Nordic Larp

Category: Techniques

  • Six Magickal Techniques

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    Six Magickal Techniques

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    Six magickal larp techniques were designed for “Walpurgis” (2018) and refined for its second run (2019). They were created to reinforce psychedelia, confusion and messing with dark undercurrents in a Psychedelic 70’s, Eurotrash surreal setting. Magickal techniques are specific and alternate ways to engage with oneself, with each other character, and with the environment in larp.

    The techniques were created by Juan Ignacio Ros and José Castillo Meseguer, working together as Somnia. They were intended to be a complete set: inclusive (for all magick went through them) and prescriptive (for they had to be followed if the character was performing magick and no magick was performed outside them). They were intended as approaches to follow and not definite “spells”, and similar outcomes could be achieved by many of them. They were all about how to do magick, how to be immersed while performing, and results were secondary.

    The techniques were also designed to enhance Somnia’s preferred style of seamless immersion and to avoid any blatant stepping out of the illusion to negotiate outcomes – play to flow. For that same reason, the techniques are autonomous and don’t require supervision, decisions or judgement from the larp organization. It was not an aim of the design to enable power fantasies, and we focused on psychological horror.

    The esoteric and occult make-up of the magic enacted by the characters through the techniques was seen a secondary concern, or a non-issue, but they enhanced the mood. These techniques benefit vastly if three principles are also followed:

    “There are no masters” – Even if characters think they are masters of the Occult, they are not, according to these techniques. There is no certain outcome for their performance and rituals.

    “You cannot be wrong” – While the actual performance could be compromised, characters are confident in their works – the same as in any movie with obvious silly rituals that are taken seriously nonetheless. As long as the participant put an effort delivering their “magick”, it was accepted and slight deviations are welcomed.

    “Outcomes flow along with the larp running course” – If a character wants to set up a specific situation or opportunity in advance, that is fine, but if the “magick” involve other participants’ characters, they are the ones who decide the intensity and persistence of the effects as they find them interesting. Attempts to perform them in a casual manner, to automatize or to exploit them can be seen as bad form and ignored, for these techniques are played to flow, to see what happens next, and not to abuse other participants’ goodwill.

    Lastly, a desired outcome could be irrelevant or going against the larp desired experience or the larp specific phase, flow or limits, so it is expected that participants restrain themselves if such is the case.

    Second Sight

    The Second Sight is seen as the foundation technique, for it is a requirement before performing the rest of them. It is an active technique to enhance the larp experience by engaging through the inner turmoil and phantoms of the portrayed character.

    The key issue is the conscious distortion of perception, and should always be done through the character’s mindset.

    A recipe for workshops follows:

    Stop for a moment, look inside and try to see what is unseen, the hidden meaning behind what is happening, a subtle level beyond the evident reality of what you see. Let any image, impression or idea manifest in your imagination and hold unto it. Take your insight as the truth or vision your character is perceiving, within the worldview of the larp, however irrational or outrageous it could be, and go with it, act upon it.

    The Second Sight is intended to be used as often as possible for inspiration, or to decide if what another character is saying or doing is true, or to look for hints or motivations for anything, but also as a preamble to any act of magick, to “measure“ and ”perceive” hidden forces.

    It is a way to generate content for the larp experience in an unilateral way.

    Comment: We designed the Second Sight as a “symbolic mode” to engage the larp in a different approach than regular perception allows. We often felt that the standard portrayal of magic in larp relies too often on props, special effects and external actions. The inner action and symbolic significance of performing magick is too often overlooked or not considered, so we used this technique as a prerequisite and threshold for all participants to help them find subjective meaning in sometimes absurd and illogical actions that have sense within themselves.

    We stressed the importance of the Second Sight for the second run of Walpurgis, as we found it under-used during the first run.

    This technique encouraged participants to tap into their visions and ideas for the larp, situations and characters “in media res” and forge new paths of action.

    Divination

    This technique is performed to deliver indirect suggestions for a character ‘s next actions or path, by looking into the blurry past and the hidden present. It could be performed by a character on another, or by the character alone over themselves, as a form for diegetic steering. It requires a divination tool, but anything could be used if it makes sense for the larp itself.

    When a seer performs the reading on another, they require a framework for the interpretation of the signs, and it can be as vague or specific as the consultant wants.

    The answers from the divination should include situations the character who asks for the divination will most surely come across (or have the delusion of encountering), as proofs or triggers behind the divination messages.

    Comment: Divination is best for “soft” influences and suggestions. Anything goes with it, and any vague statements and inaccuracies make it very fitting for the “consultant”character to fill up the blanks. It is taken for granted that the “seer” character will start any reading after they enter the Second Sight.

    Sorcery

    There is no subtlety in sorcery, a blunt and direct technique to exert power and obtain results and alterations in the outer world and in others. It is defined as engaging through forceful commands and overt manipulation.

    The effects on other characters depend a lot on the dramatic abilities of the performer, for they are delivered mostly through personal influence.

    Examples of sorcery execution could be the ritual delivery of a charm, talisman or potion with the intent of a direct change on another; the use of gestures, looks and words to convey psychic manipulations or cursing; the composition of some sort of semblance or doll, etc. All of them are tied to let the target character know about the intent.

    There are many ways of performing sorcery, but with each one the sorcerer is sending a clear message: the character wants a specific result or course of action, is not afraid to force it, and the consequences be damned.

    Comment: Successful use of sorcery goes through the principle of “play to flow” for all involved participants: go along if it is well delivered and makes sense, display resistance even if the character is going to lose, let the circumstances and the specifics of your character decide.

    By design, subtle and indirect influences, charms and enchantment were not considered for “Walpurgis”, as we aimed for overt and dramatic interventions.

    Journey

    The technique for Journey was designed to enable travelling through other worlds, alone or in company. It is also seen as engaging through delusions and mindscapes.

    It comes in two modes: a mind trip and a physical walk, and both can be performed alone or with company, and take for granted the Second Sight is being used. As a mind trip, the character sits and navigates through a predefined inner landscape of the larp, using the guidance of another character who takes the lead and suggests (but not describes) what is happening or following their own path.

    As a physical walk, the character moves through a path after night falls, but projects the inner landscape they should be navigating in the outer world. It can also be performed with another character leading the path and suggesting the zones they are travelling through.

    This technique has worked better when performed with some aim or purpose of what the character wanted to find, and dressed up with rituals, music, candles or special lights.

    Comment: “Walpurgis” had a predefined inner landscape – the Underworld – for the characters to travel. It was broad and based on Mediterranean otherworlds (specially the Greek Hades) and the larp location, a group of cave houses in Southern Spain, was well suited to it.

    Implementing this technique in a larp would require to define an inner landscape or otherworld with the principles that operate inside and the kind of experiences that the Journey might provide. Otherwise, it could end in aimless wandering and complete disconnection.

    Evocation

    Evocation is intended as the conjuring of otherworldly beings to interact with them for information, exchanges, dealings and pacts. The technique was conceived as engaging through the perspective of a third person with an inhuman mindset: The Other, a character that is played through another character. Different kinds of Others could be conceived: long dead people, personifications of a specific emotion or complex entities who could be conscious but utterly alien.

    Evocation requires two characters, the one who calls forth, and a companion who helps and will serve as the basis for the Other.

    The evocation ritual is performed in a dramatic way by the one who calls, and conveys to the companion all the information they require: titles, powers, attitude, quirks and demeanor. At the climax of the ritual, the companion embodies the Other. Outwardly, there are no changes, but the magician can see them through the Second Sight.

    Then follows a power play between the Other and the magician, who are constantly testing each other’s power and will through their interaction and exchange, trying to gain the upper hand. The entity could ask for prices, obedience, tasks or information. At the end of the interaction, the entity departs by its own volition or when it is banished, and the companion has some distant memories of the interaction.

    A particularly dangerous – yet intense – variation is the summoning of a being of desire for the magician, a “demon lover”. The demon lover embodies the qualities and possess the gender the character finds most attractive. The companion embodies the demon lover and interacts – there could be words, touch, a playful exchange, violence, slight gratification or any kind of interaction, but there should be no fulfillment. Whatever interaction develops, it should be unsatisfying and frustrating at the end, but it might be insightful.

    Comment: Consent and safety are paramount when playing with Evocation, and particularly if any kind of intimacy is going to be enacted. It is understood the participants would have negotiated before the larp their interaction limits and are able revoke them at any point. To implement this technique, it should be also stressed that whoever plays the companion character could return to their normal character even if they don’t feel threatened, but don’t like how the interaction is developing, stating that the entity has gone.

    That all interactions were unsatisfying was a design feature for “Walpurgis”, but it could be different for another larp. However, we thought it was better to avoid power fantasies and any kind of wish fulfillment.

    Metamorphosis

    The technique for Metamorphosis is the process of becoming the alien Other, engaging inwards through a self-inflicted change of the character.

    It allows to change the character by direct ritual action during the larp, to discover new or vestigial aspects unknown before or to fumble and mess with oneself in a horrible and permanent way, whatever seems more interesting. Altering character traits, mindset or basic social functions, like substituting words for humming or rhythmic clapping, or losing the capacity to express some thought or emotion could be some examples.

    Tools for Metamorphosis are meditation, concentration, devotion, the invocation and absorption of god forms and specific actions undertaken as a means of transformation.

    Comment: As “Walpurgis” themes were horror, confusion and lack of identity, Metamorphosis was the way to go for radical transformations and experimentation, never to “improve” the character or give them an advantage over others, but to make them different from normal human beings by becoming the Other. Metamorphosis was intended as a permanent change, for a passing influence was the purview of other techniques such as Sorcery.

    An important point of note was that Metamorphosis was sought after by the character, and it was always personal. This could change for another larp in which a character could alter others’ core identities by sorcerous means.

    Additional comments

    The techniques were intended as a whole, but they allow for ample experimentation using only a couple of them. For instance, a short chamber larp – “δαίμων” (Daimon, 2019 and 2020), written by Juan Ignacio Ros for Somnia – has used only a streamlined version of Evocation. Other magickal techniques could be designed for specific larps, considering the needs, the design and how they would enhance the way the characters could interact.

    We made slight adjustments on the techniques for the second run to explain them better, but they stayed mostly the same.

    The biggest changes were connected to Evocation, to offer a more practical approach about it and establish better that the technique should be used with a companion who would perform the entity evoked.

    We altered Sorcery so it was understood only as “brute psychic force” and not as a general guidance and manipulation, for we felt it was needed to avoid vagueness and convey the coercive nature of such magicks.

    The definition of Metamorphosis was confusing for the first run, according to several participants, so we stressed that the Otherness that took over the character was inhuman, alien, unknown: connected to the chthonic and titanic nature of the Dark Gods that the characters followed.

    For the second run of “Walpurgis,” an online session was set up before the larp to give examples, describe and comment on how a participant could produce their larp content through these tools. Extended workshops would be also highly advisable to practice the techniques if participants are not familiar with them.

    These tools required engagement and a bit of preparation, but were designed to flesh out and guide interactions in a “magical” mindset, and to enrich the larp experience when Occult and ritual magic are considered.

    Cover photo: From the second international run of Walpurgis. Photo by Stefano Kewan Lee.

    This article will be published in the upcoming companion book Book of Magic and is published here with permission. Please cite this text as:

    Ros, Juan Ignacio. “Six Magickal Techniques.” In Book of Magic, edited by Kari Kvittingen Djukastein, Marcus Irgens, Nadja Lipsyc, and Lars Kristian Løveng Sunde. Oslo, Norway: Knutepunkt, 2021. (In press).

  • Navigating Online Larp

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    Navigating Online Larp

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    While online larps have been around for years, the COVID-19 pandemic has brought a new crop from a wide variety of designers and larp traditions and has seen a huge influx of players looking to fill the gap left by the cancellation of most in-person larps. We’re enjoying large numbers of new larps running and re-running, with designers trying innovative and exciting things in the field, but also making mistakes that those who have been running larps online since the beginning have corrected for years ago. Some players are finding the format accessible and powerful, while others find it difficult to invest in either the event itself or the buildup beforehand.

    Qualia by Mia Devald Kyhn and Adrian Hvidbjerg Poulsen, using Spatial Chat with Discord for text. Screenshot by Charlie Haldén.
    Qualia by Mia Devald Kyhn and Adrian Hvidbjerg Poulsen, using Spatial Chat with Discord for text. Screenshot by Charlie Haldén.

    I’ve played several larps online since in-person events became untenable, mostly from the international European and local British larp traditions, and mostly the designers’ first forays into this kind of digital events. The formats have been very varied – some across one or several sessions in the same weekend, one running fortnightly for months, some using text, audio, and video to communicate, others using two or even just one of those mediums. Amongst that wide selection, some trends have started to emerge.

    The first is that online larps can absolutely be a huge success. It’s true that they lack some components of physical larps, but many players, including a lot who were initially skeptical, have found that online larps are capable of producing a depth of emotion comparable to their real-world counterparts. I have sat in front of my computer with tears streaming down my face at both video and text conversations, and felt my heart rate rise based on sound effects alone when lying with my eyes closed and headphones on in a dark room.

    Tenement 67 by Bobbit Worm Games, using Discord video and text chat. Screenshot by Hazel Dixon.
    Tenement 67 by Bobbit Worm Games, using Discord video and text chat. Screenshot by Hazel Dixon.

    There is also, to me, a clear dividing line between online larp and online tabletop gaming, though the difference can be less distinct than it might be for in-person play. I’ve played one online larp where I was fully embodying my character for the duration of play, without having to make any out-of-character actions or imagine anything in my surroundings that wasn’t there, and that felt absolutely like larping. On the other hand, the more my character is supposed to be doing things that I myself am not physically doing, the more it feels like I’m playing a tabletop RPG in costume. As always when we’re in uncertain territory, the best way to avoid disappointment is to communicate as clearly as possible what experience the designers are intending to provide and hoping the players will participate in.

    Tips for Players

    If you’re a player venturing into online larp for the first time, you might have to try a few things to find out what works for you, and just like in in-person larps you’ll enjoy some events more than others even if the format is identical. There’s no obligation to do something you don’t think you’ll enjoy, but plenty of players have been surprised by how much they got out of online larp. Here are some things to think about that might help you get ahead when you’re starting out.

    Preparing Your Gear

    A lot of video larps will ask you to set-dress the area behind you so you appear to be somewhere appropriate to help the immersion of your co-players, and it’s great to do that. It can also really help to set-dress the area in front of you that only you will see. After all, you’ll be looking past your monitor at that area for hours at a time, and seeing post-it notes with your work to do list will probably jolt you out of the larp.

    When it comes to costume, it’s definitely worth dressing in a way that matches your character, but you get to choose between the immersion of fully wearing what your character would wear and the comfort of sitting in pyjama bottoms for the whole larp. Since you’ll be getting into costume in your own home and with typically much later start times than for physical larps, consider getting more adventurous than usual with your hair and makeup. What you’re wearing around your head and shoulders will make the biggest impression, but your hands will show up on video too, as well as serving as part of your larp world, so don’t neglect them in your costume.

    Death in Venice by Freeform Games, using Discord video chat. Screenshot by Simon Rogers.
    Death in Venice by Freeform Games, using Discord video chat. Screenshot by Simon Rogers.

    Run a tech test ahead of time, including checking out your camera angles and audio gear if you’ll need them. Using a laptop or desktop will often give you a more reliable connection than a phone or tablet, though make sure you aren’t running too many other programs in the background. Headphones will help avoid feedback, but make sure they’re comfortable to wear for a long time. More light will do wonders for your image quality, but use a shade to avoid shining a bright lamp directly into your eyes. See if your video slows down while anyone else who shares your connection uses the internet, and if you need to figure out some scheduling options. Get onto the software the larp will run on and familiarise yourself with it if you can.

    Getting Yourself Ready to Play

    Especially when you’re venturing into online larp for the first time, consider playing with people you already know. While playing with strangers is great fun, it’s much harder to learn a person’s physical cues and communication styles through digital channels, and since you’ll be adapting to a new format that has plenty of hurdles it might help to give yourself the advantage of playing with people you already know how to read when you start out.

    You can prepare in other ways as well, a lot of which are very similar to how you might prepare for an in-person larp. For example, familiarise yourself with your character, discuss how you want to play with the people you expect to interact with most closely, put together a playlist, etc. Do whatever helps you feel as comfortable as possible with larping, the part of the activity you know and understand, so you can focus your energy on adapting your larping to a digital environment.

    If you have a lot of video conferences for your work, you might be reluctant to sign up for even more of them in your free time. Consider voice or text only larps or, if you want to go for a video larp anyway, think about larping in a different space to where you work, treating the larp as a special event (booking time off work before and after like you would with an in-person larp, maybe taking time to make some pieces of your costume), hyping the larp with your friends in advance to build anticipation, and choosing larps that don’t run too solidly all in one block.

    Starting the Larp

    Once you start playing, give the larp a while to get going while everyone finds their feet and learns the communication methods you’re using. Larpers are well trained to adapt how they express themselves and understand one another, but most of us are having to apply that training in new situations and you might encounter awkwardness for the first little while.

    Take Me With You by Omen Star, using Zoom and Snap Filter. Screenshot by Kol Ford.
    Take Me With You by Omen Star, using Zoom and Snap Filter. Screenshot by Kol Ford.

    Pay attention to the larp’s mechanisms during any workshops so you know how to get the most out of the experience. Knowing when, where, and how to join conversations, ask questions, or signal safety concerns can make or break your experience. This is likely to be different for each larp and platform and may not be intuitive.

    During Run-time

    Then… larp. It’s the same activity you’ve done before in person, just using technology as an intermediary. Be conscious of the format you’re using and bring your character to your co-players in ways they can understand and respond to — facial expressions and hand gestures for video, voice for audio, emojis or adjectives or cat gifs for text.

    And as in any larp, pay attention to your body’s needs. Eat and drink when you need to. Take your meds. Get plenty of sleep. Know what you’re going to do if things get emotionally draining, even if you don’t expect them to.

    One of the most interesting new communication avenues available to you is text channels that you can use alongside play. Every online larp I’ve played has had some form of in- or out-of-character communication by text, and it’s great for quick, non-disruptive check-ins, flexible as a negotiation tool, and useful as a safety mechanism. It’s also very powerful for play in its own right, and creates opportunities that don’t exist in person for parallel conversations, back-channel dealings, and heart-wrenching confessions.

    After the Larp

    After play is done, be prepared for debriefs and afterparties to feel rather different. The after-larp glow can fade much more quickly when you aren’t physically surrounded by the people who shared in a powerful experience with you, and the energy shift between play and socialising is very different in online larp. Think in advance about how you might take care of yourself after the larp ends, be it a special meal, a bubble bath, or a cuddle with your cat, and consider arranging to talk to the people you played with most closely a few hours or days after you’ve returned to normal life.

    If you normally take a day off work after a larp to recuperate, there’s a good chance you’ll want to do that for an online larp, even though you aren’t running around in the course of play.

    Tips for Designers

    The digital larp design space has some extremely experienced designers working in it and I can’t pretend to be one of them! But a few things I’ve observed from a player’s point of view translate into actionable tips that could be useful to consider for people designing digital larps.

    Format and Technology

    When you get an idea for a digital larp, consider the format you want to use. Video larp is the immediate first choice for a lot of people as it seems most similar to in-person larp, but voice- and text-only larp can both be extremely effective. What atmosphere could you create using sound and silence when audio is the only connection your players have to the game world? Is there space for you to explore how people interact in text and display their personalities in text? What happens when you cross larp, a form that asks you to embody your character, with a format that doesn’t require players’ bodies to be visible? How can you match the format to the idea?

    Meet at the Tavern by Omen Star, using Discord video chat. Screenshot by Kol Ford.
    Meet at the Tavern by Omen Star, using Discord video chat. Screenshot by Kol Ford.

    Consider your tech setup to match that format carefully. There are many categories where you might find pros and cons, such as available functionality, ease of use, processor or bandwidth requirements, player familiarity, etc. And as widespread homeworking continues, the features each platform offers are changing regularly, so you might want to check back as your design develops.

    Accessibility should play into platform choice as well, and it’s worth keeping in mind that running your larp online isn’t a silver bullet for including people who struggle to access in-person larps. It can be great for those who find travel or the energy investment of physical larp challenging, but it has different demands on communication styles, attention spans, and physical access that can absolutely exclude others. Check your technology, make conscious design decisions, and continue asking the people you want to include in your larp how you can accommodate their needs.

    After you’ve chosen your platform, you’ll need to figure out how to set it up. Look at how you can encourage people to play in small, manageable groups, up to around six or seven players, either by making that a structural requirement of the larp or by creating softer behavioural or mechanical incentives for splitting up. Some platforms are designed to allow mingling and changing groups easily, while others might give you more features if you’re willing to accept a more rigid group structure.

    Getting Players to Jump In

    One aspect that can be easy to overlook amongst the practicalities of setup is thinking about what you can do to help players look forward to your larp as an exciting event. A lot of digital larps this year have been produced on short timelines and it’s great to get to play not long after signing up, but limited information until shortly before the larp and an absence of hype and communal anticipation can make the already unfamiliar prospect of an online larp feel alienating to some players and cause anxiety or a high rate of dropouts.

    Muerte de Reemplazo by Amalia Valero, using Spatial Chat. Screenshot by Amalia Valero.
    Muerte de Reemplazo by Amalia Valero, using Spatial Chat. Screenshot by Amalia Valero.

    Once play begins, no matter how elegant your design, interactions between players are going to be less natural. This is especially true at the beginning of the larp, so your opening act might benefit from having facilitators play a much more active role than usual in mediating communication between characters. The “just put a bunch of larpers in a room together and tell them to larp” strategy of larp design doesn’t work online yet, although maybe it will once the player community has more experience with the format. Having NPCs leading early discussions and inviting people to speak can help a lot in video and voice larps, and giving an idea of what interactions should happen where is great for text larps.

    The unintuitiveness of digital conversations also makes it harder to make smalltalk on video calls, and it can lead to awkward silences where players struggle to know what to talk about unless the pre-written characters include detailed motivations and conflicts that will drive play on their own, or play is very tightly directed. Providing new in-fiction stimulus to react to can help direct conversations, so if the larp has plot secrets it might be worth revealing the first ones earlier than you might at an in-person larp, as well as giving suggestions on how the players could react to engage with those secrets further.

    Similarly, the rumour mill doesn’t work anywhere near as efficiently online unless players put in quite a lot of effort into it. Side channels help, like having text alongside video, but there’s much less passive information absorption and dispersal than when your players are in the same place, so look at ways to divulge any plot-critical information to more players than you might at an in-person event.

    The Aftermath

    Finally, consider the design of what happens after the larp. If you plan a debrief to help your players derole or process bleed, how will you create emotional space between them and their characters when there’s a strong chance they’re still sitting in the same physical place they were occupying during play? How can you capture the post-larp energy and transfer it to an afterparty when the players aren’t physically together? Can you take advantage of the remote nature of the larp to invite players to come together again after a few days when they have had time to recover from the larp?

    Final Thoughts

    There’s a lot to think about as we adapt how we design and play larps to our current constraints, but with luck the community as a whole can see that as exciting rather than offputting.

    Yes, I wish we were able to larp in person, and no, I don’t think online larps are a complete replacement for physical larps. But right now they’re an option I’m extremely glad to have, and their low financial and time commitment are certainly going to let me larp more in 2021 and beyond even as in-person events begin to reappear.

    Cover photo: Oniros by Paula Jiménez & Pepe Roma, using Discord and Snap Camera. Screenshot by Pepe Roma.

    Editing by: Elina Gouliou

  • Writing Live Action Online Games

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    Writing Live Action Online Games

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    [This article is also available in Spanish, at: http://vivologia.es/como-escribir-juegos-de-rol-en-vivo-digitales/
    Thank you to Vivologia for translating it!]

    This article was written in the Fall of 2020.

    Larps that take place online (Live Action Online Games, aka LAOGs/laogs, virtual larps, digital larps, or online larps) have several huge advantages. If you happen to be living through a global pandemic they let you keep playing without endangering others, and even in more normal times they let physically distant people share experiences in a way we never could have before the internet. They also have the potential to be accessible (and inaccessible) in completely different ways than physical larps.

    Game Structure

    Online games have different logistical challenges than face-to-face games. Some game structures work better than others.

    • The game will be more immersive if your tech limitations are part of the world in the game (diegetic). If your game is about people calling old friends who live in different states on a video call and you use a real video call over the net, it will be easier to suspend disbelief than if your game is about people who are standing in the same room but your players must talk via video calls.
    • Only so many folks can gracefully talk to each other at a time in a group. There are many ways to deal with this limitation, but it’s not realistic to expect 20 people to share a single video call and all have meaningful conversations.
      • A circle game, where you have 5 or fewer players all sharing a single conversation in a single space (such as one shared video call) can work well. More than that becomes unwieldy.
      • An even smaller circle makes conversation easier. One-on-one conversations work great. You could write a game with only two characters or with one persistent character talking to a horde of others one at a time.
      • You can have more players in your game if your game structure is organized to split them into smaller private conversations for most of the game. An example would be a game using a speed dating format so that the vast majority of the game is sets of two people talking separately. Note: only some technological tools will support this kind of breaking apart and reforming of groups.
      • If you want more people in a single game, you can break the group apart by separating how people can interact. For example, if only some players can talk in a voice chat that everyone hears, and other players listen but only write in a text chat, it will help folks share the conversational space. The key here is that players do not need to talk over others or interrupt to take part.
      • Another way to have more people in a game is to use technology that allows them to self-segregate into smaller conversations. For example, Discord will let you make a server with multiple (voice or text) channels that people can freely move between. Remo allows you to have multiple small “tables” that participants can move between. There are also some chat applications like Gather.town (free up to 25 people) that control who you can interact with based on distance in a virtual space.
    Discord group shot from Death in Venice, screenshot by Steve Hatherley
    Discord group shot from Death in Venice, screenshot by Steve Hatherley

    Running Face-to-Face Larps as Laogs

    Some games meant to be run face-to-face can be adapted to work online.

    • Small games that primarily take place in one circle (eg. everyone is in the same car on a road trip) require more suspension of disbelief, but can function just fine.
    • Larger games require tools (like Remo, Discord, or Gather.town) that let players self segregate into small groups. The separate “spaces” you create with technology can represent different areas of your virtual game space. Really large games may still have problems with players being unable to find each other or find space for private conversations, but this problem is less awful than if they were all forced into a single video call.
    Custom gather.town map for The Barbecue, by Quinn D and Faye Levin-O'Leary
    Custom gather.town map for The Barbecue, by Quinn D and Faye Levin-O’Leary

    Things That are Harder or Very Different Online

    Some things are hard to transition to a virtual space.

    • Workshops that were designed for face-to-face interaction don’t work well online. You will either need to find another way to accomplish what the workshop does, or redesign it to function with the constraints of how online interaction happens.
      • Some workshops that require physical positioning or touch (for example Sound Ball or Throwing Swords from Improv for Gamers) may be impossible to translate into an online format. Others that don’t require physical interaction (for example Describe in Detail) may be easy to translate.
      • If you can’t translate a workshop to work online, try to figure out what purpose it’s serving in the game and see if you can find or design something else that will serve that same purpose online.
    • If your game has logistics that don’t need to be done “in the game space,” do them before or after the game. Find ways to do things like pre-casting or have character-building workshops handled by the players before the game.
    • Safety tools need to be redesigned to function in a virtual space. Depending on the tools you want to use and the technology you’re using, you will probably need to build a new version that works. You obviously need to do this ahead of time and explain to your players how the modified tool is going to work.
      • For example, we have run OK-check-in using the chat channel attached to a video chat like Zoom or Google Meet. To check in, a player or facilitator sends a message like “Ok @quinn?” to a chat channel, which Quinn would respond to in the chat so it wouldn’t interrupt the spoken part of the game.
    Meet at the Tavern - Savalion the Knight, screenshot by Simon Rogers
    Meet at the Tavern – Savalion the Knight, screenshot by Simon Rogers

    Some things are much, much worse in a virtual game than face-to-face.

    • If a player is trapped alone for a long time they are going to be miserable. In a real game this can sometimes be ameliorated by watching others play (even if this is only out-of-character fun), but if you are alone in a video chat you don’t have a lot to work with.
    • Don’t make your players fight with each other to talk or wait a really long time with nothing to do. Some players will handle this better than others, but it’s not usually fun.
    • Whatever technology you use to interact will have problems. Have contingency plans for how to deal with those problems so they don’t just stop your game dead.
    • Players who habitually overtalk can cause huge problems. Either design defensively, or be careful who you invite to play your game: doing both is better. This is not to say that big talkers can’t enjoy online games without making people miserable, but you may need to sit down and talk to them beforehand about the limitations of your game’s communication technology.
    • People can only sit in front of a computer for so long. Games that are longer than about 3 hours will need substantial breaks. In general it’s probably better to just keep your game at 3 hours or less.

    Accessibility

    Accessibility has totally different challenges online. Physical mobility is less of a problem in online games, but other things like having a blind player or players who have hearing issues can be even more challenging to cope with than they are face-to-face. How accessible your game is will be highly dependent on the technology you choose to run the game.

    Please keep in mind that some people have a much more difficult time understanding what’s being said when your game includes multiple people talking at the same time. This can be even tougher online, since all the sounds are coming from exactly the same place (your computer speakers or headphones). Either design your game to avoid multiple conversations in the same space or include a content warning so folks who can’t handle this can avoid playing. If your game avoids too much crosstalk it can be more accessible for some people than a face-to-face larp, because they will have much more control of their sound setup and volume.

    Together Forever, screenshot by Simon Rogers
    Together Forever, screenshot by Simon Rogers

    Conclusion

    Online larps require different communication tools and design strategies to allow players and facilitators to effectively communicate. But if we use design and technology carefully our online games can bring together people from across the world and explore all sorts of exciting stories and experiences just as well as physical larps do. In the future when 2020 is only an unpleasant memory, we will still have these tools to use when we play with our distant friends.

    Cover photo: Custom Remo floorplan for Under the Faerie Hill, artwork by Alison Joy Schafer and Julie Diewald.

    Editing by: Elina Gouliou

  • Sleeping Areas, Off-Game Areas, and the Black/White Ribbon Metatechnique

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    Sleeping Areas, Off-Game Areas, and the Black/White Ribbon Metatechnique

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    In this article, I will present the black/white ribbon metatechnique, created by myself for the re-run of Libertines (2020). Put very simply, this technique is used to signal if you want play in your sleeping area or not, and can be changed according to your current wishes. Before presenting this technique in full, however, it is necessary to present the background, and to create a tool for discussing different kinds of sleeping area design choices. Therefore, I will start by introducing the mixing desk of sleeping areas, and will discuss the pros and cons of having a separate off-game room, before arriving on the design of Libertines, and the black/white ribbon technique itself.

    The Sleeping Area

    When it comes to the place where you sleep (usually a bedroom, dorm or tent), there are a few different approaches a larp can have. I first set out doing a list of different categories of sleeping areas, but soon realized that it was rather a question of different sliders, akin to those of the mixing desk of larp.((Jaakko Stenroos, Martin Eckhoff Andersen, and Martin Nielsen (2016). The Mixing Desk of Larp: History and Current State of a Design Theory. Analog Game Studies. Accessible at: http://analoggamestudies.org/2016/11/the-mixing-desk-of-larp-history-and-current-state-of-a-design-theory/)) The mixing desk of sleeping areas instead has the following sliders:

    • Aesthetic: This about how the sleeping area looks. If it is 360°, everything in the sleeping area looks as it would within the reality of the game. If it is off-game, it does not correspond to the reality of the game at all. If the slider is somewhere in the middle, that is comparable to a medieval larp where sleeping bags are allowed if hidden under blankets.
    • Playability: Whether you are meant to be playing your characters in the sleeping area or not. Some larps have very intense play in the sleeping areas; marital arguments, sex scenes or interactions with servants. At other larps, play should be dialed down or completely avoided, for example in dorms where you risk waking people up.
    • Availability: This slider refers to who is allowed to enter the sleeping area. When the slider is at max, anyone can come into the sleeping area, without an invitation, at any time. This can be interesting for example in games where there are secrets between the characters, or when invasions of privacy are part of the experience. When the slider is at its lowest, only the occupant(s) of that sleeping area may enter. If the slider is in the middle, people might be allowed to enter if invited, or if they have a close relationship with the occupant(s). These rules of course stand in relationship to the diegetic rules of the larp, but are not necessarily the same. For example, in a Regency game it is of course unthinkable that a young woman receive visitors in her bedroom, other than family and close friends. That is the diegetic rule. The non-diegetic rules can still allow for anyone to barge into her room, and face the in-game consequences.
    • Sleep: At some larps, it is a part of the design that you cannot rest easy, and have no guarantee of getting a full night’s sleep. At other larps, you want your participants well rested. When the slider is at max, having people woken up during the night is allowed, perhaps even an important part of the design. When the slider is at its lowest, it is not allowed to wake people up, and noise should not be made anywhere close to the sleeping area.
    • Sharing: Who you share a sleeping area with makes a lot of difference to the game. If you for example have been assigned to a room together with your character’s spouse, then there is a lot of potential for play. If you share a sleeping area with off-game friends that have no strong relation to your character, then you might be less inclined to be actively in-character while in the sleeping area.
    • Safety: This slider concerns how safe your character should be able to feel in the sleeping area. In many ways, this slider correlates to many of the other sliders. If, for example, anyone can enter your room at any time, and if you might be woken up during the night, then the sleeping area will not be a safe space for your character. And if you are sharing your room with someone your character has a negative relationship with in-game, that creates unsafety for your character as well.
    The mixing desk of sleeping areas (diagram, Julia Greip)
    The mixing desk of sleeping areas (diagram, Julia Greip)

    An example of a game with most of the sliders relatively high is Baphomet. The rooms are overall in-game, playable areas, which are shared with your character’s partner. While social conventions on whose room you may enter are in place during the beginning, these crumble away during the game, and entering anyone’s room becomes feasible. The only slider that is relatively low is that of sleep, as off-game sleep deprivation is not part of the design, and loud craziness after midnight is discouraged. Overall, there is great potential for the characters to feel unsafe in their rooms, especially if their relationship to their partners turns sour during the larp.

    Examples of larps that have all sliders on minimum are of course those where the players do not sleep in-game, as is the case with Inside Hamlet and the Androids larps. This solution is suitable if the characters would sleep in conditions that are unfeasible for the players, or if the venue of the larp does not have places to sleep. It also works well if during the night there is an act break where a longer time period passes in-game.

    When it is not clearly stated what settings a larp has on this mixing desk, one of three things will happen. People will decide amongst themselves for each sleeping area, they will try to guess what is appropriate, or they will decide themselves based on their own preferences. That people decide themselves is preferable here, and generally works well as long as they are in agreement, and if there is no need or interest for players to enter the sleeping areas of others. If people guess, things might also work out fine, provided they come from similar larping cultures. There is, however, a risk that the sliders end up somewhere in the middle, and that the settings are not optimal for the experience that the larpwright intended. Finally, if people just go with their own preferences, there is great risk of frustration between larpers, especially if they come from different larping cultures. For example, I’ve shared a room where I anticipated intense, pressure-cooker play and complete immersion, but my roommate felt that it was a place to rest and check their phone. 

    The Off-Game Room

    As part of creating safe larps, many larps provide an off-game area, where the players are welcome to go during the game. Sometimes the room is staffed, so that there is always someone available to provide support for larpers. This can be either because they feel unsafe out of character, or because they’ve experienced intense play that they need to process with someone. Other times, the off-game rooms are unstaffed. They then serve mainly as a place to either go by yourself to get a breather, or with a co-player to talk things through.

    Although there are benefits of having an off-game room open to participants, there are also some potential risks and problems with it:

    • Staffing: The most obvious and practical problem with having a staffed off-game room is of course that you will need staff enough to do so. Larps that do not have a big budget or hordes of willing helpers will have a hard time doing so.
    • Reproducing negativity: Sometimes, off-game rooms become places where the participants ventilate about things that do not work well with the larp design. Sometimes, it is a good thing to be able to vent your frustrations and then go back to trying to have an enjoyable experience. However, there is also a risk of a negative feedback loop, where the participants feed each other’s negative view of the game. This risks leading to a lessened readiness to try to make the game an enjoyable experience. There is also a higher risk that the participants do not turn to an organizer to share their concerns (particularly if the area is unstaffed), so that the flaws in the game can be remedied.
    • The fragility of the magic circle: It’s fun to laugh and chat with your friends off-game, especially since they are usually people you do not see that often. During outdoor larps in uncomfortable weather, it is also nice to be warm, dry, and perhaps have a snack. This means that even though you might enjoy the game, it is sometimes hard to tear yourself away from an inviting off-game room. And the longer you stay, the longer it takes to get back into the intensity of the feelings within the game. Having the chance to chat and laugh about the game is a way to release tension – tension that is often an important part of the game.

    However, intense games where there are no off-game areas whatsoever, and where sleeping berths are not off-limits, can get a bit too intense. Some larpers have no problem with this level of intensity, and even prefer it. Others might need a place where they can feel safe and know that they will not be bothered for a while.

    The Black and White Ribbons

    During the first two runs of Libertines, in 2019, we had no off-game room. Instead, we had the space outside the front door as an off-game area. This was both due to the reasons listed above, and that the venue did not have any indoor space that we deemed appropriate. By having a space that was not overly comfortable and inviting, we hoped to limit off-game time to necessary calibrations. The players were also free to enter each other’s rooms uninvited. This rule was in place to allow for oppression and threatening behavior, to create a sensation of having nowhere that was completely safe. It also meant that the rooms were in-game at all times, and not spaces for being out of character.

    A bedroom scene at Fairweather Manor (photo, Karel Křemel)
    A bedroom scene at Fairweather Manor (photo, Karel Křemel)

    Overall, this worked well. However, a few participants expressed that they would have liked a space that felt safe; a place to rest or calm down. A few others expressed that they would have liked more people to come uninvited into their room, to feel even more unsafe. Since we had no way to indicate who wanted what, however, the oppressors often played it safe and did not barge into rooms unnecessarily.

    For the second two runs of Libertines, played 2020, this was one of the main changes I wanted to make. I wanted a system where people could signal both when they did not want to be disturbed, and when they welcomed people barging in. I was inspired by the common practice of putting a sock on a door handle when you do not want someone to enter (usually because you’re having sex). Instead of socks, I thought colored ribbons suitable. At first, I thought green and red most appropriate, since the colors are strongly connected to “yes” and “no”. Then, however, I realized that color-blindness is often linked to these exact colors, and that they are harder to make out in a dark corridor. Therefore, I ended up on choosing black and white ribbons instead.

    The ribbons were non-diegetic, and so were only visible to the players, not the characters. Each room had a black and a white ribbon available, and the players put them on the outside door handles depending on their needs. Their meanings were the following:

    • White ribbon: Please enter! This was used when an interesting scene was happening in the room, that would become more interesting by someone walking in on it. It was also used when you wanted someone to come in and interact with you.
    • Black ribbon: Don’t enter! This was used when someone needed to take a break and rest. Only roommates were allowed to enter the room at this time, but would do so quietly.
    • No ribbon: Neutral. This was neither an invitation or a dismissal. People were still allowed to come into your room, but would usually not do so unless they had a reason to do so.

    It is very important to note that the black ribbon was not for wanting to chat off-game in your room – this was still discouraged, and off-game conversations were relegated to the off-game area outside the house. There were two reasons for this. Firstly, we wanted to avoid the effects of the off-game room mentioned above. The second was that the walls of the venue are relatively thin, and people somehow usually talk a bit louder when they go off-game and relax. Allowing people to be off-game in their rooms would simply be audible outside the room, with a high risk of breaking immersion for their neighbors. However, we did allow and encourage a quick check-in in a hushed voice if your roommate had put up a black ribbon. This way, if someone was not feeling okay and needed to talk to the organizers, it had a greater chance of coming to our attention.

    The effect of the ribbons, in essence, is giving the players the power over some of the sliders on the mixing desk of sleeping areas. While the Aesthetics and Sharing sliders remain the same throughout the game, the ribbons offer control over the Playability, Availability, Sleep, and Safety sliders. The white ribbon sets these sliders to maximum, the black sets them to minimum, and leaving the door handle with no ribbon sets the sliders to medium.

    Overall, the ribbon system worked really well: all the participants who answered the evaluation form after the larp liked it. There were comments of both black and white ribbons being used with their intended effect, and especially of scenes being enhanced by the effects of the white ribbon. The only negative comments received were that when it was dark in the corridors, it was sometimes harder to see the ribbons. This can be avoided by using wider ribbons (ours were only about 1 cm wide) and not skimping on the length, allowing for a big bow tie.

    One critique I did not find, but that could happen at some point, is the problem of disagreeing with your roommate’s use of ribbons. If they want the white ribbon up at most times, but you would prefer having no ribbon up or even want lots of breaks with the black ribbon up, that could be a small source of tension. In Libertines, it probably contributed that there were only two people in each bedroom. Furthermore, most of the characters shared a room with their spouse, and those who were unmarried shared a room with someone whom they had a lot of play with. If the rooms were shared by several people, who did not have a lot of play together, this system would not have worked as well.

    By having this system in place, it seemed as if the players grew both more courageous, and also felt safer. Knowing that there was always a simple way to get some alone time, it was easier to lean into the cruel and oppressive aspects of the game, and be more courageous as a player. Similarly, having ways to dial things up and invite play into your room, made it easier creating the narrative arc you wanted, and give interesting play to your co-players. I recommend it for larps where you want intense play and oppression to happen in the sleeping areas, but also want the players to be able to use the sleeping areas as a safe-haven from time to time.

    Ludography

    Atropos Studios and Julia Greip, Libertines (Rødby, Denmark: Atropos Studios, April 22–28, 2019 and Jan 27–Feb 2, 2020)

    Bjarke Pedersen and Linda Udby, Baphomet (Participation Design Agency)

    Bjarke Pedersen, Johanna Koljonen and Martin Ericsson, Inside Hamlet (Participation Design Agency)

    Simon Svensson, Do Androids Dream? (Ariadne’s Red Thread)

    Atropos Studios, Where Androids Die (Atropos Studios)

    Atropos Studios, When Androids Pray (Atropos Studios)

    Cover photo: A black ribbon in use (photo, Julia Greip).

  • Characterization in a Hurry: From Laban to Larp

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    Characterization in a Hurry: From Laban to Larp

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    [This article is also available in Spanish, at: http://vivologia.es/caracterizacion-de-laban-al-larp/
    Thank you to Vivologia for translating it!]

    The Laban efforts((Schiffman, J. 2001. “THE CRAFT: Mechanics of Movement – Laban Theory can help actors suit the action to the word.” Available online: https://www.backstage.com/magazine/article/craft-mechanics-movement-laban-theory-can-help-actors-suit-50428/ [accessed 16 October 2019].)) are a method of describing movement used by primarily dancers, but also actors when working on the early stages of characterisation. They are essentially eight “personalities” of movement which you can use to easily distinguish different roles from each other. Laban efforts are a particularly useful way of creating a distinct character quickly and can also be used in larping, especially if you know you’re going to be interacting with the same players multiple times under different guises, or if you’re in a group of similar non-player characters (NPCs) that you still want to appear distinct from each other.

    Dancing dervishes (photo, revac film's&photography from Pexels
    Dancing dervishes (photo, revac film’s&photography from Pexels)

    Everybody finds different techniques work for them, but this is one that I find particularly helpful in a larp setting, so maybe you will too. Also, I only know Laban from other people passing it onto me. I don’t understand it in detail, but I know enough to dabble. If what you read here interests you, it’s definitely worth doing some more research.

    The simple version of the efforts is that there are essentially different pairs of words that describe movement. And if you take one word in each pair, you end up with a combination that can be given a name to describe that style of movement. The pairs I like to work with are:

    Heavy      Light

    Sudden      Sustained

    Direct      Indirect

    Bound      Unbound

    Let’s go through each pair. When you’re building a character, it can help to choose these aspects one by one and try out that kind of movement before adding the next bit. Otherwise, the movements are quite a lot to think about at once.

    Heavy vs. Light is probably the simplest choice. Does the character seem to have their focus downwards (heavy) or upwards (light)? Do they leave an impact on the world around them (heavy) or do they barely seem to touch it (light)?

    Sudden vs. Sustained. This is sometimes also known as fast vs. slow, but it doesn’t really describe speed; all the efforts should be able to be performed at all speeds. I prefer to think of it like the character’s visual attention span. Do they perfectly complete every action before moving onto the next (sustained) or do they react instinctively and without thought (sudden)? To me, there’s a certain elegance to sustained movement and an idea of fast-paced thought with sudden movement.

    Direct vs. Indirect is the pair I find hardest. Does the character move in straight lines (direct) or curves and spirals (indirect)? Do they find distractions on the way to their goal (indirect) or do they ignore everything else but their objective until they have reached it (direct)?

    Bound vs. Unbound. Sometimes this pair is omitted, as it is kind of an optional extra called “flow,” but it’s my personal favourite pair. Flow describes the manner in which a movement is performed and, to me, this is often the aspect that makes a character come alive. A bound character will have very closed body language with a lot of tension present in their body. An unbound character is free, with an open and generally more relaxed body.

    Five women lying on the ground (Photo, Skitterphoto from Pexels)
    Five women lying on the ground (Photo, Skitterphoto from Pexels)

    Laban described eight efforts corresponding to choices made between the above pairs. The efforts each describe a movement which is characteristic of the three factors chosen. For example a heavy, direct and sudden movement is described as ‘punching’. This doesn’t mean that a character who moves with that effort will constantly hit others, but keeping the idea of the ‘punch’ in mind, is a simple way to reduce its three components down into something more instinctively performed: it is simpler to think about walking in a way that is similar to a punch than it is to walk in a way that is heavy, direct and sudden.

    If you try them out with their name in mind, you’ll see that each effort almost seems to have its own personality. At that point, you can see how giving one of the efforts to a role can be such a quick step to characterization.

    So, give it a try. Walk around as a Flicker or a Presser and see how different it feels to your normal way of moving. Try to think of the kind of character it evokes. And just have fun – larp is a hobby, not a job. I’d never recommend doing this for every single character you play, that just sounds exhausting. But if it seems to work for you, then why not try playing your next character or NPC with a Laban effort and see how it feels?

    Cover photo: Red human face monument (photo, Mike from Pexels)

    Content editing: Elina Gouliou

  • Writing an Autobiographical Game

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    Writing an Autobiographical Game

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    An autobiographical game is a game that is based on the experiences of the designer(s). There is, of course, a lot of wiggle room in that description. A game that realistically depicts an event from the creator’s life moment to moment is an obvious example, but what about an abstract game that is emotionally true to the creator’s lived experience but not literally true? Does a game in which players fumble around a room in total darkness without speaking count as autobiographical, if the purpose is to experience something similar to the helplessness and frustration the designer felt when they experienced a loss?

    For the purposes of this piece I am going to talk about something that’s planted firmly in between the two. Specifically, I’m going to talk about designing an experience that explores autobiographical themes through metaphor while also incorporating characters that are based on real people. This goal is what I tried to achieve when writing The Truth About Eternity, my semi-live scenario for Fastaval this year.

    The Truth About Eternity (Davis 2019) is a scenario about a near future in which ancestor worship has taken the form of preserving the deceased in digital tombs. When a person dies, their family can upload an artificially intelligent copy of them to a server and then continue to visit them via virtual reality. The scenario explores the relationships between two digitized ancestors and their three living descendants, all who belong to different generations, as well as the financial and emotional strain that comes with maintaining these digital tombs. One of the major themes is the struggle of balancing familial responsibility and personal freedom. At its core, this scenario is about Korean family dynamics, eldercare, guilt, and grief. It’s also about whether artificially intelligent copies of human beings have souls, but that question is presented in the scenario as a way to further explore those core themes.

    While I clearly do not live in a world in which digital tombs of this nature exist, The Truth About Eternity is largely autobiographical. The three descendants, Esther, Helen, and Sam, are based on my grandmother, mother, and me. They are not carbon copies when it comes to the details, but I wrote them to be largely emotionally true to the three of us. The two ancestors, Jungwoo and Minji, are amalgams of various family members both living and deceased. Likewise, while some of the scenes are completely fictitious, many of them pull from real moments in my family’s history, some which I was present for and others which I heard about after, sometimes long after, they transpired.

    grandparents posing with granddaughter by trees
    Family photo of Clio Yun-su Davis and grandparents. Photo by Hoyun Kim.

    Why Write an Autobiographical Game?

    There’s a scene that makes its way into what feels like the vast majority of media revolving around ghosts. The protagonist somehow witnesses the trauma of the ghost through a vision or by investigating what happened to the deceased, and through witnessing the trauma they have either freed the ghost or have learned what must be done in order to do so. This trope is so prevalent that it’s hard to imagine there’s nothing to it in real life. There is something healing about having other people witness the most painful moments in your life because in sharing these moments you become less alone in them.

    What part of your life do you want other people to witness and experience, and why? If you’re thinking about writing an autobiographical game, it will likely help to have as specific of an answer to that question as possible. If I had gone into writing The Truth About Eternity with the goal of creating a game about my family rather than creating a game about the guilt and profound grief my family has contended with while taking care of my grandmother who has advanced dementia, I would likely not have gotten too far. In my experience, vague design goals often lead to less memorable experiences for players. I would rather play in a game about someone’s family dinner growing increasingly awkward because a will was recently read than a game about a family dinner that becomes awkward because the characters don’t like each other for unspecified reasons.

    Once you have determined what part of your life you would like other people to experience, even just for a snapshot, it’s a good idea to have some understanding of the “why” behind the design. There is a decent chance that your “why” will look like one or all of the following:

    • Because I want other people to understand this part of my life.
    • Because if other people experience this (in a controlled environment), I will feel less alone.
    • Because words are not enough to explain what I experienced.
    • Because I want to be witnessed.
    • Because other people have gone through something similar and I want them to know they aren’t alone.

    The Curse (Stark 2013), a scenario written by Lizzie Stark also for Fastaval, has a premise and family tree that both pull from the author’s own life while not exactly replicating it. The designer created the scenario partly as a means for giving others a glimpse into the challenges faced by those who have hereditary cancer in their family, and specifically cancer caused by a BRCA mutation. That is, at least in part, her “why.” Marshall Bradshaw, another American larper and designer, wrote his short semi-autobiographical larp A Political Body (Bradshaw 2018) in order to provide an opportunity for players to explore the struggle of having to choose between participating in a protest and staying home when a chronic illness flares up badly. The larp functions as a highly specific snapshot that depicts a much longer-term issue.

    The Truth About Eternity was the equivalent of the cursed video tape from Ringu (Nakada 1998) or The Ring (Verbinski 2002) for me. In these films, the ghost of a girl who was killed by being pushed down a well manifests her anger and pain as a video tape that kills the viewers after they watch it. The scenes shown in the video are mostly abstract, with shots that illustrate her trauma dispersed throughout. The video’s message is not a simple confessional of what happened, but a strange piece of art that conveys the creator’s suffering by inflicting suffering upon those who witness it.

    I was, and still am, this ball of guilt and sorrow due to my grandmother’s condition and the immense challenges that have come with taking care of her. It has been unbelievably hard to communicate the sheer magnitude of my grief through conversation or even in writing. Like the girl in the well (yes, I am running with this analogy), I had to create something else in order to make people understand the emotional component of my family’s situation. One of the goals of The Truth About Eternity is absolutely to make its players distraught. When I hear that players cried during a run, it feels like part of the weight of the situation has been lifted off me. It feels like an essential part of my existence has been seen by another person—finally—and just by being seen, some of the pain dissipates. Is it selfish to write a game for those purposes? It might be, if there weren’t a lot of players out there who specifically seek out games that try to rip their hearts out.

    There is a secondary reason for why I wrote The Truth About Eternity, and that is to help people who are unfamiliar with Korean culture and Confucianism to understand it a little better. The Wikipedia entry on Korean Confucianism serves as a good brief overview of some of the cultural information relevant to the scenario. As mentioned previously, this scenario was specifically written for Fastaval in Denmark. There are parts of it that would be different if I had written it for an American audience, and parts that would be very different had I written it specifically for Asian players intimately familiar with the culture.

    Much of the workshopping at the beginning is in place to deter accidental (and potentially purposeful) microaggressions. Autobiographical games that depict a culture different from the one the majority of its players come from have this additional challenge, as you must provide cultural context for the life events inspiring the content. You also run the risk of participants interpreting the game’s message as “this is what is wrong with this culture and why it’s worse than others” even if the goal is supposed to be “here is a glimpse at some of the complexities of this culture.” This especially tends to happen when players enter a game with existing assumptions about said culture gleaned from stereotypes, depictions of it in other cultures’ popular media, and brief encounters with it without deeper knowledge and context for its values. James Mendez Hodes touches on this tendency in his article “Best Practices for Religious Representation, Part I: Check for Traps,” in which he warns against wasting time on hierarchies of evil (Mendez 2019). One nightmare outcome for my scenario would have been if players used it as an opportunity to paint Korean (and Korean American) society as inferior and unevolved compared to others because of the game materials’ inability to make the characters’ values relatable. Too much information and the players are overloaded, while too little and they do not have enough to work with. Martin Nielsen and Grethe Sofie Bulterud Strand outline good practices for portraying cultures in larp in their “Creating and Conveying Cultures” chapter of Larp Design: Creating Role-Play Experiences (Nielsen and Strand 2019).

    Writing Characters Based on People you Know

    There are some questions of ethics and etiquette to consider when basing characters on real people. Each case is different so I won’t go into much detail here, as there are plenty of articles on how to deal with this when writing fiction that apply to games as well, such as Matt Knight’s “Using Real People, Places, And Corporations In Your Fiction – How Real Can You Get And Not Be Sued?” (Knight 2017). The short of it is, it’s generally a good idea to not make characters one hundred percent identical to those they’re modeled after. The more similar they are, the better it would be for you to get explicit permission. There are, of course, exceptions, but this is a good place to start.

    A game that is autobiographical for you, the designer, is also likely in part biographical for one or more people unless you are creating a game in which multiple players all play different facets of yourself or alternatively, a single player experience. You may very well be telling other people’s stories as well as your own. In a chapter of Larp Design: Creating Role-Play Experiences entitled “Writing Realistic, Non-Exploitative Characters,” Laura Wood (2019) describes the thinking behind writing Inside, a larp that takes place during an English class held in a women’s prison. The characters, created during a pre-larp workshop, pull from the histories of real people with whom the designer has interacted, but are purposefully not recreations of specific people’s lives. This is one way to avoid exploiting real individuals and their lived experiences.

    When emotions are strong and psychological wounds are fresh and/or deep, it can be tempting to write characters based on people we know as saintlike or evil beyond the shadow of a doubt. If you’re going for a surreal, cartoonish, or over the top tone, then this might work! If not, however, you will probably want to include a bit more nuance. Real lives and people are complex, and if you want to convey that complexity, you are going to have to do some things in your design that may hurt a little. Or a lot.

    Playable characters based on people who have hurt you generally need to have qualities other than that they hurt you. Again, when you dive into very surreal territory you might want to throw this out the window, but when writing realistic characters, this is important. Players are already often inclined to take a character with unpleasant traits and play heavily into them, making them as despicable as possible. I learned this the hard way with Jungwoo, an ancestor character who does some nasty, selfish things but is also supposed to be pitiable and at least somewhat sympathetic. Many runs of The Truth About Eternity seem to have featured a decidedly horrible version of Jungwoo, something that I’m taking into account as I prepare to make revisions to the scenario.

    Likewise, playable characters based on people who you love and admire need to have flaws. I struggled with this when writing Esther, who is based on my grandmother. I ended up taking one of her best qualities and amplifying it so much that it became a flaw—Esther is so selfless that her selflessness actually becomes a burden to her family. Similarly, writing Helen was a challenge because she is largely based on my mother who shoulders many of the same responsibilities that Helen does. It wouldn’t be difficult to play her as someone who easily makes all the most selfless decisions if I didn’t make her realistic by giving her her own conflicting needs. If a character is placed on a pedestal, a player may be hesitant to portray that character with the depth they would like for fear of breaking an unwritten rule about representing that person as perfect and beyond reproach.

    Photo of a mother her young girl posed against a rock wall with a building behind them
    Family photo of Clio Yun-su Davis and mother in South Korea. Photo by Mark Davis.

    Writing a Character Based on You

    This is where things get even trickier. There are so many ways in which writing yourself into a character can go wrong. You have to have a keen sense of self-awareness in order to write a character based on yourself realistically, and I’m still not sure whether I managed this or not. My approach was to create a character who shared my motivations, fears, and one big flaw that I’ve had plenty of time to examine. Sam, the youngest character in the scenario, is the embodiment of my desire to have all the elderly people in my family well taken care of despite what it might do to those fronting the brunt of that responsibility. In my case it is primarily my mother, in Sam’s case it is Helen, his mother. As much as Sam and I might sacrifice to help our families, it is never as much as our mothers sacrifice. So it is that Sam is fairly oblivious to how his desperation urges his mother to martyr herself. Sam has this flaw because I have spent a lot of time reflecting on its manifestation in myself. Had I not, I don’t know what kind of character Sam would have turned out to be, but I suspect he would be rather two-dimensional, not very believable, and therefore difficult to play.

    It can be a little weird and disorienting to have other people step into your shoes and play someone who is based on you for several hours. They may make decisions that make your head spin because you’d never see yourself making them, or they may accentuate your worst or best qualities in a way that makes you feel anywhere from slightly embarrassed to utterly ashamed. If you find yourself reacting strongly to the way others portray you, it’s a good idea to remind yourself that they are likely playing for drama and not to accurately depict you. Depending on how much you disclose, there is a good chance the player won’t even know their character is based on you.

    So far, I’ve mostly been amused and fascinated by how players portray Sam. I’m relieved when people play him as naive and childish because it means I didn’t write him to be a perfect angel simply because I didn’t want to see myself in an unflattering light. It is wise to check your motives when writing yourself into a game. If it turns out that the whole thing is a long way of saying you were right and everyone else was wrong, chances are you need to revise it.

    Is This a Game that is Emotionally Safe for You to Facilitate?

    This leads us to a question I grappled with even before I started writing The Truth About Eternity. Is the game you want to create something that you would be able to facilitate without it causing you too much distress? You are, after all, setting up a bit of an Ebenezer Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Past situation in which you may be witnessing variations on upsetting scenes from your past, depending on the content of your game. Some of those variations might take you by surprise in terrible ways.

    I don’t have a good answer when it comes to The Truth About Eternity because illness kept me from attending Fastaval this year so I did not get to facilitate the game for its intended audience. I have, however, heard and read detailed accounts of the runs that took place in my absence. Before I settle on a definitive answer, I feel that I need to run the scenario for a group of players not composed of my friends.

    What I do know is that I cried for about twenty to thirty minutes every time I sat down to write this scenario, which made finishing it in the first place ridiculously difficult. There were also multiple layers to my concerns about seeing players embody these characters. Would they make a parody out of these characters’, and therefore my family’s, suffering and the way I presented Korean culture? Would they find the characters and their situation so alien that they couldn’t possibly portray them with any seriousness or depth? These concerns are in addition to the standard anxieties so many people have about their games; do the mechanics work, are the workshops helpful, is the pacing okay?

    My advice is mostly hypothetical since I did not run the scenario in the environment it was written for. However, I would suggest running it first with players you trust before making yourself vulnerable to the world at large. That way at least you can see how it is you react when you know the other people in the room have your back and will understand if it’s an intense experience for you.

    Receiving and Parsing Feedback on an Autobiographical Game

    It’s a pretty radical act of vulnerability to write an autobiographical game and then hand it over to people who are going to tell you what’s wrong with it. When you take the time to create something that holds so much meaning for you and share it with the world, you will eventually encounter people who don’t like the thing you created at all. When you’ve created something based on your own life, you might find that even if you’re normally thick-skinned, the criticisms sting particularly badly.

    It can also be difficult to distinguish, particularly when writing about a culture that is likely unfamiliar to the players, when your design isn’t doing the best job of explaining how to portray that culture or when players are being unintentionally insensitive. I also dealt with this challenge when writing and calibrating The Long Drive Back from Busan (Davis, 2017), a freeform larp created for the 2017 Golden Cobra Challenge about a dysfunctional k-pop group. If the majority of runs of the game do not encounter an issue with this, then it may very well be an issue with the players instead when it does occur. When players are being intentionally insensitive, it tends to be more obvious, and unfortunately you can’t trust much of the information you gain from those sessions.

    Fortunately, none of the feedback I received for The Truth About Eternity was painful to read. In fact, it was overwhelmingly encouraging and informative. Some runs were a little bumpier than others, and players pointed out the things that didn’t go perfectly, but at the end of the day the experience resonated with many of them exactly the way I wanted. There were some players who did not connect emotionally to the content, but that’s to be expected with any game. For now, I can safely say I do not regret writing this scenario and sharing it with people. I would love to see more autobiographical games in the future from designers from different backgrounds.

    References

    2019. “Korean Confucianism.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation. July 22

    1. “Microaggression.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation. July 23.

    Knight, Matt. 2017. “Using Real People, Places, And Corporations In Your Fiction – How Real Can You Get And Not Be Sued?” Sidebar Saturdays. August 5.

    Mendez Hodes, James. 2019. “Best Practices for Religious Representation, Part I: Check for Traps.” September 1.

    Nakada, Hideo, dir. 1998. Ringu. Toho Co.

    Nielsen, Martin and Strand, Grethe Sofie Bulterud. 2019. “Creating or Conveying Cultures.” In Larp Design: Creating Role-Play Experiences, edited by Johanna Koljonen, Jaakko Stenros, Anne Serup Grove, Aina D. Skjonsfjell, and Elin Nilsen, 228–31. Copenhagen: Landsforeningen Bifrost.

    Verbinski, Gore, dir. 2002. The Ring. DreamWorks Pictures.

    Wood, Laura. 2019. “Writing Realistic, Non-Exploitative Characters.” In Larp Design: Creating Role-Play Experiences, edited by Johanna Koljonen, Jaakko Stenros, Anne Serup Grove, Aina D. Skjonsfjell, and Elin Nilsen, 228–31. Copenhagen: Landsforeningen Bifrost.

    Ludography

    Bradshaw, Marshall. 2018. A Political Body. In Review.

    Kim, Yeonsoo Julian. 2017. The Long Drive Back from Busan. PDF.

    Kim, Yeonsoo Julian. 2019. The Truth About Eternity. PDF.

    Stark, Lizzie. 2013. The Curse. PDF.

    Cover photo: Wilson Vitorino.

    Content editing: Elina Gouliou

  • 10 Pieces of Advice for an Autism Friendly Larp

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    10 Pieces of Advice for an Autism Friendly Larp

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    There are many things you can do to make sure that your larp is more inclusive of autistic people. You can choose to use the advice in this document as a checklist or as inspiration. Some of the advice in this document might not be relevant to your particular larp, so it is up to you to judge what is important for your game.

    This document is written by Bifrost’s secretariat in collaboration with Queer Autister København (Queer Autistics Copenhagen), an independent support group for and by autistic people. The document was originally written in Danish and has been translated into English by Lea Knakkergaard with the help of Elina Gouliou.

    1.      Offer detailed information before, during, and after the event. Many autistic people are challenged by situations that differ from their routine [2]. Some of that difficulty can be alleviated by knowing exactly what is going to take place. Let players know as fast as possible if changes occur.

    2.      Avoid harsh and/or flashing lights. Harsh lighting can be overwhelming to many autistic people, especially if the light is from an unnatural source. Also try to avoid flashing lights/strobe lights. If you can’t avoid one or more of these types of light, you should inform your players in advance. This advice can be applied to sensory inputs of all kinds, such as sound.

    3.      Offer an option to visit the location before the larp starts. It can be very helpful for people on the autism spectrum to get an opportunity to explore and familiarize themselves with the location before the larp begins and the venue becomes filled with noise and activity.

    4.      Offer a room with few stimuli. This could for example be an off-game room, where earplugs and noise-cancelling headphones are offered, the light muted, and the temperature around 20° C. This is especially important for a larp with lots of sensory input during the game. If you are not able to offer an off-game room, you should inform your players in advance.

    5.      Allow support persons to attend for free. It can be helpful for autistic people to bring a person who knows their specific challenges. This could be the autistic person’s legal guardian, their helper, or another trusted adult.

    6.      Accommodate dietary needs. Many autistics can be overwhelmed by sensory stimuli and might therefore be challenged by certain tastes, textures, smells etc. Make it clear where to go to meet their special wishes for food and be as accommodating as possible.

    7.      Be welcoming towards stimming. Stimming are repetitive behaviors that stimulate one or more senses. Stimming is a common way for autistic people to handle stress and potentially overwhelming sensory input [2]. Many autistic larpers have experienced people commenting on or making fun of their stimming and some have even experienced being told to put away their stimtoy [3], for example by being told that it didn’t look in-game enough. This can ultimately cause some autistic people to not be able to take part in your larp.

    8.      Avoid irony and metaphors. This point is especially important when you communicate important information about the game. Many people on the spectrum have trouble recognizing if a statement is ironic or not, and that can create confusion and insecurity. If you still choose to use irony, you can make the irony more obvious by using “air quotes” during off-game discussions and workshops.

    9.      Offer alternative ways of communication. Some autistic people are partially or fully nonverbal, and can therefore need to communicate in something other than spoken language. For example, you could offer them the possibility to write and have someone else read their writing out loud. If only spoken communication is possible at your larp, you should inform your players in advance.

    10.  Be open to feedback. Even if you do your very best, it is still likely you will make mistakes. Make it clear how to contact the organizer(s), listen openly to feedback, and avoid getting defensive.

    [1]  This text uses identity-first language. We acknowledge that some autistic people prefer person-first language. Read more about identity-first language here: http://autisticadvocacy.org/about-asan/identity-first-language/

    [2]  Read more about stimming here: http://autism.wikia.com/wiki/Stimming

    [3] For example, a fidget spinner or tangle toy.

    Cover photo: Fidget spinner stimtoys.

  • Your Alternate Relation Narrative (YARN)

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    Your Alternate Relation Narrative (YARN)

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    Creating relations between characters is essential to larp. The interaction between the characters dictates how the story unfolds and what kind of experience the players end up creating. Sometimes these pretend relations leave a lasting impression on the players, which can be expressed for example as bleed or the foundation of real-life friendships.

    YARN is a method intended to support both organizers and players in their relation building process. The method focuses on building relations containing dramatic options to generate different forms of drama between the involved characters, as well as their surrounding relations. Rather than defining a relation as being either negative or positive, YARN combines both positive and negative aspects into a single relationship. By doing so, the relations will contain a dramatic tension that can be exploited to achieve:

    • Organic and realistic relations
    • Options for drama and conflict which the players can tap into
    • A constant tension that can create more drama and conflict
    • A starting point for the characters’ play together

    At its core, the built relations will contain two elements: An emotional bond, that defines the magnitude and type of the relation, and a conflicting element, that defines the center of the relation drama.

    YARN Relation Building

    First of all, YARN relations are a cooperative effort. Therefore, the relation building must be seen as a dialogue, either between the involved players, between the organizers in charge of creating the relations, or between the organizers and players (or all of the above). This is to ensure different kinds of input, generating new ideas and thereby creating nuanced relations not entirely based on archetypes or tropes, as well as the option for negotiating the built relation.

    Secondly, YARN is based on an alternate version of the collaborative improv principle ”Yes… And…”. Instead of this term, YARN uses the expression “Yes… But…”, thereby focusing on the conflicting element in the relation being built.

    The starting point of the relation building dialogue will be to find or create the characters’ common ground (the Yes…). The common ground is what binds the characters together, defines their emotional bond and gives them a reason for interacting with each other. The common ground can for example be the relation type (e.g. family, friends, lovers, neighbors), the network, community or group the characters belong to (e.g. school class, cult, workplace, friend group), or what they have in common as persons (e.g. interests, hobbies, talents, dreams, ambitions). While the first two (relationship type and network/community group) can be considered highly descriptive, the last one can be very personal to the characters, and as such create many options for drama during the larp. The characters’ common ground can be based on several of these examples, creating the type and depth of the bond between the characters.

    The next step is to define what would spark a conflict between the characters (the But…). This could for example be a change in the status quo (external and uncontrolled change: a fellow family member dies, one of the characters gets fired, their community gets separated), the characters’ actions (internal and controlled change: one character breaks with the other, cheats in a competition, decides to run for office), or other relations (friends or parents against characters’ relation, boss prefers one over the other, one character is building a relation with someone new). This conflict can either be a part of the characters’ backgrounds or something that will happen during the larp, being agreed on or staged beforehand.

    The YARN Relation Building Summarized

    • Create relations as a dialogue
    • Find the characters’ common ground
      For example:
      • Relation type
      • Network, community or group
      • Interests, hobbies, talents, dreams, ambitions
    • What would spark a conflict?
      For example:
      • Change in status quo
      • The characters’ actions
      • Other relations

    These steps constitute the YARN relation building. They can be used either on their own in the relation building process, or they can be employed as a part of a relation building workshop before the larp, as described below.

    YARN Workshop

    Practical Information

    To host this workshop, you will need a ball of yarn for each workshop group (app. 2m of yarn for each relation, depending on group size). The yarn has both a visual, tactile and mediating function, and for symbolic reasons red yarn is recommended as it will create both a figurative and literal “red thread” between the characters.

    A workshop group needs to consist of at least two people and can be as large as needed, but it is recommended to create groups around the size of 4-7 people. This is due to logistical reasons (such as time and physical space), to keep it as a collaborative process, as well as for the sake of the participants’ ability to remember the relations being made.

    Allow at least 1 minute per group member for introduction of characters (if the characters are unknown to each other beforehand) and minimum 2 minutes for each relation.

    Example: A group of 5 would need app. 20m yarn and at least 25 minutes for the workshop.

    How to Run the Workshop

    Divide the participants in groups and give each group a ball of yarn. The groups can either be randomized or thematically chosen, based on the relation groups of the larp (e.g. the different families, friend groups, societies, etc.).

    The group settles in a circle facing each other. Every participant gives a very short introduction of their character (name, function and position in group, etc.).

    The relation building is a collaborative process between the group members. One participant starts by taking the yarn and, while holding on to one end of it, throws the ball to another participant in the circle. This creates a thread between the two participants. The participant throwing the yarn then states the common ground for the two characters (the Yes…). If the groups are thematically chosen, the common ground related to the characters’ relation type and group affiliation might already be decided. In that case, focus instead on the personal common ground (e.g. interests, hobbies, talents, dreams, ambitions). Everyone in the group can suggest ideas or thoughts on the relation, but as a rule, the definition right is with the one who threw the ball of yarn. The participant who has received the yarn then states the conflicting element in the relation (the But…), as before, suggestions from the group are encouraged, but the definition right is with the participant now holding the yarn. Note: all players involved in the relation has the right to decline any suggestion or change it to something they are comfortable with by applying the “But…”

    When the first relation has been made, the participant with the yarn keeps a hold on the thread and throws the ball to another participant, thereby creating another thread and another relation. This process continues until each participant has a relation to everyone in their group, creating a visual network of yarn and relations (e.g. in a group of five, every participant will end up with four relations). Note that groups with an even number of participants will have to re-throw the yarn to some of its participants to ensure everyone gets relations to each other in the group.

    The YARN Workshop Summarized

    • Divide participants into groups and distribute yarn
    • Group settles in a circle facing each other
    • First participant throws yarn to another group member, defining “the Yes…”
    • Receiving participant defines “the But…”
    • The process continues as the yarn is thrown to another group member
    • The workshop ends with a finished network of yarn between participants

    Cover photo by Nór Hernø.

    Edited by Elina Gouliou.

  • How to Take Care of Your Organizer

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    How to Take Care of Your Organizer

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    [This article is also available in Spanish, at: http://vivologia.es/como-cuidar-de-tus-organizadores/
    Thank you to Vivologia for translating it!]

    The term organizer burnout is once again making the rounds. In essence, it means that the demands on the people who organize larps, often in their free time as a hobby project, are so high that people are burning out and are being discouraged from organizing again. To prevent this, I have put together a handy list on how players can take care of their organizers and help to prevent burnout. This list doesn’t apply to all larps and organizers, but it can hopefully apply to several situations.

    Before the Larp

    1. When signing up for a larp, read through the information available. If you already know that there will be design decisions and policies you do not agree with, it doesn’t give you the right to criticize them after the fact and try to change the organizer’s mind about them. Often, an organizer has a reason for making a decision. You can inquire about the reason, but the organizer is not under any obligation to defend them-self to you. If the policy or decision really irks you, consider if you really want to attend this larp, or if you want to attend your own version of this larp. Respect that the organizer has their own vision for this larp.
    2. Leading up to the larp, use the official channels that the organizers of the larp have asked you to use. If they have asked you to email questions, don’t write to them through social media channels or personal messages.   Respect that some people need to compartmentalize information and that they don’t always have to be available.
    3. Read the information provided before asking questions, especially in the days leading up to the larp. If you struggle with finding information because it is spread out in different places, then you can point this out to the organizers in a nice, unpressurring way. This for example could be asking for a document with links or a thread that collects all information.
    4. If you stumble upon things you really like that the organizer is responsible for, tell them. Make them feel valued.
    5. Preparing for the larp, check the packing list and bring the things listed on it. Make sure that you bring snacks if you know you will need additional food. Read all the information once more.
    6. Consider bringing a present for your organizer if you know them well, like candy or their favorite drink. Otherwise bring hugs, but remember to ask if they want to be hugged first.

    During the Larp / Workshops

    1. Be on time.
    2. Don’t hog the organizer’s time. Remember, there are a thousand things to do just before a larp starts. Always give the organizer a way out of a situation and respect that they have things to do, even if you want to hang out with them.
    3. If you arrive at the event before the specified time, ask if you can help with anything and try to be mindful not to be in the way. The organizer has no obligation to keep you company if you’ve chosen to arrive before the set time.
    4. During the workshops, refrain from making jokes to lighten up the mood. If the organizer asks you to pose questions at the end of a segment instead of when you think of them, write down any questions and do that, instead of thinking that asking your question can’t hurt the flow or timing of the workshop.
    5. Don’t hog the organizer’s time during breaks or in workshops. They have a million things to do. If it is a dear friend, consider saying that you are there and ready to hang out and support them, but only if that’s what they want. Anything other than an enthusiastic yes is a no.
    6. Don’t ask the organizer for special privileges just because they’re your friend (unless they are for health and safety reasons).
    7. Listen during the workshops to understand what function the organizer will have during the game. If they say you can larp with them (for example if they have an NPC function), then you can, but remember to always give them an opportunity to opt out. If they are present only in an off-game capacity, then respect that.

    After the Larp

    1. After the game, thank the organizer either at the larp or afterwards online. Give them appreciation and tell them about things you enjoyed that they were responsible for.
    2. Allow the organizers some time to recover before providing negative comments about the larp. If you want to rant about the game in a way that includes criticism of some sort, check to see if the organizer is nearby. If they are, don’t do it. For an organizer, that sort of criticism is not what they need to hear in that moment. Your criticism during the larp may make it difficult for them to perform their other tasks effectively.
    3. Check in with the organizer after the game, repeat positive things, and wait for them to ask about constructive criticism before giving it. Some organizers request a Week of Stories, in which players should only share their positive stories from the event for the first week after the larp before issuing criticisms. Respect that wish.
    4. If there is a feedback form, fill it in. When filling in longer comments, remember to nuance your answers. Often organizers will clump together the data and the comments separately, which means that even if your data reflects that you have had a good larp, your comments may make it seem like a bad experience.
    5. Remember, you might not have all the information about a design decision. Even if something seems objectively bad to you, there might be reasons for it. Try not to word things as absolutes, but as things you perceived as flaws. Sometimes your own expectations or other outside influences are the reasons you haven’t had a good game. Sometimes it’s the design. Rarely is it because the organizer is a horrible human being.
    6. If you don’t organize on a regular basis, or if you have never organized a larp like the one you attended, have some humility. Remember that this is a person that has put themselves out there in trying to create something. Be nice.

    This is a living document that may be updated to include more tips. I don’t claim to have thought of everything, or that my tips work for everyone, but this is, in my opinion, a baseline with which to start. If you want to add something, including rewording, nuancing, or disagreeing, feel free to use the comment section and expand upon your suggestion.

    Cover photo: Pixabay

    Edited by: Elina Gouliou

  • Larp Tools: Pronoun Markers and Correction Mechanics

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    In role-play, players and their characters do not always use the same pronouns. Some players use role-play to explore personal questions of gender identity, using the alibi of the character to give them a chance to try on a new identity and experience being known, seen, and referred to as that gender. Others are simply more interested in experiencing a particular game from the point of view of a gender that is not their own, often because they desire the challenge of the play, or because they feel that the roles of a specific gender are more intriguing or important. Others still are gender non-conforming in some way and experience misgendering in and out of games.

    More and more larpers are coming out as transgender — meaning that their gender is different from what they were assigned at birth — or non-binary, in which their gender doesn’t fit within the gender binary of male or female. As a result, the way larps and larp communities use pronouns, casting, and references to gender role-play also needs to adapt in order for a larp to be accessible and inclusive to participants of any gender. Terms like “cross-play,” which has typically meant to play the opposite of your own gender become problematized when moving beyond a gender binary. Casting based on what gender one presents as or passes as, instead of what gender one wishes to play is also something to question, and can sometimes feel at odds with the design goals of the larp or the ideals of immersion.

    A sign on a public wall that says "Gender Grammar: Never Assume Someone's Pronouns" with a person walking by “Grammar Wars #2: ‘Never Assume Someone’s Pronouns’” by David Bleasdale on Flickr. (CC BY 2.0).

    These important considerations are beyond the scope of this article, though, which deals solely with player and character pronoun markers and the introduction of a pronoun correction mechanic to use at larps. These tools are designed to allow players to ensure their pronouns are known and used for themselves off-game and for the characters they are playing. The goal is to minimize the amount of misgendering, to expose participants to the variety of gender identities people may hold, to create the norm that pronouns matter, and to implement a procedure for correcting a pronoun mistake. All of these are in place to establish a Culture of Care and Trust, as well as to make our games and communities safer and more inclusive spaces for all bodies, genders, and identities.

    Pronouns matter. Misgendering someone is a big deal that causes them discomfort and pain. A misgendered player experiences immersion breaks in their role-play at best and gender dysphoria at worst. Misgendering contributes to negative bleed and emotional distress. Assuming pronouns for a player or a character can lead to trouble. To avoid pronoun assumption, the triggering effects of misgendering, and the sometimes difficult process of correcting a misused pronoun, the following pronoun statement and correction mechanics were developed. They were created in 2016 for New World Magischola by Maury Brown, Sarah Lynne Bowman and Harrison Greene, with help from Sara Williamson and Liz Gorinsky, co-authors of the larp See Me Now, which explores queer identities. Brodie Atwater contributed to later workshop adaptations. Pronoun markers are now in use in several large larps and larp conventions, and the pronoun correction mechanic is in use at Learn Larp, Event Horizon, and Double Exposure events.

    Pronouns on Display: Two Methods

    There are two main procedures regarding using pronouns on name badges at larps or conventions. The first approach displays pronouns on all name badges as an expectation or norm; and the second allows participants to add their pronouns to badges (or wear a separate badge or patch) if they choose. In both cases, players designate their own pronouns, and upon seeing the displayed pronoun, other members of the community are expected to make every effort to refer to each person by the pronoun that they have displayed.

    Default Pronoun Listing and Default Gender-Inclusive Pronoun

    New World Magischola (2016-) and Event Horizon (2017-) display player pronouns on player badges and character pronouns on character badges as a default. Players are asked to list their preferred pronouns on the document or database prior to the game, and nametags are printed from that source. The expectation set by this choice is that pronouns matter and cannot be assumed. Participants check the nametag to give all co-players the courtesy of correctly gendering them. In the absence of knowing someone’s personal pronouns, the default pronoun is “they,” which may be corrected to another pronoun using the procedure below or by checking the name badge.

    A New World Magischola badge listing pronouns
    Badge for a professor in New World Magischola with pronouns. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

    Putting preferred pronouns on all nametags normalizes listing pronouns. This practice recognizes their importance for player safety and inclusion, and makes it a generally accepted practice to see them for everyone, not just those folks who are gender non-conforming. It brings awareness to the existence of other ways of identifying and includes those who identify beyond the gender binary. If pronoun markers are a choice, it can single out those who choose to wear the badge, and draw attention to them as different from the “norm” or somehow “needing” a badge more than someone else. It can also be more difficult for a trans participant to have to decide whether to make their pronoun choice explicit (sometimes outing themselves), or attempt to pass by deciding whether to use a pronoun badge. Such a practice can make them feel that they are different from the rest of the community by needing to wear one, since their presenting gender may not “adequately conform” to their preferred identity. When pronouns are listed by default, it removes this decision from any participant, as it’s just a matter of course that all participants’ pronouns will be visibly stated. All players display their pronouns on player nametags and all characters display their pronouns on character nametags. The font is large enough to be seen at a conversational distance.

    Separate Pronoun Badges or Patches

    The large networked North American post-apocalyptic boffer campaign Dystopia Rising added pronoun patches in late 2016 and the Polish-Danish perennial castle larp College of Wizardry added pronoun badges in 2017. Badges and patches are a way for players to self-select displaying their pronouns on their in-game costumes or off-game attire. DR made official patches that are sold through their company store, and made rules about wearing them to ensure that subcultures in their game network could not discriminate against them or ban their use. In addition, the singular design would be recognized across their many-game network, and the guidelines for displaying them helped to universalize where to look. Prior to creating their official badges, some players had been making their own, or writing pronouns on another part of their costume, and there had been dissension in the community about whether this was proper. The official patches were intended to end those arguments. She/her, he/him, and they/them patches exist.

    Dystopia Rising’s pronoun patches. Photo courtesy of Eschaton Media Productions.

    In their fall 2016 and spring 2017 games, College of Wizardry introduced pin-on buttons/badges, which they made available for free at the beginning of the larp, as players pick up their robes and ties. The badges have three choices of pronoun options available (He/Him, She/Her, and They/Them) and they are optional to wear and use. These 1” badges are generally pinned near the name badge and are in a font that is easily readable. While primarily intended for use in-game, some players also use them at the after-party as well, especially if their off-game gender differs from their in-game one. Many College of Wizardry students wear various badges already — such as a House crest pin, or a pin to show support for an activist cause or membership in a club — so the use of a pin-on badge makes sense in the world.

    In both cases of Dystopia Rising and College of Wizardry, any player may choose to wear a badge, but no player is required to do so. Some cis players choose to wear one to bring awareness to pronouns and help normalize their use in game. Some players, including trans and nonbinary players, do not want to make their pronouns explicit, so they choose not to wear a badge. Trans and nonbinary players have noted that this self-selection process can require them to out themselves in a way that may not be safe or desired. Some genderfluid players do not want to choose a specific pronoun, so they may choose to wear two or more of the badges. In either game there is no mechanic for a default pronoun. Players in both communities have expressed thanks that the patches and badges were introduced and used.

    Pros and Cons

    In either method of pronoun marker, it is important that the stated and enforced community norm be that a participant’s stated gender is accepted at face value and without question. Comments such as, “it’s difficult for me to call you [pronoun] because you so clearly look like [gender]” are harassing, unwelcome, and should not be tolerated.

    Not every game will want to use a name badge for characters in-game, or use pronoun markers of any kind. An immersive historical larp where everyone is in period costumes, for example, may find the name badges or pronoun badges to be disruptive to immersion. If you are using name badges, placing the pronouns on the badge itself is typically least disruptive, as there is only one article that is “out of place” on the Regency ball gown or the pirate couture, for example. Organizers should make a careful and calculated decision about using name badges and/or pronoun badges. They are weighing player comfort and safety against an immersion ideal. Whatever choice is made, they will have to justify it to themselves and their participants. Choosing not to include visible pronouns may make certain participants feel uncomfortable, especially if they worry about being repeatedly misgendered, which can disrupt their own immersion.

    a pile of pins with the pronoun "they"
    College of Wizardry pronoun pins. Photo courtesy of Dziobak Larp Studios.

    Listing pronouns on name tags as a default is not the same as mandating wearing a separate pronoun badge or ribbon. Separate badges are extra items to wear or attach, and requiring everyone to add them begs the question of “but what if I don’t need one, because my presentation is obvious” or “I don’t want these progressive politics introduced into my game” or “adding the badge breaks my immersion.” Leaving them as an option can create these conversations and invite these arguments, which can be difficult for genderqueer participants to hear and be part of. Making pronouns a part of a regular nametag normalizes them as an essential piece of information, not an option, and stops deliberation about whether they should be used. This practice also raises awareness for correct pronoun usage outside of the larp.

    However, sometimes the act of choosing, especially for a genderfluid person, creates discomfort. The design choice of having the default gender neutral pronoun, “they” can reduce that concern, as “they” is used if a pronoun is not indicated. Using “they” signals a lack of reliance on the gender binary, as “they” is neither expressly male or female. Without the default pronoun of “they” participants tend to fall back on the binary, which is already normalized. The default of “they” instead changes the norm, but allows gender binary pronouns to co-exist within it.

    Correcting a Pronoun Mistake

    Being misgendered is a big deal, and it should not be tolerated. Many people who use incorrect pronouns do so despite good intentions and are genuinely mortified when they make a mistake. While being misgendered causes negative and hurtful feelings and is in some cases used as a form of deliberate harm, aggression, or violence toward trans and nonbinary people, when seeking to create a safety tool to contribute to a culture of care and trust, it is important that all participants give each other the benefit of the doubt. The benefit of the doubt means that everyone in the community will do their very best to use each person’s correct pronouns, and that there is a shared responsibility for correcting someone who makes a pronoun mistake, promptly and matter-of-factly.

    A pronoun sticker with Ted's pronouns listed as he, him
    A name and pronouns sticker from the Human Rights Campaign. “2017.06.08 Pride DC People and Places, Washington DC USA 6108” by Ted Eytan on Flickr. (CC BY-SA 2.0).

    When a person is corrected, they should accept it graciously, thank the person who is helping them use the proper pronoun, and treat their co-players with respect. The overriding principle is: “If you make a mistake and use the wrong pronouns in spite of your good intentions, the best response is to acknowledge the mistake, correct, and continue the conversation.” Over-apologizing exaggerates the mistake, derails the role-play and makes both the person who was misgendered and the person who did the misgendering uncomfortable. This situation can lead the person who was misgendered to feel compelled to reassure the player who made the mistake, which can heighten feelings of dysphoria or alienation. Thus, a simple “thank you” is considered preferred etiquette and is least anxiety-producing for everyone involved.

    To enact this norm, the following pronoun correction procedure was created and implemented in New World Magischola beginning in June 2016. A similar procedure is used at Event Horizon larp and at Double Exposure conventions (DREAMATION, DEXCON, and Metatopia). Providing a mechanic that includes a script both normalizes and standardizes the correction. This makes it second-nature and ensures that a considerate correction/response is used and expected.

    Pronoun Correction Procedure

    If a misgendering occurs, participants are taught and expected use the following quick, non-judgmental pronoun correction mechanic. This technique is used for both in-game and off-game interactions:

    1. Person 1 accidentally uses the incorrect pronoun to refer to someone. The person who was misgendered can be the person you are speaking to or someone you are speaking about.
    2. Person 2 notices the incorrect pronoun use and says the word “Pronouns” and shows the P hand signal. This can be one of two signals: the British sign language symbol for the letter P (which requires two hands) or the American Sign Language symbol for P (right hand only). If the player does not have one or both hands available, or chooses to, they can simply use the verbal cue “Pronouns.”
    3. Person 2 follows the verbal cue and/or hand signal with the correct pronoun for Player 1 to use. e.g. “Pronouns. They.”
    4. Person 1 says “Thank you” for the reminder and repeats the correct pronoun. Play or conversation resumes.
    cartoon hands make a P
    The British sign language symbol for P. Photo by british-sign.co.uk.

    Person 1: “We were leaving class at the same time, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to her.”

    Person 2: [Makes a P symbol] “Pronouns. They.”

    Person 1: “Thank you. I didn’t get the chance to talk to them.”

    This procedure can be repeated as often as necessary if the misgendering continues. Sometimes it is genuinely difficult to change one’s speech habits and use a different pronoun, especially when one is already under the cognitive load of roleplay. A person may need several reminders. The expectation is that one is corrected each time, both to help someone pay attention to their language use, and to encourage not letting a misgendering pass without correction. Anyone who notices the pronoun mistake is encouraged to speak up; it can be much easier for a friend to correct on behalf of someone misgendered than the person themselves. In each case, the response is the same: the person correcting uses the mechanic and states the correct pronoun and the person being corrected acknowledges with “thank you” and repeating the pronoun. Needing several reminders can be frustrating for everyone, but repetition is often needed as people learn new habits. If it appears that someone is intentionally misgendering or refusing to abide by stated pronouns, an organizer or member of the safety team should become involved. Deliberate misgendering or dismissal of the importance of using a person’s preferred pronouns is harassment and should be dealt with accordingly.

    Drawing of a hand performing the ASL P
    American Sign Language symbol for P. Photo courtesy of Pixabay.

    What the Mechanic Does and Its Usefulness

    1. Sends a clear message that your community is inclusive to people of all genders.
    2. Formalizes how pronouns are handled in your community.
    3. Reduces the amount of misgendering that occurs for players and characters.
    4. Gives a simple and quick correction procedure that is expected and minimally intrusive.
    5. Opens community members’ eyes to perspectives beyond a gender binary.
    6. Teaches participants how to get better at recognizing and using different pronouns.
    7. Helps trans and nonbinary participants feel more respected and safer.
    8. Allows role-play to continue quickly after a correction, rather than allowing a conversation to derail into obsequies and discomfort.
    9. Shares the responsibility for ensuring people are called by their proper pronouns to everyone in the community, not just those who use gender binary conforming pronouns.
    10. Opens your game to multiple gender expressions.
    Pink gender pins with he, she, they, and "ask me!" pronouns
    Pronoun Pins for XOXO Art and Technology Festival in Portland, Oregon. “Gender Recognition Pins” by sarahmirk on Wikimedia Commons. (CC BY-SA 4.0).

    Conclusion

    Pronouns markers and gender in games are a topic that needs further study in larp communities. Trans and gender-noncomforming players have stated that having a method for indicating and correcting their pronouns makes them feel more welcomed and included. Having one’s pronouns respected helps players feel safe and able to trust their fellow participants. Implementing a pronoun correction mechanic shares the responsibility for ensuring that correct pronouns are used with everyone in the community. Trans and gender-nonconforming participants have stated that it can be exhausting and difficult to continually correct others themselves, and that they appreciate it when others correct and advocate for proper pronoun use on their behalf. Many larpers and people in general society have little experience with people who identify beyond the gender binary, and tend to default to language or behavior that often is harmful to genderqueer co-players. Designers and organizers can put tools and techniques such as these in place to improve awareness of how default gender norms marginalize nonbinary and trans participants; to take steps to improve marginalization and toxic behavior within game communities; and to model better behaviors outside of the gamespace. While these tools do not solve the systemic issues that trans, nonbinary, and genderqueer people face in larps and everyday life, they make a visible and important step toward inclusion.

    Special thanks to Alex Rowland, Brodie Atwater, and Dani Higgins for feedback on early versions of this article.

    References

    Bowman, Sarah Lynne. “Bleed: The Spillover Between Player and Character. March 2, 2015. https://nordiclarp.org/2015/03/02/bleed-the-spillover-between-player-and-character/

    Brown, Maury. “Creating a Culture of Trust through Safety and Calibration Larp Mechanics.” September 9, 2016. https://nordiclarp.org/2016/09/09/creating-culture-trust-safety-calibration-larp-mechanics/

    Cover Photo: “2016.07.01 Nametags with Pronouns – Avery 5392_nonbranded” by Ted Eytan on Flickr. (CC BY-SA 2.0). Photo has been cropped.