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  • Love, Sex, Death, and Liminality: Ritual in Just a Little Lovin’

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    Love, Sex, Death, and Liminality: Ritual in Just a Little Lovin’

    By

    Sarah Lynne Bowman

    The theme of alternate sexuality, identity, and freedom juxtaposed with the tragedy of death permeates Just a Little Lovin'. Photo by Elina Andersson. CC-BY-NC. The theme of alternate sexuality, identity, and freedom juxtaposed with the tragedy of death permeates Just a Little Lovin’. Photo by Elina Andersson. CC-BY-NC.

    Just a Little Lovin’ is commonly touted as one of the best Nordic larps ever designed by those who have played it. Originally written in 2011 by Tor Kjetil Edland and Hanne Grasmo, the larp explores the lives of people in alternative sexual and spiritual subcultures during the span of 1982-1984 in New York who attend the same 4th of July party each year. As the larp progresses, the AIDS crisis increasingly sweeps through their community, affecting each member directly or indirectly. The result is a cathartic explosion of emotions that leave a lasting impact on the majority of the players.

    This article will discuss some of these rhetorical threads surrounding the design of Just a Little Lovin’. Then, I will emphasize the importance of the ritual spaces and structures within the larp, which work to enhance communal connection in- and out-of-game and help produce these strong moments of catharsis.

    Player Discourse Surrounding Just a Little Lovin’

    Oh no, not I! I will survive!
    Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive!
    I’ve got all my life to live.
    I’ve got all my love to give.
    And I’ll survive! I will survive!

    Gloria Gaynor, I Will Survive
    Most characters came together each year in a ritualized fashion for the drag/variety show. Here, they enjoy a performance by the rock band Urban Renaissance. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. Most characters came together each year in a ritualized fashion for the drag/variety show. Here, they enjoy a performance by the rock band Urban Renaissance. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

    In play reports, participants mention several powerful elements of the design. The characters have realistic motivations and relationship dynamics. The intersecting themes of desire, love, friendship, and fear of death interweave beautifully throughout the larp to provide a roller coaster of emotions for the players. The mechanics for sex and death are thoughtfully implemented, providing a meaningful, relatively safe framework in which to experience these powerful moments. The larp is organized into three Acts, with careful workshopping and debriefing exercises framing each phase. These breaks allow players opportunities to co-create the experience with one another through negotiation and agreement. While the larp does deal with the tragedy of disease impacting a tightly knit community of creative, experimental, open-minded people, the emphasis of the larp is not to dwell in tragedy, but rather to undergo a strengthening of that community through shared experience.

    A lesbian contingent with their dutch boy. Participants emphasize an intensified sense of community after the larp in their play accounts. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. A lesbian contingent with their dutch boy. Participants emphasize an intensified sense of community after the larp in their play accounts. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

    As UK larper Mo Holkar recently wrote regarding the fourth run of the larp in Denmark 2015:

    I have never had my mind opened more by a larp, nor felt more bonded to a group of co-players – including those who I didn’t actually interact with during play. And, importantly, this is not because we came through a terrible experience together: it wasn’t like that at all. It’s because we came through an amazing and uplifting and life-affirming and worldview-changing experience together.

    Mo Holkar, Just a Little Lovin’: Actually, More Than Just a Little,, Games! All Sorts of Different Ones, July 5, 2015

    Similar accounts exist in articles by other former players:

    I’ve got this sense that I’ve stolen a true glimpse of the past, or at least a past that could have been. We’ve created something real, and beautiful, and momentous. I don’t know how to handle that. It’s immense pride and I already feel nostalgic for it. In the most literal sense — I’m starting to feel the pangs of loss that are nostalgia. It’s exactly the right emotion I need to be feeling right now. Beauty, loss, sorrow, pride, admiration, longing, pining for something.

    Erik Winther Paisley, ‘We Still Have Time’: Experiencing the 1980’s AIDS Crisis Through Larp, Sobbing with Relief at a Funeral, Dancing, Dragging, and Kissing a Stranger Out of Love For the Story, Medium.com, June 28, 2015

    Just a Little Lovin’ was full of life and color. Death was real, but we needed to make the most of whatever time we had left, in order to be together. The very structure of the game was oriented towards living, and even suffering was just another way to interact with others, to deepen a character, and add even more meaning to his or her life. Death was not a beautiful release; it was just the end.

    Eden Gallanter, The Bridge Between Love and Death, Cheimonette, July 6, 2015
    Although death permeated the lives of the characters in the game, the party went on even through Act III as a celebration of existence and love. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. Although death permeated the lives of the characters in the game, the party went on even through Act III as a celebration of existence and love. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

    Picture, if you will, a group of people discussing the death of one of their characters, which is directly brought about by the nature and behaviour of another in the scene, talking about what kind of impressions they want to construct in this scene. Then they play the scene, to spec, with screaming, tears, loathing, self-hatred, disgust, horror, everything. Then one raises their head and calmly says ‘thank you,’ and, with tear tracks still drying and breath still shaking, they dissect the emotions that each other’s play brought about, praising the particular moves, words, and timing that brought the greatest effect in their character’s response to the other characters. I still can’t decide if its madness, emotional vampirism, or the most awesome thing I have ever participated in.

    Miki Habryn, Google+ post, June 15, 2012

    JaLL is without a doubt the most intense and [thoroughly] designed game I have ]ever played. I understand now why some call it the best larp in the world. There [are] other as well-designed games out there, but it’s the mix of brilliant design with a theme and especially the handling of the theme that creates just a more intense experience.

    Simon James Pettitt, Just a Little Lovin’: Intro Post, Pettitt.dk, July 7, 2015
    Documentation book for the 2013 Danish run filled with player and organizer accounts.
    Documentation book for the 2013 Danish run filled with player and organizer accounts.

    For more accounts, the impressive documentation book from the 2013 Danish run is available, which includes play reports from many of the participants, as well as organizer reflections.((Casper Gronemann and Claus Raasted, eds, The Book of Just a Little Lovin’ (2013 Denmark Run): Documenting a Larp Project about Desire, Friendship, and the Fear of Death (Copenhagen, Denmark: Rollespilsakademiet, 2013), http://www.rollespilsakademiet.dk/pdf/books/book_jall.pdf)) Several other articles from past participants are also available on various web sites.((For examples, see reflections by: Elin Dalstål, “Just a Little Lovin’ 2012,” Gaming as Women, June 16, 2012, http://www.gamingaswomen.com/posts/2012/06/just-a-little-lovin-2012/; Petter Karlsson, “Just a Little Lovin’ 2012 – A Larp About AIDS in the 80’s” PetterKarlsson.se, October 26, 2012, http://petterkarlsson.se/2012/10/26/just-a-little-lovin-2012-a-larp-about-aids-in-the-80s/; Eleanor Saitta, “It’s About Time,” in States of Play: Nordic Larp Around the World, edited by Juhana Pettersson (Helsinki, Finland: Pohjoismaisen roolipelaamisen seura, 2012), http://nordiclarp.org/w/images/a/a0/2012-States.of.play.pdf; Annika Waern, “Just a Little Lovin’, and Techniques for Telling Stories in Larp,” Persona, June 16, 2012, https://annikawaern.wordpress.com/2012/06/16/just-a-little-lovin-and-techniques-for-telling-stories-in-larp/, etc.))

    Ultimately, much of the discourse surrounding the larp focuses upon the intense connections the experience creates between participants, the enhanced understanding of the struggles of countercultural movements during the period, and increased awareness about the AIDS crisis. From a design perspective, Just a Little Lovin’ is also touted as successful due to its inclusion of metatechniques from the freeform and blackbox scenes and its careful framing with regard to workshops, negotiation, de-roleing, and debriefing.

    One war veteran comforts another during a PTSD episode. The theme of death was woven into the larp in multiple ways: from AIDS to cancer to war. Photo by Elina Andersson. CC-BY-NC.
    One war veteran comforts another during a PTSD episode. The theme of death was woven into the larp in multiple ways: from AIDS to cancer to war. Photo by Elina Andersson. CC-BY-NC.

    My examination of Just a Little Lovin’ will discuss this framing in more detail, emphasizing the multi-layered, ritualized nature of the larp design. The careful construction and use of ritual space facilitates progressively deeper and more intense levels of play. In this analysis, I will discuss ritual in terms of both a) atmospheric rituals within the larp transpiring in specifically established spaces, and b) the overarching game framework.

    My intent in sharing these accounts is not to support the claim that this larp is the “best designed in the world,” but rather to emphasize that careful inclusion of heavily ritualized processes in larp design can guide players to deeper levels of connection and catharsis.

    All Larp is Ritual

    Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin.
    The entertainment for this evening is not new.
    You’ve seen this entertainment through and through.
    You have seen your birth, your life, your death.
    You may recall all the rest.
    Did you have a good world when you died?
    Enough to base a movie on?

    Jim Morrison, The Movie

    According to scholars Arnold van Gennep and Victor Turner,((Victor Turner, “Liminality and Communitas: Form and Attributes of Rites of Passage,” Excerpt from The Ritual Process (London, UK: Aldine, 1969). http://faculty.dwc.edu/wellman/Turner.htm)) ritual involves three stages: a departure from the mundane world with thorough separation, an entrance into an in-between state called liminality, and a return to the mundane world with an incorporation of the liminal experiences.

    1. Separation: During the separation stage, the group prepares to shed their everyday roles and enter into new ones for the purpose of the ritual. The separation phase can include practicing the ritual, costuming, makeup, masks, establishing ritual space, or other activities intended to facilitate the transition.
    2. Liminality: Participants enter their temporary social roles and play parts in a performance of some sort, either actively or passively. They cross over a “threshold” – or limen – into another state of being, which often transpires in a physical location specifically demarcated for the ritual. All participants agree to take part in this temporary, “betwixt and between” state, collectively agreeing to these new terms of their social reality. Turner refers to the liminal state as a “moment in and out of time”: a paradoxical, transitional experience.((Turner would distinguish play activities like larp as “liminoid” rather than “liminal” as they arise from leisure cultures, but this distinction is beyond the scope of this current discussion. For more information, see Victor Turner, “Liminal to Liminoid in Play, Flow, and Ritual: An Essay in Comparative Symbology,” Rice University Studies 60.3 (1974): 53-92.))
    3. Incorporation: Participants then return to their previous social roles, leaving the ritual space behind. However, they incorporate the liminal experiences into their own lives to greater and lesser degrees. For example, if a community holds a rite of passage to mark a marriage, the couple leaves the wedding with a new social status acknowledged by all present. After leisure ritual activities – called “liminoid” moments — the individual can determine how the experience will impact their involvement in the community and their development of self.(( Turner, ibid.))

    Turner believed that rituals create communitas: a greater feeling of communal connection between participants. Additionally, rituals are often guided by a shaman figure: some sort of guide or facilitator of the process who helps establish the atmosphere, tone, and components of the ritual.

    Larp designer and co-organizer Tor Kjetil Edland gets everyone's attention during pre-game workshopping. Organizers often serve the role of guide in facilitating the ritual activity of larp. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. Larp designer and co-organizer Tor Kjetil Edland gets everyone’s attention during pre-game workshopping. Organizers often serve the role of guide in facilitating the ritual activity of larp. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

    Several scholars have emphasized the ritual nature of larp itself.((For a few examples, see Christopher I. Lehrich, “Ritual Discourse in Role-playing Games,” last modified October 1, 2005, The Forge, http://www.indie-rpgs.com/_articles/ritual_discourse_in_RPGs.html; J. Tuomas Harviainen, “Information, Immersion, Identity: The Interplay of Multiple Selves During Live-Action Role-Play,” Journal of Interactive Drama 1, no. 2 (October 2006): 11; Sarah Lynne Bowman, The Functions of Role-playing Games, Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2010, pp. 15, 48-53; J. Tuomas Harviainen and Andreas Lieberoth,”The Similarity of Social Information Processes in Games and Rituals: Magical Interfaces,” Simulation & Gaming (April 10, 2011): 528-549; Sarah Lynne Bowman, “Returning to the Real World: Debriefing After Role-playing Games,” Nordiclarp.org, December 8, 2014, http://nordiclarp.org/2014/12/08/debrief-returning-to-the-real-world/)) While not religious as many rituals are, secular ritual rites do exist in society. Generally speaking, larp includes the shedding of social roles, donning of new identities, performance of these identities in a temporary space guided by an organizer, and a return to the previous self, often with some sort of change individually and socially. Players often report a greater sense of community as the result of these experiences, as evidenced by several of the quotes above.

    Therefore, Just a Little Lovin’ is not unique in its ability to create these bonds, as all larp has the potential to do so. What I believe the larp excels at doing is creating well-timed, nearly continuous ritual activities that have the potential to personally transform both the player and the character. Due to the personal nature of the larp’s content and its emphasis on sexuality, intimacy, vulnerability, and fear of death, the play offers participants the opportunity to reflect upon these aspects within themselves.

    The larp afforded players the opportunity to shed old social roles, including sexual preference and identity, and explore intimacy in a relatively safe framework. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. The larp afforded players the opportunity to shed old social roles, including sexual preference and identity, and explore intimacy in a relatively safe framework. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

    Each of the three Acts is framed by standard rituals common to the experience of most Americans to greater and lesser degrees: 1) the raising of the American flag while singing the National Anthem in the beginning and 2) a funeral at the end. Between these two poles of ritual experience, several smaller rituals are timed at regular intervals to offer potent, transformative experiences for characters and, by proxy, their players. On each side of these Acts, out-of-character ritual activities of workshopping, debriefing, and negotiating provide an even more structured frame. In this regard, Just a Little Lovin’ can be seen as producing rituals within rituals within rituals for the players. Leaving mundane life to go to a camp for five days with a group of people is a shift in perspective in and of itself, which is then followed by larping, and then followed by ritual activities within the larp.

    Ritual Spaces and Subcultures in the Larp

    Hey, babe. Take a walk on the wild side

    Lou Reed, Walk on the Wild Side

    The structure of the character relations in Just a Little Lovin’ involves each character belonging to one or more subcultures that were representative of the alternative scenes of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s in America. These subcultures include: rich gay men; the gay leather/fetish scene; drag performers; lesbian clubs; literary circles; the night club scene as exemplified by Studio 54; alternative spirituality seekers; tantra practitioners; members of a polyfidelity commune; performance artists; swingers; peace activists; a group of cancer survivors; the Radical Faeries masculinity movement; and AIDS activists. Effectively, each character had multiple connections within some of these subcultures, including their core group of friends, their primary social circle, and their extended connections within their party scene.

    Map of the character core groups and subcultural associations in Act 2. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. Map of the character core groups and subcultural associations in Act 2. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

    These subcultures often had ritualized activities associated with them, as outlined in detail below. I played Joani, one of the leaders of the Spirituals, which meant that my in-game husband Kohana (Kevin Burns), best friend Kim (Caroline Christiane Kasten Koren), and I were responsible for running some of these rituals ourselves. Joani and Kohana ran the Saratoga Pact of friendship for the cancer survivors in a copse of trees in the woods; Kohana and Kim ran the Green Drink ritual of personal transformation around the bonfire at midnight; Joani ran tantra workshops in a special room complete with lava lamps, dark lighting, and pallets; and Kohana ran all-male drum circles, also around the bonfire. Other subcultures had similar ritual spaces, such as the stage, the dance floor, and the “dark room.”

    Joani, Kohana, and Kim made up the Heart of Saratoga core group, running rituals for the cancer survivors and the larger gathering as a whole. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. Joani, Kohana, and Kim made up the Heart of Saratoga core group, running rituals for the cancer survivors and the larger gathering as a whole. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

    These spaces were established carefully as important parts of the scenography and were not in any way incidental to the setting. They offered Temporary Autonomous Zones for the Temporary Autonomous Identities of the characters: spaces where the rules of reality could function differently and where both characters and players could explore new facets of themselves.((Mike Pohjola, “Autonomous Identities: Immersion as a Tool for Exploring, Empowering, and Emancipating Identities,” in Beyond Role and Play, edited by Markus Montola and Jaakko Stenros (Helsinki, Finland: Ropecon ry, 2004), 84-85; Saitta, ibid.))

    This design created the possibility for overlap and exposure to new experiences. Rather than creating little pockets of exclusion, the social space was designed so that the environments occupied by members of these groups were in close physical and social proximity to one another. For example, the tantra room where my character ran workshops was physically next to the “dark room,” where cruising, BDSM, and lesbian activities transpired. Sounds from that room emanated into our space and some participants wandered between both at various times.

    Members of the Saratoga Pact of cancer survivors and their loved ones head to the woods for their yearly ritual of recommitment. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.
    Members of the Saratoga Pact of cancer survivors and their loved ones head to the woods for their yearly ritual of recommitment. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

    This design encouraged “regular” attendees of each subcultural space to experiment with new ones, especially when all characters were expected to participate in group rituals such as the Green Drink ceremony, which might normally not interest some individuals. As an example, my character helped run the Saratoga Pact ritual, an annual ceremony in which cancer survivors renewed their vow to remain true to themselves, live life to its fullest, and always support one another. As the years went on, we inducted new members into the Saratoga Pact based upon their connections with previous survivors: lovers, close friends, family members, etc. Therefore, other characters were exposed to a small part of the survivor experience, just as many from the Pact were exposed to the new worlds of drag queens, BDSM, performance art, etc.

    In another example, due to my off-game interest in drag and desire to help with the show, my character spent a good deal of time helping with makeup in the backstage area. This experience gave her access to a new subcultural realm and mode of artistic expression, as well as deeper connections with that social group in the game. The design of the physical and social space facilitated these sorts of crossovers.

    Ritual in the Structure of the Larp Design

    You can dance, you can jive
    Having the time of your life
    See that girl, watch that scene
    Digging the Dancing Queen

    ABBA, Dancing Queen

    Just a Little Lovin’ takes place over the span of three Acts, each focusing upon a central theme: Act I is Desire, Act II is the Fear of Death, and Act III is Friendship. The total game time is approximately five days. 5pm until 12pm the next day is spent in-character during the Act, framed by workshopping before and debriefing after. Before each Act, players negotiate with their groups about how best to proceed, followed by 1-2 hours of downtime. The whole experience is followed by de-roleing and debriefing, with a much-needed afterparty in the evening after Act III, where players can reconnect with their out-of-game selves, as well as process their experiences and connect with others.

    Off-game negotiation within core groups in between Acts helps direct play for the next phase. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. Off-game negotiation within core groups in between Acts helps direct play for the next phase. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

    Game time itself is heavily structured with back-to-back in-game rituals, which I detail below. Players are empowered to design and run many of these rituals themselves, with the exception of the National Anthem, the Lottery of Death, and the funerals, which are run by the organizers. The 2015 run of the game had roughly the following structure, with some variation from Act to Act of non-essential rituals like tantra, BDSM, and drum circles:

    Kohana during the raising of the flag, National Anthem, and subsequent speech. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. Kohana during the raising of the flag, National Anthem, and subsequent speech. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.
    1. Song: The organizers play the “Just a Little Lovin’” song by Dusty Springfield while characters are frozen. This song ritually starts and ends the entire larp.
    2. Entrance to Mr. T’s party: The party is itself a ritualized escape from the mundane world, as people can feel free to explore new identities. For example, a professor by day can engage in gay BDSM scenes at night.
    3. National Anthem: The raising of the American flag on the porch, accompanied by the singing of the American National Anthem.
    4. Speeches: T gives a welcome speech. Kohana gives a speech to honor the Saratoga Pact and summons members to that ceremony.
    5. Saratoga Pact: Joani and Kohana run the Saratoga Pact ceremony for the cancer survivors in the woods away from the main party. When I ran this ritual, I had us recite the words of the pact in call-and-response format. Then, I asked each of those gathered to state their intentions for the year, evaluate past intentions, and induct new members. I hoped the intention part of the ritual would serve as a form of steering ((Markus Montola, Jaakko Stenros, and Eleanor Saitta, “The Art of Steering: Bringing the Player and the Character Back Together,” in The Knudepunkt 2015 Companion Book, edited by Charles Bo Nielsen and Claus Raasted (Copenhagen, Denmark: Rollespilsakademiet, 2014), 106-177.)), where player-characters could focus their goals for each day of play in a directed manner.
    6. The Games (optional): The Indigo House members organized some fun physical game activities in the field during Act II.
    Eating together was an important ritual activity as members from different social circles had the chance to become acquainted. During the breakfast of Act III, an impromptu gay wedding took place. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. Eating together was an important ritual activity as members from different social circles had the chance to become acquainted. During the breakfast of Act III, an impromptu gay wedding took place. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.
    1. Dinner: Ritual of eating together. Mr. T usually gave a speech during dinner.
    2. Tantra Workshops (optional): In the tantra room, I ran workshops in Acts I and III, primarily using techniques of guided mediation, eye gazing, and ars amandi.((Nudity and actual sex were forbidden at the larp, as was the consumption of real drugs or alcohol. The sex mechanics are described in the next section.))
    3. Dark room (optional): BDSM scenes, lesbian hour, and cruising pick-ups. The dark room was intended for characters willing to have semi-anonymous sexual encounters. Lesbian hour was part of the structure of the larp in order to establish liminal space for those characters as well.
    4. Drum circles (optional): In Acts II and III, Kohana/Kevin ran all-male drum circles for the Spirituals and Radical Faeries around the bonfire, with several other men attending as well.
    5. Blackbox scenes (optional): Transpiring throughout the Acts, the blackbox was a liminal space within which players could negotiate and play out scenes from the past, the future, or fantasies. Two blackbox rooms were set aside for these purposes and did not “exist” in the normal game space. Our group used this space, for example, for Kohana to guide the Spirituals through a shamanic journey to meet their spirit animals — a scene that had transpired in the past.
    DJ Tony, singer-songwriter Marylou, and Nate, the Queen of Manhattan during the drag/variety show. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. DJ Tony, singer-songwriter Marylou, and Nate, the Queen of Manhattan during the drag/variety show. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.
    1. Drag /variety show: Performance art, drag shows, singing, male stripping, poetry readings, anti-war protests, safe sex public service announcements, and rock band performances. Most of the characters attended or participated in this ritual during each Act.
    2. Dance party (optional): Seduction on the dance floor, vogue-offs, circles where characters danced in the center, and general revelry transpired during this time.
    3. Hookah smoking (optional): A “love nest” similar to a treehouse in the woods was set up with lights, pallets, and a hookah. Characters ritually smoked tobacco, laughed, and shared stories.
    4. Green Drink Ceremony at midnight: Serves as an in-game ritual and a metatechnique. The characters consumed the Green Drink, which has unspecified contents in-game. This technique allowed players the chance to steer their characters toward explosions of building conflict or redirect them into new perspectives. Brilliant in replicating the transformative moments of hallucinogens that many people experience, while also offering the player an opportunity to take the reins of the character in their desired direction.
    Lighting the paper balloons to commemorate the fallen. Photo by Elina Andersson. CC-BY-NC. Lighting the paper balloons to commemorate the fallen. Photo by Elina Andersson. CC-BY-NC.
    1. Fireworks and paper balloon ceremony: Each night after the green drink, fireworks were lit. In Act II and Act III, paper balloons were lit in memory of those who passed that year. The balloons rose into the air, then the lights winked out just over the horizon.
    2. Aerobics (optional): In at least one Act, the Amazons, a lesbian-run aerobics club, led a workout session for interested parties.
    3. Breakfast: Ritual of eating together. During Act III, two gay characters had an impromptu, “unlawful” wedding during breakfast to celebrate being alive and in love. Another ritual within a ritual. This moment later proved poignant for the players; Marriage Equality was finally ruled legal by the Supreme Court the next day in the U.S., over thirty years later in real time.
    4. Song Between Life and Death: In the diner, a song was played to indicate the space between life and death, as well as the passage of time. All players were expected to remain quiet during the song, though they could hold hands or hug.
    5. The Lottery of Death: Angels arrived to announce the Lottery of Death. Characters had to place the amount of lottery tickets in the hat equal to the risk level of their sexual activity in the last year. Names were drawn and those characters were called away.
    Death was personified in the larp, guiding the characters to the Funeral and delivering the eulogy for those who passed. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC. Death was personified in the larp, guiding the characters to the Funeral and delivering the eulogy for those who passed. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.
    1. Death arrives personified as a woman: Characters were led outside and instructed to collect flowers for the funeral. Chopin’s “Funeral March” was played in the background.
    2. Death marches the group to the funeral space: Individuals who survived death that year were released to their loved ones.
    3. Funeral: The group approached the coffins, where the characters who died lay. Death read the second chorus of the National Anthem like a eulogy, which framed the end of the Act.

    Little downtime existed between the non-optional scheduled events, but characters had plenty of time for seduction, explosive arguments, breakups, drug overdoses, or laughing around the hookah. The tight schedule ensured that usually no more than 1-2 hours passed where no significant group event was transpiring. This structure afforded players consistent involvement with the larp on some level.

    Additionally, these in-game spaces sometimes changed meaning or significance over the course of the larp. Spaces where casual sex once occurred such as the dark room were often eerily empty in later Acts as the fear of death became a palpable mood. Rituals also changed; the drag/variety show became much darker and sadder as the Acts progressed. Still, having the primary rituals and spaces remain intact added a sense of consistency for a community plagued by fear and grief.

    Off-game Ritualized Structures

    Let’s have some fun, this beat is sick.
    I wanna take a ride on your disco stick.
    Let’s play a love game, play a love game.
    Do you want love or you want fame?
    Are you in the game? Dans le love game?

    Lady Gaga, Love Game

    Another important ritualized structure within the larp involved the sex mechanics. In everyday life, sexual encounters are sometimes considered liminal acts in their own right. In larps, sex scenes are approached in multiple ways: not pursued at all, played literally, or enacted using representational techniques such as backrubs, ars amandi, rock-paper-scissors, or other “resolution” mechanics.

    In Just a Little Lovin‘, sex scenes also followed a ritual structure. One player would offer a pink feather to another, which represented an invitation to a sex scene. The other could choose to accept or deny the feather. Denying the feather did not represent an actual in-game rejection, but rather out-of-game consent to play a scene. Players would then go off-game and negotiate the boundaries of the scene, comfort with kissing/touching, and the events that would occur. Groping of breasts or genitals was not permitted. Players had to remain clothed and use a wooden phallus as a representational object to indicate sexual touch regardless of whether the sex was gay, lesbian, queer, or heteronormative. When the negotiated scene was over, characters stood side-by-side and used the Monologue metatechnique, which allowed them to externalize their character’s thoughts to the other player. Altogether, these metatechniques ritualized the beginning, middle, and end of each sex scene in a way that allowed for intensity, while maintaining a sense of safety and player distance.

    Members of the Indigo House, a polyfidelity commune in which all members were in an exclusive, group relationship. Photo by Sarah Lynne Bowman. CC-BY-NC. Members of the Indigo House, a polyfidelity commune in which all members were in an exclusive, group relationship. Photo by Sarah Lynne Bowman. CC-BY-NC.

    Players could also call “cut” or “brake” in any scene. They could move their bodies to subtly indicate discomfort with kissing or touching in a non-verbal way that did not break the scene, a maneuver that was termed Deflection. Again, these safety mechanisms did not affect the fiction of the larp, but provided a greater sense of comfort for many of the participants engaging in intimate encounters.

    Overall, extensive workshopping in large and small groups served as the separation phase for the main ritual of the larp, as did costuming. For the incorporation phase, the organizers ran structured debriefs that lasted around 1-2 hours in groups of approximately ten people. After Act III, we de-roled by placing a piece of our character’s costuming in the center of a large circle, then wrote letters to our characters as ourselves. We were assigned a de-roleing buddy, to whom we read the letters. We were expected to exchange contact information and check in with our buddy in two weeks after the larp. These processes aided in both the return to the self and in reconciling the relationship between the self and the character. The organizers then invited guest speakers to discuss their experiences with HIV activism and with cancer, which served as a way to contextualize the themes we had just larped with real world experiences and facts.

    Post-game connection between participants through the playing of music and drums, which were central ritualized activities during the larp. Post-game connection between participants through the playing of music and drums, which were central ritualized activities during the larp.

    As mentioned earlier, the afterparty was another crucial part of this larp, allowing players time to decompress, distance, and discuss events with other participants. Additionally, each year at the Nordic larp conference Knudepunkt, organizers host an hour-long Just a Little Lovin’ dance party, which many players attend in their costumes from the larp. Social media sites like Facebook also provide outlets for people to discuss their experiences, organize reunions, and share information about HIV and other relevant topics.

    Summary

    The game content of Just a Little Lovin’ on its own is powerful, exploring themes of sex, love, death, and friendship. Adding ritual elements to the larp works to draw players even deeper into the experience. For example, many participants can no longer hear the songs built into the larp design without a flood of memories and powerful emotions returning to them. Even if the character rejects the content of one of the rituals in-game, thinking it “weird” or “uninteresting,” these events offer the opportunity for the character to react to in-game stimuli, which can draw them deeper into immersion. Additionally, the repetition of these in-game rituals in every Act with changes in the fiction each time can create new meaning: a sense of irony, feelings of grief, a sense of stability in an uncertain world.

    All larps can include these ritualistic techniques and many larps have similar spaces set aside. Some fantasy and post-apocalyptic larps, for example, have elaborate religions built into the game, complete with rituals, sacred spaces, and mythology. Other Nordic larps such as KoiKoi and Totem have included extensive rituals as well, which are worth examining with regard to their impact on the larp experience.

    In the case of Just a Little Lovin’, however, the inclusion of vulnerability, sexuality, romantic intimacy, and death summons a particularly cathartic element for many of the players, especially since these elements become intertwined. Therefore, Just a Little Lovin’ demonstrates how ritual elements in larp design combined with complex interweaving social connections and a strong theme can provoke intense emotional reactions and feelings of communal connection in the players.


    Cover photo: The rock band Urban Renaissance closed the drag/variety show every night with an energetic performance. Although Rain (right) died in Act II, the show went on in Act III. Photo: Petter Karlsson. CC-BY-NC.

  • Hinterland: Playing to Really Lose

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    Hinterland: Playing to Really Lose

    By

    Emma Ström

    In the year 2013, the Swedish midsummer idyll is shattered to pieces when Russia suddenly attacks. A war without winners commences, followed by the deadly epidemic called Rosen (the Rose). In refugee camps around the country, tens of thousands die from starvation, violence and sickness. Three years after that first fatal bombing night, the gates to Kolsjön’s refugee camp finally fall and a small group of survivors find their way out into what was once Sweden.

    Makeshift protection from disease (play, Sebastian Utbult).Thus begins Berättelsefrämjandet’s Hinterland, the most recent larp of the Solnedgång campaign. I participated in the second run of two, together with 45 other larpers who also decided that a “hardcore sandbox larp in a post-apocalyptic setting” was just right (although that might sound intimidating, several first time larpers participated and reportedly had a blast). However, I’d rather like to create the new category called “survival larp,” and label Hinterland as that.

    The instructions from the organizers were clear: don’t bring stuff! The entire packing list encompassed a water bottle, something to eat out of, and possibly some personal memorabilia. Food had to be found in-game, as did sleeping gear and heat sources. After the first run of the larp, the amount of findable food had been adjusted and reduced to make it too scarce for everyone to be fed at the same time. The strong or the cunning survived.

    The safety aspect was of course carefully planned on the organizers’ part. For example, there was always enough water for everyone, and sandwiches and a bed in the off-game house. Just knowing this existed calmed a lot of people, and for me it meant that I never had to use it: I was perfectly safe in knowing that the option was there while we tested new larp limits.

    Thou Shalt Readily Steal

    One of the strongest taboos of all in larping is to never steal people’s food or sleeping gear. Hinterland went outside the box even here and encouraged stealing these things in order to emphasize the sense of scarcity, vulnerability, and exposure. Before the larp, several participants mentioned how hard it was going to be to steal someone’s food or let someone freeze at night. What helped me in momentarily shutting down my off-game moral compass was the common agreement we’d all accepted when signing up for the larp. We were prepared for rough times, for being hungry and cold, and we wanted to experience that.

    Trying to survive (play, Sebastian Utbult).During the larp, there was indeed some sneaking and stealing, but I think it could have been expanded even further. One culprit turned out to be, somewhat surprisingly, the Swedish freedom to roam. It was clear that this part of Swedish culture provides us with knowledge and access to food at all times without us considering it as special, something that one of the foreign participants noted in wonder:

    And then I saw people starting to pick grass, and I thought that I hope they’re not going to eat… Yes, they’re eating it.

    Another culprit was the “niceness trap”, which was discussed briefly prior to the larp albeit hard to avoid. It’s much nicer if everyone is happy: we are supposed to share, we are supposed to meta-think that it will be too much for someone if they don’t get lunch. A big push in the right, individualistic direction came when a group of raiders robbed us of everything they could find – including the iron stove in one of the houses! When 46 people own 3 blankets instead of 50, the situation is suddenly quite different.

    Control of the Sandbox

    The larp was labelled as sandbox, i.e. very little control and guidance came from the organizers, while the participants were free to create the story they wanted. The location itself also offered “physical sandboxing” as several houses set for full renovation, entailing lots of scrap, were at the larpers’ disposal. To be able to break windows, smash furniture, and steal anything not nailed down really added to the immersion in a larp like this.

    Raiders using dogs to terrorize the refugees (play, Olle Nyman).While it can be really hard as an organizer to let players be “bored” during a larp, this was crucial to the Hinterland experience. Long periods of downtime and a low-speed larp in general offered both opportunities for processing, fine-tuned play and internal misery. Also, downtime made the action-filled elements much stronger as they became a sudden contrast to the low pace. A few occurrences of NPC groups (Non-Player Characters) appeared to stir the player pot, where the example of raiders has been mentioned above and others were the national forces or neighbouring farmers.

    The use of dogs as a terror and power aspect with the NPCs worked excellently. It’s a physical trigger both visibly and audibly, and at the same time it touches upon fears tied to survival even off-game. Naturally, the dogs must be well trained and the players must act safely around them at all times. Hinterland had clear rules regarding this. The character creation process also included a common memory for all characters of leaving the camp and getting past the guard dogs, which made the dogs easy and believable triggers that enabled strong play.

    There was some guidance apart from the NPC elements. A small number of players from run 1 participated during run  2 with the explicit function of being able to escalate the play or increase hardships if the story became too “cozy”. Their characters could also vanish from play earlier than Sunday, which I think gave a deeper emotional game than otherwise, since people lost friends and were simultaneously reminded that no one was safe. The organizers had instructed us in the dramaturgic curve of the larp as well, which ranged from cooperation during Friday to breakdown during Sunday. That aided me in steering some of the choices I made, even if that was a more subtle kind of guidance.

    1, 2, 3, Gulp!

    A comforting hug (play, Sebastian Utbult).A large part of the larp circulated around the deadly disease Rosen. To determine who was infected during the course of the weekend, the organizers had created a system of “disease pills”. At run 2, we got three pills each to be taken continuously on Saturday. If the pill contained sugar, we were healthy, but if it contained salt, we had been infected. It was up to us as players to determine how fast we wanted to act out the passage of the disease and if we wanted our characters to die on Sunday. According to the organizers, 10 out of the 46 participants were randomly selected for infection, and I was one of them.

    The pills didn’t exist in-game; they were a meta thing only added for guiding the game. I took my first pill with tense expectation; it felt fun in the same way as opening a lottery ticket does. Sugar! My second pill, a few hours later, was taken with palpable anxiety and clenched stomach. Salt. Instinctively, I tried to deny the taste up until the capsule broke and the entire dosage fell out on my tongue. As I had decided not to play sick prior to the game, this was a surprising turn for me that, thanks to its quite physical instruction, really gave me the entire journey from denial to despair  –  and death. I can definitely see this technique being used in other situations where a “higher power” randomly decides the outcome of characters.

    The Mental Steps

    For a larp with such heavy themes as Hinterland’s, pre- and post- work is important. On Friday, there were mandatory workshops focused on character identity and physical play, as well as a measure of relation building. Afterward, a few of us discussed the lack of more psychological play in workshops. Today, physical play gets more and more incorporated in most larps, including a pre-set basic level of it. Even at larps where the focus is not on physical violence, it usually gets a disproportionate amount of time during workshops. Techniques for psychological oppression, on the other hand, are scarcely represented in instructions and exercises despite the fact that they offer great depth for characters and relations. During Hinterland, which was a low-speed larp as opposed to an action larp, more psychological play between characters would have fit perfectly.

    Casualites of the plague (play, Sebastian Utbult).After the larp, a mandatory longer debrief was held for all participants. The motivation that even if you yourself don’t need a debrief, you’ve been part of someone else’s story that might need debriefing, was spot-on to me. My view of the debrief techniques was that they emanated from the thought that one had had a very strong experience during the larp and that one had to return step by step. This didn’t suit everyone, but better to originate with those who need it most than least. On the other hand, several participants felt stressed by having to stay while they themselves were not comfortable with the debrief methods. That might have been remedied by presenting more info on this before the larp, and a more structured organization of the clean-up that followed after debrief. To be able to start fiddling with things gives a sense of doing something relevant and not just waiting.

    The function of “debrief buddies” becomes more frequent in relation to larps nowadays, and is a technique I appreciate. Many along with me find it hard to tell how they were affected immediately after the larp ends, and the worst bleed often appears a few days later. To have a check-up booked with someone who was there is something I find sensible and is a safety aspect I welcome. However, I’m not sure that I think that debrief buddies should be appointed randomly, as they were here, considering that the mission is to handle heavier reactions (which means a kind of exposure). On my part, I’d like to have someone I at least interacted with during the larp, in order to have a sense of who the other person is in our common context.

    Effects After the Game

    A shallow grave (play, Olle Nyman).It’s fascinating how much you can let yourself be affected during just one weekend. It helps, of course, to be mentally prepared, to go with the idea of experiencing vulnerability and harsh living conditions. Still, many reactions turned out surprisingly strong afterwards, especially when it came to food and property.

    When you’ve been on your knees in the gravel picking up seeds of rice fallen out of the raiders’ stolen goods, when you’ve gone to sleep with a piece of a curtain as a blanket, when you’ve lost everything you owned and realize that the most important item was the broken bottle you used for water… Then, other perspectives suddenly become apparent in our off-game Sweden.

    I see how the gas station screams at me with hundreds of labels and items, how the servings at the restaurant are enormous and how we throw away that which could have fed lots of people for days. I realize how many things I own that have no value when it comes to survival. And how safe we are, really, in this society we were lucky enough to arrive in. I’m ashamed by the privilege of being able to “pretend” to suffer and live rough during a short while, just to return to my own reality without persecution, war, and hate.

    And at the same time, I’m eternally grateful for all the insights I gain, because that makes me better, makes me be better as a person in a world where resources really are too few and far between. I think that for each person who goes through a larp like Hinterland, the level of understanding in the world increases a little. And that, dear fellow larpers, is huge.

    Post-larp workshop for leaving your character behind (post-game, Sebastian Utbult).

    Hinterland

    Credits: Main designers and producers were Olle Nyman, Sebastian Utbult & Erik Stormark, for Berättelsefrämjandet. Co-produced by Karin Edman & Simon Svensson, with the help of Andreas Sigfridsson, Helen Stark and Ida Eberg.
    Date: May 8–10, 2015 & May 22–24, 2015
    Location: Private land (abandoned 19th century farm) near Kopparberg, Sweden
    Length: 40 hours of play, 3–4 hours of workshop (per run)
    Players: 83 (max 50 per run) + NPCs
    Budget: ~€7,000 (Proceeds were donated to Ingen människa är illegal/No One is Illegal)
    Participation Fee: €50–€250 (depending on income), €80 for a standard ticket
    Game Mechanics: Honor System, playing to lose, safewords, pre-larp workshop, act structure, blank-firing firearms & blank weapons, meta-techniques (opt in).
    Website: http://beratta.org/hinterland
    Trailer:


    Cover photo: Players scraping up spilled rice from the ground (play, Olle Nyman). Other photos by Sebastian Utbult and Olle Nyman.

  • Hinterland: Design for Real Knives and Misery

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    Hinterland: Design for Real Knives and Misery

    By

    JC

    Hinterland was a Swedish post-apocalyptic larp about refugees and disease. It was language-neutral, in effect meaning that people did their best to switch to whichever language was most inclusive for the players present in any given scene. What follows is my personal take as a player on some aspects of its design, and in particular on the way it used real weapons and real physical misery.

    The raiders have left, taking most of our scavenged food and blankets with them. Now a group is checking everyone for Rosen (“The Rose”, the deadly infectious disease spreading among the refugees). I’m slowly removing my stinking shirt and jacket when I see it, the tell-tale symptom: a bleeding rash on my stomach. God, please, no…

    Physical Misery

    Refugees sleep in an abandoned house (play, Sebastian Utbult).
    Hinterland was pretty hardcore. In it, players took on the roles of exhausted refugees in a post-nuclear war, plague-ridden Sweden for 48 hours. They could not bring any food with them, and organizers provided very little. Even this was partly taken from them by NPC raiders, along with most of their blankets (temperatures dropped to about 5°C at night). Characters then fought over what was left, stealing anything unguarded.

    Organizers encouraged those who felt that digging for one meal a day and shivering in their dirty rags wasn’t hardcore enough to “play to lose harder,” for example by finding an excuse to sleep in a leaky barn instead of staying in the main house. As a result, many players were actually cold, hungry and tired.

    This was of course the whole point, as I perceive that one of Hinterland’s aims was to make participants experience the life of a refugee for two days. This facet of the larp was akin to agendas of other games, such as Last Will (where you can play a slave) or Just a Little Lovin’ (where you can play a gay person). Even though the organizers more or less explicitly stated their objective (in particular during the debrief discussion topics), one didn’t have to engage in political discussion around the larp to enjoy it. Personally though, I found it a pretty cool and effective way of getting the point across.

    Players milling around after the game (post-game, Sebastian Utbult).But back to the misery! So how do you get people to play along so far into hardcore-land? The trick, I feel, is the presence of a safety net: if at any time, a player felt they had had enough (too cold, hungry, stressed), they could just head off to a designated off-game area for a meal and warm bed. Apart from a few caffeine-addicts, no one actually made use of this possibility on the run I attended (the larp was played twice). But knowing it was there made many of us feel safe when “playing to lose our food” or stealing someone’s blanket.

    The system is not foolproof, of course. Just like safety words, all sorts of things can still go wrong. But I personally found the safety-net approach to hardcore misery to be simple and effective. Not only did people agree to get pushed into something closer – if naturally not equivalent – to what a refugee might experience, but it also created an improved framework for dramatic play. Things which are powerful topics for conflictual scenes, but are in many larps not to be messed with (especially not all at the same time), were fair game here, knowing yourself and the other player had this safety net to fall back on: getting thrown out of the only warm place to sleep, hiding a can of rice while others are hungry, etc.

    As I stumble towards the barn, coughing blood, I notice the sign planted in the middle of the road. On the torn-off plank, the moonlight reveals crude letters hastily drawn in charcoal: ROSEN. All I can do is stand there and stare at it, shivering in my dirty blanket.

    So, No Boffer Weapons, Huh?

    A sign warning about Rosen (The Rose), the plague killing off  the refugees (play, Sebastian Utbult).Most weapons used by the characters were knives or tools, such as old pitchforks for example. Real, sharp ones, that is, not the boffer versions. This made for a very immersive experience; after all, nothing looks more like a rusty blade or a metal club than the actual thing.

    Of course, this meant that anything beyond threats was almost impossible, for safety reasons. Armed fighting needed to be very carefully planned, and even then, it was limited to things like “a deadly stab in the back.” This, in turn, meant that weapons in Hinterland were more a way to control or influence people and situations than actual fighting tools, thus serving the larp’s narrativist agenda. It might seem surprising, but when properly workshopped, real knives mean more drama.

    It’s been some time since I’ve traded our last scraps of food for painkillers. People are leaving, saying goodbye, while someone strokes my hair. Dying bodies lie crumpled on the ground. Enya, how I wish you were here… I’m floating away…

    Conclusion

    Having a safety net allows players to “go harder”. This can be interesting for its own sake. It’s also a smart design move for larps that rely on getting participants out of their comfort zone to make a political point. Hinterland is a prime example of this, making people experience some of the hardships faced by refugees.

    The other main design lesson for me here was the use of real weapons. While initially surprising, it’s a great way of shifting a larp’s focus from actual fighting to drama; with the added bonus of looking good.

    Workshop to let go of character (post-game, Sebastian Utbult).

    Hinterland

    Credits: Main designers and producers were Olle Nyman, Sebastian Utbult & Erik Stormark, for Berättelsefrämjandet. Co-produced by Karin Edman & Simon Svensson, with the help of Andreas Sigfridsson, Helen Stark and Ida Eberg.
    Date: May 8–10, 2015 & May 22–24, 2015
    Location: Private land (abandoned 19th century farm) near Kopparberg, Sweden
    Length: 40 hours of play, 3–4 hours of workshop (per run)
    Players: 83 (max 50 per run) + NPCs
    Budget: ~€7,000 (Proceeds were donated to Ingen människa är illegal/No One is Illegal)
    Participation Fee: €50–€250 (depending on income), €80 for a standard ticket
    Game Mechanics: Honor System, playing to lose, safewords, pre-larp workshop, act structure, blank-firing firearms & blank weapons, meta-techniques (opt in).
    Website: http://beratta.org/hinterland


    Cover photo: Bandits raid the refugee camp (play, Sebastian Utbult).

  • The Last Ropecon at Dipoli

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    The Last Ropecon at Dipoli

    By

    Juhana Pettersson

    Ropecon is a Finnish roleplaying game convention. It’s also been something that’s been a part of my life for twenty years now.

    It was first organized in 1994, but I missed the initial years. I’m pretty sure my first Ropecon was 1996. I was sixteen and had just discovered Werewolf: the Apocalypse. I had made a character I figured was real badass, and wanted to play it in a game.

    Mike Pohjola places a viking helmet on top of a flapboard at our Baltic Warriors presentation.Dipoli is a conference center in Espoo, Finland. It has been home to Ropecon from 1998, but now was the last year. Next time, it’s going to be at Messukeskus, or Helsinki Fair Centre.

    For me, Dipoli was “the new Ropecon venue” for maybe ten years, because the first ones I attended had been at another place. The building has come to define the event with its labyrinthine interior and plentiful greenery outside. The event is usually held at the end of July, but this time it was last weekend.

    A larp prop from the game Tonnin stiflat, this is a “torpedo” of canisters that are filled with booze for smuggling during the Prohibition. It was used at the larp costume galaMy Ropecon experiences tend to be defined by the program items I go there to hold, and this year was no different. We started on Friday with Mike Pohjola by doing a presentation about Baltic Warriors, the larp campaign we’re organizing this summer. This is something I’ve done a number of years: Go to Ropecon to talk about my latest things.

    I got downright sentimental later when we went to drink outside with a few friends. We headed to the end of a pier down at the waterfront, because I wanted to stand there one more time. I’ve published or helped to publish five books at Ropecon, and after the book publishing presentations, we’ve had a little champagne to celebrate at the pier. This time we didn’t have a book, but it was still nice to go there anyway.

    On Saturday night, I held a presentation called Larpin rajoilla, the Limits of Larp, with Maria Pettersson. Our idea was simply to see what are all the places larp has gone to, geographically, socially, within the human body. It was one of the most fun presentations I’ve ever worked on, and seemed to go down well.

    Here’s the Argentinean video about Hitler and Vampire larp we used:

    On Sunday, we walked around the con area with Maria. It felt nostalgic to think about all the things that had happened there, the larps we’ve run, the books we’ve published, the presentations, the parties, the games and the conversations.

    Ropecon will go on, but I suspect that at least for the next ten years, it will feel like its at “the new venue”.


    Cover photo: The view at the entrance on Sunday. Photo by Juhana Pettersson.

  • Tonnin Stiflat: Season One – To Booze or Not to Booze…

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    Tonnin Stiflat: Season One – To Booze or Not to Booze…

    By

    Johannes Axner

    Setting

    Helsinki in the 1920’s: urbanization, the admiring gaze towards Europe; jazz and lipstick, daring women entering the public sphere; a country divided by the bitter civil war in 1918; prohibition and the tsunami of illegal alcohol and booze-related crimes. The perfect setting for a larp, and as Niina had published two novels set in the same milieu a reasonable amount of research was already done.

    Helsinki as a city and a state of mind was a central theme in Tonnin stiflat (Thousand Mark Shoes). Therefore we decided to make the most of it and play in the streets. Helsinki has, of course, changed in 100 years, but especially in the city center plenty of old architecture, cafés, restaurants and parks still remain or have the same atmosphere as in the twenties. The omnipresent modernity cannot be avoided, though, so we focused the game to areas with the most suitable architecture and atmosphere. However, playing in Tonnin stiflat certainly demanded selective attention and active disregarding of a lot of surrounding anachronisms.

    Stories

    From grief arises revenge (Play, Tuomas Puikkonen).One of the main stories was, of course, bootlegging. Two leagues competed over clients and deals, and the plot thickened in the first game as the other boss was arrested and her right hand woman accidentally shot by a police officer.

    This was pre-planned to create a power vacuum for other characters to fill. The arrest and the death also launched several smaller plots.

    The civil war fought soon after the declaration of independence from Russia has effects even now, let alone only ten years later. Consequently, politics were present also in Tonnin stiflat and many characters had conflicts dating back to the civil war.

    The stain of communism sat hard on the defeated – those who survived prison camps, diseases and hunger. The communist workers in Tonnin stiflat were hard working, sick and poor, but strong in their ideology. Their actions crossed with the security police, which resulted in one of the most violent scenes in the game.

    The twenties can also be seen as a stage for art, obliquities and the decadent. Paris, for a few characters, glittered as a paradise full of drugs, luxury, art and love. This kind of life also had its reverse side of addiction, abuse, venereal disease and general not-being-in-the-paradise, a constant longing for something better. The young painter gave herself to her godfather’s use in exchange for money and art education, and sat finally by his bed when syphilis devoured him into painful death. The conservative teacher struggled with hopeless love and a death in his past, and the only escape was suicide.

    Murder is part of the noir genre, and where there is murder, there is revenge. As death in larp easily becomes a short term curiosity and is soon forgotten, every death in the game was initiated or authorised by us. An apothecary found dead, triggered the detective’s game, and the death of the bootlegger caused her sweetheart and friends to seek revenge. Both cases were solved in their own way in the last game.

    Characters

    The 18 characters were written iteratively in collaboration. After the casting, the core concepts of the characters were written into full characters by us, and after the pregame workshop and players’ own additions and changes, the final version of the character was written. The players had a big responsibility in fleshing out their character and in specifying relations to other characters. In-depth personal histories etc. were also up to the players to develop, while we focused on the functional core of the character.

    Bootleggers have dragged a torpedo full of spirits to the shore. The police will soon attack (Play, Tuomas Puikkonen).The players were chosen from the roughly 70 registrants. The casting was made on the basis of mainly two things: player’s enrolment info including her (or his) wishes and capabilities, and our aim to avoid conservative gender stereotypes.

    The core character concepts were gender neutral, and players could also choose their character’s sex. Our principle – and our only explicit anachronism – was that gender should not limit the characters’ actions or possibilities in any way. To name a few, the cynical private detective was female and the luxury-yearning prostitute male, the heroic bootlegger was male but as smuggling bosses we had powerful queens, not kings. In the end, we were quite happy with the casting as players’ wishes and our vision aligned nicely.

    It was also possible to enroll as supporting cast. The supporting cast of roughly 40 was the most central and multifaceted tool used in the game. Their task was to create preplanned scenes, enliven character histories, bring in new plots, surprises and information, be found dead or die in the hands of the characters, perform music and dance, etc. A supporting role could last the whole season and develop in different ways, or it could be a ten-minute scene with only one player in it. The supporting cast were instructed carefully for each scene they appeared in so they knew their purpose and the aim of the scene. They acted as instructed or improvised to the desired direction.

    Design

    Snapshot from a photo shoot (pre-game, Tuomas Puikkonen).The design in Tonnin stiflat aimed towards high precision experience design. The idea was to provide individually tailored experience for each player. This required a different set of tools than e.g. larps relying on brute force designed sandbox or 360-illusion. The small number of players enabled us to do precision work that would not have been possible in a larger larp without significant increase in resources.

    The central design goal of S tifl at was high resolution social interaction between dramatically interesting yet realistically portrayed characters. For this we wanted a strong emphasis on power structures and relations between characters. It was essential that all plots and storylines would somehow concretely materialize during the game-play. The characters were forced to make choices that had consequences inside the game, and those choices would ultimately form a unique story arc for each character and climax in the third episode.

    Most of the design tools used were tools that increase control over the larp. However it was of utmost importance that they were utilized in a manner that does not sacrifice what we consider the essence of roleplaying – immersion, action in character, high definition social interaction between characters and meaningful decision making that has consequences in the larp. Indeed, by increasing control and stepping away from purely open sandbox playing, we aimed at enabling those features and providing solid structures to support them.

    Tools

    Tonnin stiflat utilized a selected set of tools to enable gameplay that elicits the type of player experience we were after. Our toolset included pre-game workshopping, iterative character creation, supporting cast, pre-planned scenes, meta instructions, custom debriefing methods, reporting and multi directional feedback, etc. Preplanned and scheduled scenes were one of the defining design features of Stiflat.

    For some it all started as slightly decadent mostly innocent (Play,Tuomas Puikkonen).In their written briefs before the game the players had a schedule for the game and typically from two to five different pre-planned scenes. The scenes varied significantly in duration, the amount preparations and supporting cast involved, and the degree of fateplay involved. These were designed in order to guide the storylines, dramatic structures and geographic locations of the players so that all players would have game that is meaningful, full but not too full – of action, where their wishes are fulfilled, and that would provide maximum support for character interaction and dynamics.

    We also tried to schedule sufficient time for free flowing playing so that the prescheduled scenes would not dominate the larp entirely and that the players wouldn’t feel that they have no agency in the game.

    Different types of meta instructions were also used in directing the players to act in a desired manner, to explicate interaction possibilities, and to enable interimmersion and the support of other players’ character concepts. These were always given well in advance so that the required steering would feel more natural. All characters had a weakness and a strength that was known to all players (“X is willing to do anything for money and luxury”, or “It is very easy to open up and discuss private matters with Y”). Also from episode to episode, we had varying meta instructions to direct the play and encourage certain interactions (e.g. “Accuse X of apothecary’s murder”, “Pay attention to Y’s mood”, “Recount how tough it is to be a private detective to the bartender”). We designed all meta instructions to activate, enable, and drive things forward instead of disabling or blocking anything.

    In Retrospect

    Private eye and her assistant discover apothecary’s dead body (Play, Tuomas Puikkonen).

    …this really was one of the best games I ever been to, and I don’t how to thank you so that it would convey the message.Technically this was very well conducted: railroading, scenes, the use of supporting cast and the whole structure of the game was all fantastic – I have never been in a game that would have been so much built for my character and that had such a clear story arc and still have so much everything else going on around you at the same time.

    Player

    This game showed me I can feel uncertainty, anxiety, guilt, comradeship, desperation and love in a refreshing way when larping. Not many games elicit these feelings.

    Player

    Looking back at Tonnin stiflat: Season One, we can say that we succeeded in what we set out to achieve. Not everything went 100% as planned and there is always room to improve, but overall we are very satisfied. We managed to share our vision with players, and players took it as their own and played in a terrific ensemble.

    We are especially happy that the character interaction was as nuanced, immersive, powerful, and multi-faceted as we hoped it would be. We managed to build structures that gave meaning to different twists in the story and to the decisions characters had to make.

    Also most storylines manifested as concrete action in the game, and they were brought to conclusion at the end of the season. All this was made possible by the smooth collaboration between all participants.

    In retrospect, three games in three months was too tight schedule. The original idea was to design all three games before the start of the season, but it was soon clear that if we wanted players to contribute and decide what their characters do between the games, we can’t really design beyond the first game that much.

    We also somewhat failed at communicating what is useful and actionable input regarding character’s actions and plans between the games. Yet, especially in the second game where we had the most input from the players, we ended up putting up too much content in the game and in result too little time for free play was left.

    Among lessons learned are also how it is nearly impossible to arrange “coincidences” in street larp with any degree of certainty, how violence tends to escalate to rather extreme despite all efforts to the contrary, and how having both players and supporting cast can backfire when utilizing team spirit enhancing techniques.

    Now that season one is finished, we are left with the option to stop here or to continue in one way or another. All the main storylines are finished, so whatever season two will be about, it will be something new and different.

    The painter heard about her patron’s syphilis (Play,Tuomas Puikkonen).

    Tonnin stiflat: Season One

    Credits: Niina Niskanen (setting, background materials, characters, storylines, drama and interaction design, workshops, props), Simo Järvelä (characters, storylines, drama and interaction design, game mechanics, workshops, props), Tuomas Puikkonen (photography)
    Date: 16 August, 11 October & 22 November, 2014
    Location: Helsinki, Finland
    Length: 8-9 hours each
    Players: 16 players, and 40 supporting cast
    Budget: €2,500
    Participation Fee: €50 per game
    Game Mechanics: Supporting cast, meta instructions, preplanned scenes, workshops
    Website: http://tonninstiflatlarp.wordpress.com/


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.

    Cover photo: Police officer Mujunen pays for her mistake (Play, Tuomas Puikkonen). Other photos by Tuomas Puikkonen.

  • The Golden Cobra Challenge: Amateur-Friendly Pervasive Freeform Design

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    The Golden Cobra Challenge: Amateur-Friendly Pervasive Freeform Design

    By

    Evan Torner

    I. The Birth of the Golden Snake

    Once upon a time – actually, at GenCon 2014 in Indianapolis, USA – several of us discovered a design problem for live freeform games. For the last five years, the independent role-playing game scene here in North America has run an expanding series of crowdsourced events under the banner of Games on Demand. Players show up shortly before the convention slot, choose an available game from a menu, and then sit down with the event facilitator to play. This year, we introduced Larps on Demand, a branch of Games on Demand with its own room at Origins and GenCon, and that is where we encountered our problem.

    The problem is as follows: GenCon and Origins are both massive conventions full of interesting things and people to see. As such, few attendees want to make intensive four-hour time commitments in this context, and thus we watched as the two-hour Larps on Demand events filled up, while the four-hour events did not and were cancelled. In response, facilitators began to split their four-hour events in two, and running larps in public spaces to attract visibility.

    In our post-GenCon debrief, we decided that established live freeform games that lasted two hours such as J. Tuomas Harviainen’s The Tribunal required too many players, whereas a flexible game like Håken Lid and Ole Peder Giæver’s The Hirelings required too much time, and Lizzie Stark’s The Curse required intimate space that was at a premium in a large convention setting. What were we to do?

    Thus the Golden Cobra Challenge for October 2014 was born. We would solve this live freeform problem by considering it as a set of design constraints in itself. Scrappy pervasive freeforms were what we needed. Therefore, the game submissions had to:

    • Be playable from start to finish in two hours or less, facilitated by people who were not the designer him/herself.
    • Be playable by a variable but small number of participants, ideally a wide range like 2–8.
    • Be playable in a public space, like an open lounge in a busy hallway.
    • Optional: Use the ingredients Chord, Light, Solution, Bear and Minute.

    We advertised it as a “friendly contest open to anyone interested in writing and playing freeform games,” and even provided a much-utilized mentor program for freeform designers who wanted to bounce their ideas off a partner. We would award prizes in categories corresponding with our design needs: Most Convention- Ready, Most Appealing to Newcomers, Cleverest Design, and Game We’re Most Eager to Play. That being said, the prize for each category was that the game would be run at least once at Metatopia in November 2014.

    II. The Baddest-Ass Snakes in the Jungle

    What came of it? Over 50 freeform submissions poured in from around the world, addressing the design constraints with verve and creativity. Designers and theorists once again debated definitions of “freeform”, while others saw fit to troll the contest with unmarked submissions (e.g. Vampire Death Party by A. Nohn Knee-Mus). As the judges volunteering our time, we could only scramble to keep up with the breadth of entries submitted by experienced and novice designers alike. In fact, the contest itself served as a sort of “permission and validation engine” for people who did not consider themselves designers – even for those beset with imposter syndrome – to create live freeforms.

    New designers were most welcome. As Wendy Gorman, co-designer (with David Hertz and Heather Silsbee) of Still Life, commented:

    I was shocked and delighted [by winning a Golden Cobra], and could not have been more pleased to see something of mine played by people who are well respected in the field of game design, especially since I am not a game designer, and have never considered that I could become one.

    Two hours, a public space, and a flexible player number meant that a short set of easy-to-communicate rules proved the best design strategy. Because few veteran designers had much experience in addressing the constraints, the playing field proved more level than in other RPG design contests. After all, we preferred to cultivate a broad community that would produce more games, rather than promoting exclusivity and competition among creators. Mentoring during the contest and rewarding the winning designs with actual play appeared the best ways to nurture such a community of play.

    The hard-selected winners of the contest came from a pool of the weird, wacky and dramatic. Some entries in this pool included Active Shooter by Tim Hutchings, a serious freeform dealing with the school shooter phenomenon; Snow by Agata Lubańska, about an explosive family situation in a snowed-in car; Keymaster by J Li, a ritual of creating fictional identities; and If I Were President by James Stuart, which enacts a surreal presidential debate in the far future. Contest winners often adhered closest to the given constraints. Still Life, a game about relationships between rocks, positions players as inanimate objects being moved around by elemental forces in a public space.

    Group Date by Sara Williamson embraces chaos, with the same date between two people being played out simultaneously by multiple groups. Glitch Iteration by Jackson Tegu explores fragmented computer memory and has players directly experience their surroundings as unstable simulations. Finally, Unheroes by Joanna Piancastelli deals with a group of superheroes who have altered reality to cover up a terrible mistake and must now make a critical decision. Many of the games would perform well in busy GenCon hallways in Indianapolis, as they did in the Metatopia hall.

    III. The Golden Cobra Hand Signal

    Live freeform in the United States has a history of being behind closed doors and opaque for newcomers. The Golden Cobra Challenge sought to amend that culture and, at the very least, create a stable of new games to try out at Games on Demand in GenCon 2015 and other conventions. But what it also produced – besides innovative new sets of rules and role-playing scenarios – was a quasi-new social phenomenon: role-players out in public playing games designed for public interference. Emerging from Metatopia, the Golden Cobra Hand Signal – putting one’s elbow in one’s hand and forming a snake face with the other hand – lets others know that, while you may be out in a park or hallway, you are actually also in the middle of playing a game and a role.

    Games like Still Life encourage outsiders to affect and interact with these players, but the outside world may still not necessarily understand what they are doing. As these drop-in-friendly live freeforms spread and mutate, we hope to see more of these arcane gestures coming to a convention near you.


    This article was initially published in The Knudepunkt 2015 Companion Book which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.

  • Ticket to Atlantis – Fear, Love, Death, Life…

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    Ticket to Atlantis – Fear, Love, Death, Life…

    By

    Nadezhda Vechorek

    Atlantis is a small town in Washington, USA. It’s surrounded by woods, has no phone line, and the mail service works poorly. The only way to come there is by the railway, and the train is the only way to leave. The ticket office is closed, and the quizzical Conductor (somewhat resembling O. G. Grant) won’t let you on the train without a golden ticket. Sometimes a swirling mist comes from the forest, people not hasty enough to hide in their homes and caught by the mist on the streets get ill, or die. But that is not a problem – as everybody who comes to Atlantis is already dead.

    Characters of our larp didn’t notice their death, and all of them decided to board a train to Atlantis for some reason. Some were escaping something, others were looking for a place to start a new life. Some were just traveling without a particular destination. They thought they got a shiny golden ticket to Atlantis in the moment when they actually died. We asked players to fabulate how their characters got their tickets. Their choices varied from trivial; “bought at the ticket office” to strange; “found in a dead man’s belongings” or unlikely; “someone forgot it on a cafe table”. We wrote how the character really died based on these stories. For example, the man who thought he had won the ticket playing poker was actually shot by the loser in a poker game.

    Our players didn’t know that their characters actually died in “reality”. Their characters thought they just moved to a new place, having decided to change something in their life. Having come to Atlantis at the beginning of the larp, they did what any of us would do if we were them – looked for accommodation and jobs, got settled, talked, danced, drank…

    Participants still had to find out that their characters were already dead – either by dying in-game, or after the game from game masters.

    Inspiration

    Ticket to Atlantis was a synergy of music, electronics, Stephen King’s despairing nostalgia about the lost 60’s and the question of what is death and what lies beyond.

    Using music as a meta-technique, as a building block of a larp in one way or another, has been a trend in Russian larps for the last five years.

    Our design team gathered three years ago to create a fully music-based larp House where the world sounds… (2012) based on a Russian bestseller novel House where… (2009) by Mariam Petrosyan. We were so fascinated with how our “musical engine” worked, that we decided to definitely do something more with it.

    Emotional reaction (Play, Julia Tishkova).In House portable MP3 players were used, and the participants had to switch their musical tracks manually, according to specific rules. But in the following year Moscow electronics-for-larp engineers from Ostranna CG made a step forward, so for Ticket to Atlantis we were able to use custom made electronic devices that could switch music tracks automatically, depending on where the player was and what other players were around.

    We read Hearts in Atlantis and are fond of this book. Music is extremely important for its characters, for the atmosphere, and for the book as a whole. Having our experience in creating and participating in music-based larps the idea of making Atlantis into a larp was pretty obvious.

    In the team, we are all in our 20’s or 30’s. We heard about the 60’s, Stephen King’s Atlantis, we read about the epoch, we watched movies, we felt that anguish at the 60’s King writes about, and we regret we weren’t there. We are afraid of the 60’s because we know what they did to people.

    Inspirational pieces: Stephen King’s Hearts inAtlantis (mostly second half), Interstate 60 (2002), Twin Peaks (1990), Across the Universe (2007), Hair (1979), Platoon (1986)

    Hearts in Atlantis is not about the 60’s, it’s about people who survived the 60’s, and are still somehow connected to them. And so was our larp.

    Ultimately, we wanted to talk about death. Death is a thing that’s frightening yet marvelous; marvelously frightening. One is afraid to die, and to deal with that fear, to live with that fear, one has to talk about it. That was our idea. But such talk is not easy, and not many people are ready for this talk right away. So we decided to talk about death without naming it. We decided to ask some questions and find some answers before saying what we were talking about out loud.

    Afterdeath

    We wanted the players to find out what was going on during the larp. It was possible when they died – from a knife, or bullet, sudden illness or a touch of mist. So in-game death was the major instrument here.

    Those who died went out-of-character to a special designated place just outside the playground. What they found there was a room with walls covered with 1970 newspapers from all corners of the USA, with obituaries in them of all the characters with circumstances of their death; photos and short biographical accounts. In that moment they understood at least that what just happened was definitely not death in the usual sense.

    After taking one’s time in the newspaper room, overwhelmed players went to another room representing a train car, and an NPC representing a random, semi-real fellow passenger, almost an inner voice, talked to them for some time while the wheels rattled, helping to sort out what happened and to embrace the new state of mind.

    In most cases it wasn’t a fully in-game talk, but rather a conversation of two people (each of them just slightly covered by their roles) about life and death.

    We tried to make it as comfortable for players as possible and used this communication, besides other, to find out if the player wanted to play on. And to play on was not so easy – as the train was heading back to Atlantis, and player stepped off the train on the same station, in the same role, with all the character’s memory intact.

    The only thing that changed was character’s name, confusing and arousing suspicions in fellow citizens. Special Dark Secret rules prevented the returning characters from discussing the fact that everybody in town were already dead, and forcing them to deny the idea that they had been in the town before and not just recently arrived by train.

    We never considered Atlantis as Hell, or Heaven, or Purgatory, and avoided religious rhetoric altogether. We thought of it as of a place where some people went after they died, just because that was the place they needed to go to sort out what they really needed to sort out, but hadn’t had a chance to while living.

    We refused to judge characters in any manner on purpose. According to our idea, Atlantis consisted of common beliefs of people who came there. They thought it was normal for money to exist and to be dollars – and hence there were dollars.

    When death comes close (Play, Julia Tishkova).They wanted to have a lot of money – and hence the salary for one hour’s work was a thousand dollars. They had subconscious fears – and hence there was the fearful mist (represented by NPCs in silver gowns and masks, bearing smoke flares).

    They had an inner demand for order and the habit of having a job – and hence the town had a Selective Service System office, paying good money for sorting the forms of draftees (with their name, age, color, family, children, job, education etc.) to decide who would go to Vietnam and who would stay in the rear. Grave ethical disputes sometimes arose over these essentially faceless papers.

    We tried hard to create the fundamentals; the core of each player’s game, not of some events but of their character, and insisted on players creating characters as elaborate and interesting as possible. Besides other issues we asked players to take note of Important People who changed their character’s life in the past or just sunk deep in their minds, and of an Important Item that once meant a lot to a character (like a handgun that misfired at a suicide attempt), but were lost long ago.

    For each character we looked for similarities, “reflections” of their important people in other characters and used the “music engine” to suggest feelings similar to those they had had towards their Important People to occur when they met the corresponding characters.

    One could leave Atlantis – by finding the right person who could give them a ticket to a departing train and saying the right words to him – essentially stating that one had had enough of this town and was ready to move on. The train would take them away – ending the larp for the player and taking the character… who knows where, but definitely to some place where they needed to be.

    The Music Engine

    In larps designed using a technique that we call “the music engine” music mostly doesn’t exist for the character. It serves like a personal soundtrack to the player’s experience, and suggests character’s emotional state.

    While creating the characters, players sent us a number of musical tracks, and specified for each track what emotions this music evoked in them. Or, in other words, what music should play when the character was in that particular emotional state.

    We used such emotions as happiness, sadness, joy, fear, interest, anticipation, despair and so on. For Ticket to Atlantis, we created a list of 80 emotions that thus could be provided with special soundtracks, and the number of music tracks players sent us varied from 50 (when a participant used just one track for some of the emotions) to 500 (multiple tracks for each supported emotion).

    The Armlet (Play, Julia Tishkova).All the player’s music and information on emotions was put into an electronic device we call Armlet, that players wore on their wrist. This device played music like a portable MP3 player into the participant’s ears via earphones so a player had a continuous soundtrack for their larp.

    The earphones had to be picked and adjusted carefully beforehand so that player’s ears could endure many hours of continuous use and players could listen to the music and perceive the surrounding sounds in the same time.

    Armlet is an STM32-micro controller (the same kind that is used in modern “smart watches”) based device with a screen, some buttons, digital audio playback chip, standard earphones jack and digital radio chip for data exchange in range of up to 30 meters. Other devices of similar design but simpler, with no screen, etc. (we call them Beacons) were placed around the playground marking specific in-game locations.

    All the devices were constantly exchanging data packets, and thus each player’s Armlet knew where the player was (by receiving data packets from Beacons) and what other players were around (by receiving data packets from other Armlets), and who was closer (judging by radio signal strength). Using this information and information on emotion-to-music relations specified by the player, Armlet chose what music to play. Reacting on characters that were reflections of one’s Important People was the most notable case.

    The critical point that makes this approach completely different from every other way the music is used in Russian larps is:

    Organizers didn’t choose music for the larp and didn’t have to rely on if it would trigger the desirable emotions in the players. Instead, the music is chosen by players for themselves according to their own musical taste and emotional reactions. The electronic device maps the emotions (specified by organizers for different situations) to the particular player’s music, thus creating for players their own, special, unique soundtrack that pulls exactly the right strings in the right moments.

    In some situations instead of music a player could hear a voice describing their feelings or giving them imperative instructions. It was used for drug effects and in case of a character’s in-game death. Drugs were represented by tiny electronic “pills” connected to Armlet, and lack of a pill in case of addiction caused continuous playing of a special addiction track that forced out all other music for hours, until a new pill was obtained.

    The player’s ability to influence the device directly was very limited and rarely needed, thus most of the time player could just listen to the music. A player could only specify (using Armlet keypad) a limited number of intentions (like going to kill someone), and Armlet reacted, for example, waiting for some time (representing the character psyching herself) and then playing a special music track (that a player specifically chose for killing), and while the music was playing the character could actually kill – hence the combat rules.

    Passing one of the earphones to another player was treated as empathy, a desire to share one’s feelings with another person. However, different people naturally feel different emotions while listening to the same music. This pretty well represented the chasm of human misunderstanding. Sex was represented by taking some of the clothes off and dancing while sharing earphones and listening to one of the players’ special sex music.

    Most other rules of the larp (like rules for representing brawls) was also based on some special tracks that could be played by Armlet at some particular time or as a result of player’s interaction with Armlet.

    The Forest

    Atlantis is surrounded by woods and we made the forest a mystical place, accessible at night only, much similar to the Black/ White Lodge in Twin Peaks. There were gazebos there, depicting typical locations in a typical American expression of that epoch – boy scout tent, movie theatre, perfect housewife’s living room, Vietnam bush trench and so on.

    Protest, so familiar (Play, Julia Tishkova).In those places there were Important Items of the characters. Having another character’s Important Item could give you enormous (and definitely not kind) power over that character, but you could bring only one object from the woods so you had to choose whether to take your own item or someone else’s.

    The woods had a special soundtrack, and gazebos were connected by trails made of LEDs (essentially Beacons) that reacted to Armlet presence by lighting up before a character, and going off behind them, and one only could walk from one LED to another. Different trails reacted to different characters, so each character had to find their own way in the woods.

    Perspectives

    Though created in Russia with little to no awareness about Nordic larps, the game seems to follow the Nordic tradition pretty closely. It lasted without interruption for 38 hours, and it used some meta-techniques like music as an instrument for influencing player to affect characters. Of course, Armlets and earphones didn’t exist in-game, a train car was symbolically represented by a room with properly arranged chairs, and NPCs in gray were only representations of swirls of mist, but mostly what you saw in the game was what your character saw. Moreover the larp was psychologically challenging and made participants face some existential issues.

    It was our second larp using the Music Engine. In general, it used the same paradigm as our House where the World Sounds… (2012) though the technique was almost fully automated, creating a personal context-based soundtrack for each player, reducing player’s interference to minimum.

    Margaret Rose, the newly elected mayor (Play, Julia Tishkova).There have been something like 5 – 10 music-based larps in Russia, the trend appeared around the beginning of 2010’s, though games besides the two mentioned above used completely different approaches to using music.

    Another important game that must be mentioned here is Saint Summer (Moscow region, June 2014). Based on Hair, Jesus Christ Superstar, Across the Universe and The Wall and created by our friends completely independently of Ticket to Atlantis, that rock-musical larp explored the 60’s at their peak – with sex, drugs, rock’n’roll and Vietnam war.

    From a musical point of view, it was a complete opposite to Ticket to Atlantis – it used a stage, loudspeakers and hit music to set the pitch and drive the action of the whole game from one extreme to another. Set a few years before Ticket to Atlantis and held three months before, it served as a prequel for a number of players who participated in both projects, some of them playing the same characters.

    Reactions

    We were doing what we called “a kind larp about the good”, though it was neither simple to do nor easy to play. It appeared to be a larp about realizing some simple yet important things. One of our players, talking to an NPC on a “train” after his character died, said that besides his own death, he was much more disappointed with the fact that all other the nice and wonderful people he met in Atlantis were in fact dead.

    The fact that they were dead made them less valuable to him. Well, we tried to convey the idea that death is a choice. Some people die by their own choice long before their actual death, and some continue living even after they die. Our characters had no real cause to consider themselves dead except the fact itself, presented to them in the way of obituary. They could live on, the only thing they needed was the courage to live on. Death has no power over those not afraid to live.

    We should say that in the end, after a larp that definitely was not easy; even really difficult, after some reconciliation with themselves, most players came to feel what they called “warm aftertaste”. And we felt a lot of joy after reading reports about the larp settling down in heads and hearts, people giving up pain and struggle and moving on with joy. It was very warming to hear something like “It wasn’t a larp about death. It was a game about life and about the absence of death”. We are very thankful to our players for saying that and helping us to believe it’s true. We end with some quotes from reports:

    Atlantis was a larp about life that looks like death to those who gave way to fear. I don’t know if I overcame my fear. But I know that this larp made me touch the most frightful fear in my life, fear that pursues me all my life.

    Oleg ‘Luterian’ Lutin, player

    During the larp I faced all my hidden fears: the fear of loneliness, the fear of losing the sense of living, loosing the anchor, losing my place in the world. Sometimes this fear raised up to panic, when the Mist appeared and my head was full of Toccata and Fugue in D minor that scared me in my childhood. When my character was killed in the middle of the larp I suffered from the character’s death much less than from my inner player’s fears.

    Olga ‘Vorobeyka’ Vorobyeva, player

    For me it was a larp of life and one’s place in it. It was about you really can put off the question of whether you should get back to depressing past or start something new, over and over again. Or you can admit there’s no longer you for that past and change your life. Hopefully, to the better.

    Alexander ‘Eden’ Raev

    For me it was a larp, like someone said, about death that becomes life when you feel love. It was a larp about love and loved ones. I recalled why it is so important to love, why is it pleasing and what does it mean to have someone important by your side. And I recalled that there’s no death.

    Sergey ‘Opalennyj’ Belov

    Heavenly shades of night are falling (Play, Julia Tishkova).

    Ticket to Atlantis

    Credits: Nadezhda Vechorek, Vasily “Jolaf” Zakharov, Evgeniya “Nel” Patarakina, Philipp “Phil” Kozin, Dmitry “Kudryavyj” Roldugin, Anastasiya “Suliven” Dobrovolskaya. Electronics development, Ostranna Creative Group: Gennady “Kreyl” Kruglov, Roman “Jam” Leonov
    Date: September 11-14, 2014
    Location: Rented summer houses near Moscow, Russia
    Length: 38 hours
    Players: 70
    Budget: ~€6,000
    Participation Fee: €85
    Website: http://atlantis1970.livejournal.com/271.html


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.

    Cover photo: Welcome to Atlantis. (Play, Julia Tishkova). Other photos by Julia Tishkova.

  • Baltic Warriors Tallinn

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    Baltic Warriors Tallinn

    By

    Juhana Pettersson

    For the venue, we had the museum ship Suur Tõll. Photo by Juhana Pettersson.I work as a larp producer in the Baltic Warriors project, and first game of our summer season was played last Saturday in Tallinn. It’s quite intimidating to go another country to do a game there. I had never even played in an Estonian larp, but it seemed to go well.

    This summer, we’re doing a series of seven Baltic Warriors games, each in a different country. In each game, the subject is eutrophication and other environmental disasters afflicting the Baltic Sea. The zombies are there to remind us that while we talk, the situation is steadily getting worse.

    One of the techniques we used was the media wall, in which characters can make news headlines. Photo by Juhana Pettersson.We had the distinct advantage of having a really cool venue, the ice breaker Suur Tõll, now a museum. It was almost too spectacular: It was easy to imagine a much bigger, much longer game taking place there.

    The larp, like all Baltic Warriors games, was divided into two parts: Politics and zombie action. During the political part, characters come together to talk about a given issue that’s being voted upon in the parliament.
    After the debate has gone for a few hours, the zombies attack. In this case, two viking zombies shambled forth from the hold of the ship, attacking the living. The museum was open to normal visitors during this time, and it was fun to see how they reacted to the screaming and gurgling that was going on.

    Not even the Bible helps against newly zombified people. Photo by Juhana Pettersson.After this, we have Baltic Warriors games in St Petersburg, Gdansk, Kiel, Copenhagen, Stockholm and Helsinki. It will be fun to see how they change depending on the players, the local issues, the venue, and other matters.


    Cover photo: The Estonian producer of Baltic Warriors, Aapo Reitask, as a viking zombie. Ingame-photo by Juhana Pettersson.

  • Skoro Rassvet – Vodka, Tears and Dostoyevsky

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    Skoro Rassvet – Vodka, Tears and Dostoyevsky

    By

    Tomáš Hampejs

    Man will vanquish by his will and reason over the nature. He will understand that he is mortal that he has now hope for resurrection and he will accept death and he will accept it with satisfaction. He will be as God and eve- rything will be allowed to him and as soon as man becomes God any law will cease to apply. Everything will be allowed!

    Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

    Breaking Dawn at a Moscow Villa

    Skoro Rassvet was a Czech larp for fifteen people using topics from the history and literature of 19th century Russia. The design project strived to create an atmospheric “all inclusive” repeatable larp (players get the game in a ready-to-run packaged weekend experience) with seven hours of emotionally and intellectually intense immersive gameplay.

    The game was full of personal existential dramas on the background of social and cultural changes of the era. The players enacted detailed and mutually entangled characters from the Russian aristocracy during a small household celebration in the year 1855, shortly after the Crimean War. The dramatic arcs of the individual roles were designed as tense opportunities for meaningful personal transformations mirroring the global dimensions of both historical and cultural clashes of modernity with tradition.

    To an outside observer, it may seem that the game was aiming at material and cultural authenticity. Nevertheless, it was more of a gently molded theatrical illusion and a carefully constructed interactive abstraction from Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy books and Chekhov plays.

    The historical background was utilized as a meaningful reference frame for the plots and material culture of the game, where the chosen themes, sub-stories and characters from the books were reconstructed into new, yet still recognizable forms that were the real moving forces behind the dramatic animation.

    To Create a Cultural Experience of the “Other”

    The main design challenge was to create a both sensual and reflective experience of the “cultural other” in the scaffolding of an interpersonal drama larp. The atmospherical elements of the game; like costumes, cuisine of the period, combat pistols, glasses of vodka and verbally abundant toasts, also had their substantive place in the game’s interactions mechanics.

    Fyodor Ivanovic Gorodskoy, his son Anatol and the women of their lives - Nina, Olga and Jekaterina. (Play, Martin Buchtík)They were designed as extra-diegetically minimalist, following the Nordic larp tradition, which stresses the overlaps of the abilities of the characters and players. The aim was to connect each background element of the setting with an opportunity to act. Cultural references weren’t just a static frame.

    The game provided the frame for living in a Russian novel through the scripted plots (based mainly on mutual character conflicts). But they were meant to feel more like a frame of possibilities to play from personal interpretation of the game topics, than at set of instructions.

    Different game layers were meant to create synergic effects able to elicit and maintain the atmospheric and effective bodies of the story so the players could seamlessly concentrate on the creation and perception of the individual game experience for themselves and each other.

    The managing of the game development used some external stimuli and a basic frame of scripted events, but the main dramatic action was facilitated by players themselves; by their own mutual mediation of conflicts, resolutions or kind-hearted agreements and sharing of thoughts.

    The enactment of a dramatic game, ie. the timing, was in the player‘s hands. The freedom of play was ensured by five organizers, playing silent servants (muzhiks), who managed the household (mainly taking care of the food and drinks) and who could, through this diegetic presence, maintain an indirect influence on the game itself and perceive its heartbeat.

    Teaching to Believe in God, Czar and Russia

    For this almost self-managed gameplay, the background and how-to-play workshops were a crucial part of the larp event. They took more time then the game itself and went through small interactive lectures to theatrical enactment of pregame scenes.

    The players were encouraged to play the game on the borders of immersive (from feeling and experience) and dramatic (for the visible dramatic gesture) role-playing. Rassvet was in its core an extended conversational chamber larp, but the workshops enabled and taught players to live the small everyday moments as the dramatic ones, so they were able to enjoy the game in the “silent” natural pauses of their own drama cycles.

    The content of the workshops led the players through brief historical facts, where the focus was more on the mentality and lifestyle rather than political history. The triad of values – God, Czar and Russia were amplified through the workshops so that the player could feel comfortable with their character‘s position on these values and in the best scenario, could portray their own philosophical life reflections in the language of the game.

    An interesting level of the game and one of the design challenges was creating gameplay of the everydayness of the Russian Orthodoxy religion and private family life.

    There was no direct religious authority and we wanted players to breathe in the religious thinking and behavior, to feel the Dostoyevsky stress of religion as a moral structure, but did not want the religious themes to dominate the game.

    Religion was then designed mainly as a cultural background source, but an entangled source – the opportunity and constraint to act at the same time. At the end it definitely was a part of many in-game conversations, where the religious notions served as tools for the social world structure and borders exploration through the contrasts of eternal and temporal orders of reality. The players had to consume a lot of background information, but to the surprise of organizers, the explicit feedback just for these parts of the experience was generally very positive.

    Beyond Talking – Living in the Book Itself

    Rassvet was not a static club of talking intellectuals, the philosophical content was actually more enacted by the gameplay itself than in abstract words due to its theatrical origins. The universal (or at least in the Eurocentric sense universal) values and entanglements of human life hanging in the larger net of specific strong sociocultural constraints were “materially present” in the air.

    "I don't understand, Sasha. You can't be serious about marrying her?!" (Play, Martin Buchtík)The collective shared representations, partly existing in the players‘ minds and partly in the organic, the enacted instance of social order constructed a reference frame in which small gestures and accidentally overheard words could be highly meaningful. This was one of the most interesting emergent effects of the game; the players often created their own encounters transcending seamlessly the initial design of character relations and drama opportunities.

    It was usually not by their own dramatic reflection and action, but through the intuitions of immersive feeling of the enacted role. From this moment and on, there was a stable layer of “living” the game content instead of just “playing”. In almost every game, there were players who reported strong after-effect experiences. Individual player experiences of course significantly differed based on their own immersive capacities and habits, but the main effect was not only a personal emotional experience. The players felt that they were a part of an organic story, and the game immersion got to the collective level.

    For all this – huge credit belongs to the literary sources of Russian classics, which are truly masterpieces of combining everyday problems with the universal dimensions of human life. As Sigmund Freud said, Dostoyevsky was without doubt one of the greatest psychologists of the 19th century, and this praise could probably be extended to many other authors of that time and space. To play the game, it was not necessary to have a personal reading experience with Russian 19th century novels, but the players who had were able to achieve wonders with seamlessly taking the fiction beyond any explicit game design. As one of them said:

    … it was like living in the book itself

    The characters of the game were written with detailed interpersonal relations, their selves were not given by their ego description, but were described as dramatic transactions with other characters and shared life events. The game core event contained an encounter of three interconnected families, where many characters shared life forming histories. Nevertheless, the game design stressed brief dramatic sketches more than rich written novel-style personal history.

    Role descriptions briefly portrayed what the character had done and how, but usually not exactly why – this was open to the player‘s interpretation. To familiarize the player with the mood and fate of a character, they were also framed emotionally by specific music. During the game no mood enhancing extra-diegetic instruments were used, but prior to the game and at the finale Russian folk music was used as atmospheric background. Many players were able to connect their game experience with the music, and it helped them to position the whole larp deeper into the depicted cultural context.

    Technique – Synergic Combination of the Known

    To balance the appraisal of the game and its principles, it should be said that the game design itself was an organic process and even after almost 10 runs, it is not easy to assess whether the game was intended like that from the beginning and how it just happened that way during the year and half of the creation process. Behind the larp was a diverse team of six people, who joined their forces just for this project.

    Many layers and details are a product of distributed process of co-creation – writing Skoro Rassvet was a special and spontaneous experience itself. From its beginnings, the project aimed at the form innovation – it wanted to explore the medium format game, which is strongly based on real cultural background. It wanted to translate the cultural experience of the specific “other” and prepare a game, which utilizes larp fun as a means for transformative learning experience.

    That was successful, but moreover, something new was discovered in the process. The treasure of larp innovation does not lie in one new technique, but in a precise synergic combination of the known.

    Rassvet has been praised by its players exactly for that – for soft and many interconnected layers of content, which enable slow but deep and gradual immersive journey to the story-scape where, in the roots, is the life itself.

    "My new novel is very special. It is not about people, Yelena Pavlovna! People are just characters, it is about life itself!" (Play, Martin Buchtík)

    Skoro Rassvet

    Credits: Martin Buchtík, Sarah Komasová, Petr Platil, Markéta Haladová, Tomáš Hampejs, Jaromír Vybíhal
    Location: Hunting villa Vacíkov, Czech Republic
    Length: 12h worskhops, 7h game
    Players: 15 players (7 men, 8 women), 5 organizers per run (7 runs in total)
    Budget: €700 (for each run)
    Participation Fee: €50
    Game Mechanics: Dramatic/immersive play, play to lose, 360° aspiration, pre-written characters
    Website: http://rassvet.cz/


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.

    Cover photo: The family of Derevyanskiy in front of their family villa. (Play, Martin Buchtík). Other photos by Martin Buchtík.

  • Salon Moravia – Cabaret for Women Only

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    Salon Moravia – Cabaret for Women Only

    By

    Rädim Bondy

    "A new age..." (Play, Jiří Dukát)

    The door shut and he was gone. At that moment, Evžénie forgot his rank. But she would never forget his short moustache waving over her, how the lips under it were feverishly mumbling something in that repulsive language. How he snorted when he humped. She slid down to the floor. Her back against the wall, she lighted a cigarette and again read the letter with a brief and clear instruction. She spilled the powder from the little vial to the General’s glass. Was he the same man with whom she slept that night? Evžénie did not know that. Everything blurred together, she saw everything through a fog…

    Salon Moravia was the first larp in Czechia organised for women only. A total of 40 players attended, and according to their ratings on the Czech and Slovak larp database, it was the best chamber larp in the Czechia and Slovakia.

    It was a scripted narrative dramatic game set during World War II. The players could experience the ambiance of an exclusive brothel, the difficult role of women, and the burden of that historic era. Each player could influence the story by a series of decisions.

    "For your sweet memories..." (Play, Michal Kára)Salon Moravia had a detective plot which was the primary focus in the first two runs, but we gradually de-emphasized it. Starting from the third run, we included more political, national and social plots. We also emphasized the terror of inhumane actions. The conflicts among the players characters and between the characters and NPCs were expanded, concentrated and more strongly intertwined wherever player feedback showed us any weak spots.

    In six (seven in case of the last two runs) approximately one-hour-long chapters, we followed the characters through six years of the duration of World War II in Czechoslovakia, and we gradually transformed the mood in the brothel using inputs (from NPCs and letters to characters).

    We started out with an impression of luxury, carelessness and light flirting mood of the 1930’s and gradually tightened the mood by the gradual disappearance of Jewish and Czech characters and the appearance of German soldiers during the occupation, and by messages from the characters’ relatives about events in the country.

    The diversity of Salon Moravia‘s employees reflected the diversity of the inhabitants of the Czechoslovak Republic at that time, including their nationalities (Czech, German, Slovak, Jewish), education (from illiterate to higher education and even business experience), social position (poor village girls as well as ladies originating from upstanding urban families), and even political ideas (from complete disinterest to excitement for the ideas of national socialism or communism).

    "Peace in our time" (Play, Jiří Dukát)

    I really thought that their killing of one of us would be the worst that could happen… And then I saw another girl on the verge of collapsing to the ground… her face… I came to her and asked what was wrong. She handed me the letter and the attached yellow Jewish star. My mouth went dry. No. Not again. I cannot bear to lose another girl. I cannot let it happen. I quickly wiped her tears, took the letter, and told her: “Come with me. It won’t happen again. We won’t hear another shot from behind a closed door spelling death. This time, it will be different.

    Before the Game

    "Dear sister, I must go and protect the right of everyone to live in freedom. I hope you understand." (Play, Jiří Dukát)The format was inspired by the lack of similar games around us and the apparent shallowness of female characters in various games we had played. We wanted to challenge ourselves to create believable, interesting and strong female characters.

    We assigned the prepared roles according to a questionnaire wherein the players marked preferred types of experience, their comfort limits concerning intimacy and violence. They also prioritised preferred characters, marked interest in key game topics (romantics, violence, rape, betrayal, collaboration, death). According to feedback it would be preferable to update the comfort limits just before the game.

    After selecting our players we would actively continue to work with them online. We had a dedicated Facebook group for each run and in the months and weeks before the game we would discuss any issues concerning the game itself, their clothing (which they had to arrange themselves), make-up, hair styling, etc. A useful technique for verifying the players’ engagedness in the pre-game online activities was asking them to “like” it to confirm that they had read and acknowledged it.

    In the entire game we strived to create a 360° illusion of authenticity, but we did not maintain historic accuracy; our aim was only to represent the ambiance of the era. We therefore focused on selecting the right location and supplied a lot of material to the game: paper money, uniforms, handwritten letters, photos, and various other items. In all possible extent we also modified the locations to minimise modern features (although we were obviously limited to reversible changes).

    We decided not to use Ars Amandi or any other representation of eroticism to keep our game as technique-less as possible.

    Our solution was simple and relied on our NPC players’ responsibility. As a player would approach her intimacy limit, she could use the safe word “decadence” (selected so that it would not disturb the game). One could also encourage her partner to be more courageous using another key word. We used a similar technique for alcohol – when ordering a drink the players could order “as usual” to get water. This technique was inspired by the Skoro Rassvet larp.

    "Rose-tinted glasses?" (Play, Jiří Dukát)After the second run we also modified and expanded most characters focusing on their political and nationalist ideas. Before each run we expanded the NPC team from the original six to the final thirteen people who represented more than twenty characters. We also added a new expendable player character to further tighten the mood in the game by killing her off after about a third of the game. This deeply impacted the other players as this “cuckoo” player would register, engage in pre-game activities and played the first third as one them.

    The players much appreciated our selection and management of the NPC players. We always chose people people we knew personally to be responsible, which was necessary to make sure that no NPC would surpass any player’s comfort level. Most of them were even willing to shave mid-game to better separate the different NPCs they portrayed.

    We designed the conclusion by escalating all plots before the arrival of looting revolutionary militia and Soviet soldiers who punished virtually the entire staff of the brothel for collaboration with the Germans. This punishment was deliberately inadequate and unfair to drive forward the point of injustice and randomness of certain historic events. The game ended with us turning off the lights mid-scene, and one of us would read aloud the outros for all the player characters and major NPCs, reflecting the players’ choices.

    Tears… tears everywhere. How many girls did I have to console? How many trickles flowing down their cheeks did I have to wipe? I had to pretend everything was alright and that it would end soon… But it won’t. I realised that after that Kraut led me downstairs, humiliated me and took me roughly and violently. We are all collaborant whores. Nothing more, our pride, honour and conscience, everything gone.

    "My dear daughter..." (Play, Jiří Dukát)I see his face in front of me, feel his hands taking me and hear his voice talking to me. Does it make it any better that I did it for her so that she has enough money for her baby girl? I doubt it. I fall to the floor, pulling my hair with one hand and helplessly slapping the wall with the other. One of the girls appears. She pushed a glass in my hand and she said precisely what I always said.”It’s going to be alright.” Does she know that it never will?

    The post-game responses were generally very favourable, while providing us with useful feedback especially in the first two runs. We realised that people were expecting a more mature and terrifying game than we initially envisioned. Some of the players were also very creative and provided us with post-game stories from the characters’ perspective, initiated an after-party a few weeks later and even filmed video confessions. We would like to provide some space for the players’ own comments from the Czech and Slovak larp database.

    The game is very well thought-out. For the entire time I felt my decisions are my own, that I can choose and that nothing in the organisation manipulates me, and even so they could steer my story where they needed. As much as I can tell each player’s story was full and intensive, everyone was a main character with enough to do, and each experienced their own burdens.

    "Who could pay more?" (Play, Jiří Dukát)

    The NPCs were crucial for this, there were more of them than players, and most played several roles over time, which was expressed by very different costumes and roleplaying. Most conflicts in game therefore were not between the players, but occurred due to the need to respond to external inputs (speeches in the radio, letters and NPC plots) which nevertheless felt very natural.

    Katerina Midori, player

    Count Druck von Linke has just met the ladies. (Play, Michal Kovář)

    …I salute the organisers because in this topic I am quite sensitive to excessive tear-jerking and historic lapses, and I encountered none of that here. In contrast, most big topics in the game were presented in a very believable manner and not black-and-white, which I appreciated a lot. For me was tense, dramatic, well-escalated and full of strong emotions. I would like to give extra praise to the NPCs – the gentlemen were awesome and perfect…

    Mivka, player

    "Don't be shy!" (Play, Jiří Dukát)

    Before the first run I was a little worried about characters designed without prepared relations and clearly defined goals, but it was a pleasant surprise how such “incomplete” characters developed directly in-game under the pressure of external inputs. Each character has scenes prepared just for her which I really appreciated.

    Lujza, player

    "Good evening, sir" (Play, Michal Kára)


    Salon Moravia

    Credits: Radim Bondy, Veronika Bondyová, Jan Fiala, Blanka Hanzlová, Sära Komasová, Anežka Müller
    Date: November 17, 2012; February 02, 2013; November 16, 2013 and November 22, 2014
    Location: Brno, Czech Republic (and Slavkov u Brna for the last run)
    Length: 6 – 7 hours + one hour pre-game workshop
    Players: 10 players, 6-13 NPCs
    Budget: €1,000
    Participation Fee: €17 per player (average)
    Game Mechanics: Minimal, only safe words for intimity, violence and alcohol.
    Website: http://www.pojd.name/salon


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2014 which was edited by Charles Bo Nielsen & Claus Raasted, published by Rollespilsakademiet and released as part of documentation for the Knudepunkt 2015 conference.

    Cover photo: “If you don’t tell, take a good look in the mirror so you remember what you looked like.” (Play, Michal Kovář). Other photos by Michal Kovář, Jiří Dukát and Michal Kára.