Happy New Year!

Well, I'm actually a bit late with this, but Happy New Year nonetheless. I wanted to do a post specifically about the next year of larping: last year was a busy year that was punctuated by the endings and openings of various games. Now, in 2014, things have started to settle into place. So, what are you most excited about in the coming year? What sort of games do you want to try, and what games are you enthusiastic to continue? Are you instituting any major changes in your play? My answers, to get the ball rolling, follow:

• I have a few plots that are very near and dear to my creative core. Some of their big narrative arcs are going to get going this year, and I'm excited to see in what directions players take my plot children.
• A team of close friends and I started playing Ascendant-- not only do I love the world, but the community is really different from my (much beloved) New England one. The change of pace, and the new (to me) faces, are refreshing and add a new dynamic to my gameplay. (Also, I have discovered that eight hour road trips, with the right company, are not only bearable, but fun.)
• I've been getting into a lot more creative writing lately-- though I mostly write for myself, game-based writing has been a welcome re-entry into storytelling.
• I have some super secrets in the works, but, for now, they are super secrets. Nevertheless, I'll vaguely hint at them here.

Once Upon A Text Prop

by Zoe

Hello everyone! Due to a double load of teaching and classes, plus a full larp schedule, I have been sadly bereft of freetime. As I happily move into my winter break, however, I find myself once more with time for larp blogging. As I was prepping for a larp this morning, a questions came to mind...

Anyone who knows me, as a staffer or players, knows that I love text props. Too much. My strength, in larps, tends to rest in writing, and text props are one of my preferred modes of communication. I enjoy them because they allow me to express things, about a character, in a way that can't happen face-to-face; they also allow me to preemptively "characterize" NPCs before they hit game. Honestly, I could go on and on about how much I love text props. For instance, take the following examples as reasons why I love textprops:

Communicating the Surreal

In larp, it can be hard to communicate the surreal: while costuming and acting, as well as set-dressing and narrative, can go a long way, larps don't have the expressive freedom of text. In my opinion, text props allow for staffers to communicate dreamy, unreal landscapes to their PCs in a way that conditions the PCs towards understanding a specific plotline as surreal. One of my favorite examples of this was Albert's work in Endgame: he and I worked on a range of textprops connected to the mourner plotline. They created the expectation of a very alien landscape-- when players were finally introduced to the characters and settings from this landscape, they already had the expectation of the surreal.

Yes, really. This NPC is mean.

I don't have a hard time producing bitchy NPCs... at all, really. However, when I have them deliver letters to PCs, prior to their onstage entrance, that writhe with acidity, frigidity, and/or flat-out nastiness, it sets a good precedent for when I roll in, and meet them face-to-face: when I've already insulted their morale foundations and/or competence, I find PCs more than willing to enter into thorny relationships.

Unwritten/Unspoken Tensions

As both an NPC and a PC, I play a lot of introverted, frustrated characters. (This should be telling.) One of my favorite interactions in larp is the tension of "things left unsaid": that moment when you both know what you want to say, but, due to character reasons, refuse to say it. Letters, especially, allow me to further those moments. In general, I think there's a human expectation that letters are more revealing than spoken word-- I enjoy the art of making my textual communication with other players equally, if not more, frustratingly vague, but simultaneously painfully honest. I appreciate the knowledge that, post a text-prop from me, other players have more questions than answers-- to me, that's the real strength of a well-used text prop.

Hey, PC. I love you.

One of the biggest problems of larp is the issue of "so many things to do, so little time." Especially as a staffer, I often find myself out as a role that can only interact with individual PCs for so long. Text props-- letters, diaries etc.-- allow me to give PCs a little bit more interaction with an NPC. While this doesn't replace face-to-face, IG time, it provides PCs with some personal attention, and often allows them to use letters/journals to engage other PCs in their plot (in a material way).

Soo... with my unabashed love for text props revealed, I have a question...

What is your favorite text prop (or text props, should you be so lucky) that you have received? Why was it your favorite, and what sort of interactions/player developments did it encourage? Grazi!

Getting to Know You

Last weekend, I had the good fortune to be at a really interesting Mirror, Mirror event. The game was, as per usual, fun and more than a little exhausting. However, the really interesting part was the huge influx of PCs. Honestly, I have never seen so many PCs enter a game at one time.* This meant that there were many, many introductions. Introductions at MM are kind of fascinating for a few reasons. We're working with some pretty unique "getting to know you factors":

1) This game is high fantasy with a little extra high fantasy, just for kicks. People come in as really bizarre and unexpected things.

2) Because of IG and OoG rules, players can't necessarily say exactly what they are. So if someone says, "This, uh, might be rude, but... what exactly are you?" A typical answer might be, "Gee, well. I wish I could say, but, in this land, I just can't seem to say." The conversation then turns into an elaborate description that talks around the missing word.

3) Because most PCs come from disparate places, most PCs don't have experience with the majority of IG species and/or have different experiences of IG species. A related conversation: Person 1: I'm an elf.; Person 2: You, sir, are not an elf.

While MM has a reputation as a combat-heavy game (and it is very combat heavy), it's also some kind of expansive, elaborate brain puzzle that never ends. And that's what makes it so great, in my opinion.

However, as I mentioned earlier, this whole situation-- coupled with a huge influx of new PCs-- makes for some fairly interesting introductions. On that note...

Pick a character, any character. Well, pick a character (PC or NPC) with an interesting introduction. How does that individual introduce itself to new people? What have been some particularly good interactions?



* The frat house at Endgame being a somewhat close second.

Absence from those we love: Saying Goodbye

In more than a few of the LARPs I staff/play, there have been some very poignant player exits. These have involved a variety of circumstances, including player deaths and players electing to go "off-screen" in dramatic and meaningful ways. Exiting, as a player, is a topic unto itself-- how do you do it? Why do you do it? When do you do it? These are excellent questions (and, if the fodder feeds you, discuss), however, I'm more interested in the people left behind.

I recently wrote on the end of plot arcs. This generated some excellent comments-- many of the notes included that narrative resolutions can leave players disconnected and/or sad. Accordingly, it falls on staff (and the players themselves) to provide ways for those players to get re-involved. The exit of PC characters poses a similar, though more complicated, problem. Since my last quest on this topic was directed at staffers, this is directed at PCs.

Imagine, for a moment, you are in the climatic moment of whatever battle in whatever realm you frequent. Suddenly, one of your friends-- perhaps your closest friend and confidant-- does something heroic, unforeseen, and, ultimately, final: the player impacts the game in such a way that takes them permanently off-screen. Your friend, as a PC, has made their exit.

Take another situation-- a teammate, in a difficult and hard-won battle, is struck down, and, unexpectedly, fails to resurrect. The teammate's IG death is final, and they will no longer appear, fighting alongside you.

Or a slightly more complicated situation: your favorite teammate has OoG reasons that prevent them from playing. They have a new baby, a new job, or need to leave the country. Logistically, they have decided to quit the game, and the character is making an off-screen exit. In any case, neither you nor your character will see them IG.

Farewells, in whatever form they take, are inevitable and sometimes necessary. IG, player-exits can motivate narrative and heighten drama. OoG exits are necessary and productive for a variety of reasons. However, those absent certainly leave a hole: both IG and OoG, people feels the absence of friends and comrades. As a player, how do you deal with farewells from players to whom you are emotionally attached? How do you RP the drama of loss without making the game upsetting? How do you create new relationships that are equally meaningful? How do you commemorate players who have left the stage?

As always, your comments are appreciated.

p.s. Mirror, Mirror players-- I see a lot of enthusiasm floating around the netscape. If anyone is interested in doing some collaborative MM stuff, shoot me an email at collabnarration@gmail.com. If there are enough people interested, mayhaps we can do something fun before the first event.