized for the fun and safety of everyone.
- Most importantly: It was like something I could see myself getting into.
Friends or no friends, ridicule or no ridicule, experience or inexperience… I was going to try this. Thus a question that had been asked long ago was answered. When was Amanda going to start playing? Now.
***
This is the first in a series. Please share, and leave feedback in the comments.
To get you started... how did you get into LARPing? Do you experience any OoG stigma? Whether or not you've played, has this made you think about LARP differently? If you have LARPed before, what experiences surprised you?
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
It's funny-- I got into LARP in almost exactly the same way. A well-adjusted, successful friend gushed about it. I had the hesitant, "I'm really not *that* geeky" response, and the friend assured me it wasn't "*that* geeky." In fact, he said, it was fun, social, and active. And, hey! It is! After my first LARP, I was totally hooked.
ReplyDeleteI still haven't found out why LARP hovers around the bottom of the "gaming food chain." I think, perhaps, because it is outside of so many people's comfort zones. It's creative. It's expressive. It's improvisational. It (LARP) demands a lot of things, including flexibility, athleticism, and willingness to pretend. I think a lot of people aren't comfortable engaging in these sorts of creative exercises-- LARP, a challenge, therefore becomes stigmatized.
I think it's also that it's so obvious/immersive that scares people off, too. It's possible to go, "I'm not that geeky" while playing a table top. You're just hanging out at a friend's house, right? It's hard to make the claim 'I'm not that geeky' when you're dressed like a barbarian swinging a foam weapon at some dude dressed like an elf who's throwing birdseed packets at you.
ReplyDeleteIt's also more intimidating, I think, *because* it's so immersive. If things get intense/go unexpectedly in a tabletop or video game, you always have the opportunity to just step out of it for a few seconds and disconnect. Not so much an option at larps.