A new generation is slowly joining the Nordic larp community. This fact is undoubtedly true; it can be seen at Knudepunkt/ Solmukohta/ Knutepunkt/ Knutpunkt and at the local smaller larps. But why are so few of them joining the multinational Nordic larp community and why are they not attending as many Nordic larps as previous generations? These are burning questions that I was sitting with, so I did the most logical thing. I asked them. I visited multiple Danish larps and larp organizations, where I conducted short semi-structured interviews with about 30 larpers aged 15-25, to try and get answers to my questions.
The two most common answers to the question were, “I can’t afford to attend Nordic larps” and “It’s not inclusive enough, because there is not enough info beforehand.” While talking about lowering larp prices,
the thing that really stuck with me was, “It’s not inclusive enough.” Having been part of the Nordic larp community for some time, this statement really shocked me. This shock naturally leads to curiosity and so the hunt for more answers began. What did they mean when they said it wasn’t inclusive enough?
There is an old saying, that answers often come when we least expect them. While working on a website for an unrelated project an email arrived asking about content warnings. Having worked with content warning before as part of a larp I was organizing, I wrote back only to realize that we were thinking of content warnings in different ways. In the past, I had used content warnings to
warn about sensitive themes. However, she was asking about content warnings for the actual physical mechanics, like a content warning for prolonged eye contact, because she had sadly had a bad experience in the past where this was only brought to her attention at the pre-larp workshop. Because this hadn’t been shared beforehand it basically prevented her from playing the larp.
Hearing about this experience guided the path towards further stories from newer players and their
experiences with Nordic larp (Editors n.d.). Another theme also arose in regard to spoiling a scenario vs. keeping players informed. Organizers sometimes want a big twist in their games to surprise their player and keep them on their toes, but in keeping the twists hidden, especially twists with hardcore themes, can be very damaging to the player experience. For this new player, the twist was so out-of-left-field that they ended up leaving the scenario midway, because they simply weren’t prepared for this experience.
So now comes the central question, “How can we design larps for this new generation of younger larpers?” While there is no central answer to this question, there are tip and tricks you can integrate into your larp design to include this newer generation of larpers. I have here tried to formulate 3 tips and tricks to use in your larp design based on the interview responses, as well as my experience designing for this audience for over 10 years.
1. Remember your content warnings, also for your mechanics.
If you are not already using content warnings for your themes, you should consider using them to make
sure your players are prepared for what your larp is about (Koljonen 2016). Remember all the pre-workshop information you give out is both to attract the players you want, while also giving players enough information to opt-out of your larp if your themes are not for them. If you are using content warnings for your themes, consider expanding your practices to also include your mechanics. Does your larp involve long periods of eye contact? Are you expected to be physically intimate with other players? Will other players touch each other without immediate consent because negotiations occur at the workshop beforehand? Then include that information as content warnings on your website. All of these mechanics are okay to have in your larp, but letting your players know before the workshop will give everyone a better experience.
2. Prepare your players, even for the twists!
Continuing on the content warnings, they are all about preparing your players for what your larp is about.
While it can feel great to shock your players with a twist in the story of the larp, this can also lead to a really bad experience for your players (Torner 2013). I am not saying that you should tell your players about all the twists and turns, but you should prepare them for these surprises. If someone is suddenly murdered in front of all the players during the larp, then it should be clear beforehand that this is a possibility either in the form of content warning or as some text available on the website. You don’t necessarily have to spoil your twist in order for your players to be prepared for them.
3. Have this information available on your website.
While for some it might go without saying, but remember to have all this information on your website or at least make sure your players have access to this information before they sign up. There is nothing worse than a player having a truly horrible experience because something wasn’t spelled out beforehand. Therefore, it is very important to have everything ready before signup to make sure you get a great player base that is ready to play your larp.
There are many more things you can do to design larps for newer generations, but the hope is that this has been a stepping stone for further ideas and an interest to delve deeper into the subject of designing larps for a new generation.
Torner, Evan. 2013. “Transparency and Safety in Role-playing Games.” In The Wyrd Con Companion Book 2013, edited by Sarah Lynne Bowman and Aaron Vanek, 14-17. Los Angeles, CA: Wyrd Con, 2013.
If you are a larper with any kind of limitations that affect your ability to play, the first thing you may think of when you see a listing for a new larp is not whether it is exactly your kind of thing, but whether you would be able to participate in it at all. Not for reasons of schedule clashes, but because of these other limitations.
Players with limitations, be these physical, mental, psychological, or something else entirely, will often feel like they are missing out on the full experience of the larp they are attending. Many larps – even larp as a hobby in general – are known to be physically, mentally, and psychologically demanding, and players need to know in advance if they will be able to engage with the larp to the same extent as everyone else, or to an extent that they are happy with. Transparency in larp design is what makes it possible for players to judge these things, which is why, for us, it is one of the most important tools for accessibility.
Accessibility is about looking out for people. Players come to your larp because it looks interesting and they want to have a good time. Thinking about accessibility and disability from the very beginning of your larp design, as well as communicating it clearly from the beginning, signals to players that they are explicitly included and that the designer has put thought into the wide range of people who might want to play it. Accessibility is about showing responsibility for players and the player experience as much as you can and should as a designer. Of course, you can never be wholly responsible for everything that might happen within a game, but to paraphrase Maury Brown (2016), you have power over what your larp allows, prohibits, and encourages. You control what the larp expects from players and whether this is reasonable for everyone who might want to play.
Ideally, accessibility should be proactive, not reactive. Disabled players often have to do the work themselves to figure out whether a larp will be accessible to them, rather than being able to rely on clear accessibility information from the organisers. This can be very draining and can make disabled players feel discouraged from larping at all. When accessibility information is not included, disabled players can feel that they haven’t been considered and that their experience at the larp is bound to be lesser than their abled co-players. Implementing accessibility proactively into your larp means that you consider what is and is not absolutely essential to how your larp is run, and you consider what you need to implement to make sure people with varying levels of ability and different limitations can participate in the larp to the greatest extent that is possible. A side-effect of this, as an organiser, is that your vision for the larp becomes much clearer.
Accessibility in larp is (and isn’t!) many things, depending on what your larp is about. If your larp’s foundation is about players being in the dark and all unable to see, lack of light would not factor into your larp’s accessibility in the same way as it would if the larp was not based on physical darkness. However, if a fantasy larp is set in a fairy glade with dim lighting, and if this would pose a problem for larpers with reduced vision, the lighting could be increased since this is not essential for the larp’s vision.
When you design a larp, it does not have to be accessible to absolutely everyone. For example, Legion (Czech Republic 2014), a Czech larp, takes place over a 25-kilometer hike over two winter days and, according to the larp’s website, hunger and tiredness are at times an “inevitable” part of the larp. This means that someone who uses a wheelchair, or someone with a chronic illness, would very much struggle with the essential parts of the larp and would not necessarily be able to participate. This does not make Legion a bad larp or brand it “inaccessible.” No larp can be accessible to absolutely everyone, whether that be due to themes of trauma, the amount of physical activity it requires, or something else. But designers should be intentional about their design. It is ok to exclude people if the heart and goal of the larp simply would not ever be able to accommodate people with certain limitations – such as someone with severe asthma trying to play Luminescence (Finland 2004), a larp in a room full of flour. But if designers are able to open up their larps to people without compromising what the larp is actually about, they should bake that accessibility into their design.
You should be able to explain the state of your larp’s accessibility to yourself – what is it about the heart and soul of your larp that means some people will not be able to play it? Ideally, the people that your larp excludes are the same people who would not want to participate in your larp anyway and would agree that the larp would always be inaccessible to them, such as how Legion necessarily requires walking 25 kilometers as an intrinsic part of its design. Accessibility in larp is not about making every larp accessible for every person, but making them as accessible as their designers’ intrinsic visions allow them to be.
Of course, navigating player limitations takes different forms depending on the medium of the larp, whether it is played in person or online. Some people may experience severe concentration fatigue when larping over video chat, meaning that live-action online games are inaccessible to them due to the nature of the medium. Others have a much better experience larping online in the comfort of their own home, and find that they are less able to concentrate or larp “well” when attending an in person event.
We would be remiss to not also explicitly acknowledge psychological safety in this article. Accessibility is also about what a player can expect to experience during a larp, which becomes difficult if the larp has hidden features. In our opinion, knowing a secret beforehand will not diminish the ingame experience of keeping it or having it exposed. At Høstspillet (Denmark 2023, Eng. The Autumn Game), every character’s background and all lore material was open to everyone – their secrets, traumas, deals, alliances, ambitions, relations and topics. During sign-up, people could tick off boxes with what topics they didn’t want to play on. At the briefing, the organisers emphasized that “a safe larper is a good larper.” We believe that by helping players manage their expectations and giving them the agency of playing within the framework but also around individual pitfalls, you create not only safer larps but better larpers too.
There are as many limitation combinations as there are larpers. Ultimately, the decision on whether the larp is not accessible for someone comes down to the individual larpers themselves. People love knowing exactly what level of control and agency they do and do not have, and transparency in design choices will help each larper decide if a larp is accessible to them. Accessibility is not binary, even for one person. People can have different limitations at different times, and they have to make the choice on whether they can or cannot participate in a larp for themselves. Players want to be able to get everything that they can out of the larp experience, and satisfying play is achieved by having the access and agency you need to get the play you want, within the constraints of a larp that could allow for that play. Disabilities complicate this, but if the organisers have given thought to accessibility and how to support players in different ways, it will be much easier for all players to participate in the larp to the extent they wish to.
As a larp designer, it is not your responsibility to make your larp accessible to absolutely everyone. But you should try to make it as accessible as its core vision allows it to be. If the larp excludes someone, it should be because the heart of the larp truly cannot be realised in a way that allows them to participate, not because their needs were not thought about at all in the design process. Hopefully, the future of larp is one where the only reason someone would forgo a larp is because they simply wouldn’t want to participate in it in the first place.
Legion (2014): Czech Republic. Rolling o. s. et al.
Luminescence (2004): Finland. Juhana Pettersson, Mike Pohjola, & Mikko Pervilä.
This article has been reprinted with permission from the Solmukohta 2024 book. Please cite as:
Livesey-Stephens, Beatrix & Gundersen, Bjørn-Morten Vang. 2024. “Player Limitations and Accessibility in Larp.” In Liminal Encounters: Evolving Discourse in Nordic and Nordic Inspired Larp, edited by Kaisa Kangas, Jonne Arjoranta, and Ruska Kevätkoski. Helsinki, Finland: Ropecon ry.
At the end of 2019, I wrote an article on the commodification of larp (Seregina 2020), suggesting that larp has become a commodity and analysing the activity from a commodification point of view. The topic felt timely and sparked a lot of interesting and important discussions. In this article, I return to the topic of larp as a commodity, taking a look at it in a context that is defined by numerous crises. We are at a point in time where financial resources are becoming scarce for many, while a need for communal activities is high.
Before delving any deeper, it is central to note that the development of larp into a commodity is, in many ways, a logical development within contemporary society, a society which largely functions around consumption-oriented logic. This forms what is commonly referred to as consumer culture (see Slater 1997; Baudrillard 1998; Bauman 2001; Cohen 2003). Hence, the commodification of larp, in itself as a development, is neither good nor bad. It merely follows the development that has become commonplace within contemporary society. In fact, commodification comes with many positive aspects.
For example, a commodified larp becomes more accepted and legitimised in wider society, as it takes on familiar legal and financial forms, as well as clearer producer and consumer roles. Thus, in reflecting structures common in society and taking on a financial element, larp becomes a more ‘acceptable,’ ‘worthwhile’ use of one’s time. Commodified larps also gain more streamlined production processes, as elements become optimised and repeatable. Hence, creation and production of larp can become easier and faster (for more on this, see Seregina 2020). However, it is important to be aware of what these developments do to larp as a practice in its entirety, as the positives do not come without the negatives (no matter how hard we try).
The terms consumer and commodity can often feel cold and removed, and hence larpers often do not want to think about their beloved hobby as part of the market economy. However, ignoring the fact does not address any of the issues that the development of larp into a more commodified form brings with it, and may potentially even make them worse. While I do not believe commodification in itself is bad, I do believe that it can result in negative outcomes for our community if left unchecked. Hence, I would like to re-address the topic of larp as a commodity and reflect on what it means for larpers to become consumers.
Co-Creation of a Commodity
What exactly does larp as a commodity mean? Commodification is often incorrectly equated with paying money for something, as well as with passively interacting with something. However, it is more about the form of and attitude toward a thing (Campbell 1987; Slater 1997): larp becomes a commodity, as it becomes a resource within the exchange economy. In other words, it becomes valued not for what it is, but for what capital (whatever form this may take) it provides in exchange for people engaging in it. This capital is aimed at fulfilling a want or need, and can be financial, but also cultural or social capital, such as status or experience. The latter would be more common in the context of larp.
Following the above, co-creation or active participation does not exclude something being a commodity. Commodification rather becomes an issue of what participants (or now consumers) expect from the activity, and what their attitude toward it is. In fact, many traditional commodities are becoming co-created or gamified, as it has been shown that an actively interacting consumer is more engaged and thus more invested (for example, Oli Mould (2018) talks about the commodification of creativity overall). In that sense, larp fits perfectly into how contemporary markets are progressing.
As I explain in my 2020 article, larp has developed into a commodity via various characteristics and circumstances, including increased media coverage, rising growth and demand, as well as inclusion of elements from the market economy (such as catering, cleaning services, etc.). The latter ties into the idea of us ‘buying back’ our leisure time in order to use our time and resources more efficiently (following Frayne 2015). In essence, many convenience commodities, such as microwave meals or cleaning services, allow us to free up the time we would normally use to engage in their creation (such as cooking or cleaning). While ‘buying back’ time allows organisers and participants of larps to focus more on the larp itself instead of all the chores that come with it, it also means that we engage less materially with the practicalities of the event, thus tying larp into consumerist norms. In other words, as we ‘make’ less of the larp ourselves and together, it becomes created for us and thus removed from us as a commodity functioning through forms and structures of consumer culture.
Another important aspect of how larp becomes a commodity is rooted in how we talk about it. The past years have seen us change a lot of terminology and description of larp toward a more commodified and consumerist logic. Society in general is extremely performative, in that social meanings exist merely because we have decided to collectively give them these meanings, repeating the same meanings over and over (following Austin 1962, Turner 1987). Coming from this logic, things have meaning and status and value because we actively give them that meaning and status and value. For example, something is posh or stylish only because we have collectively decided that these things are posh or stylish. Hence, when we call larp participants “customers” or when we call sign-ups to larp “ticket purchases”, we further instill the essence of consumerism onto larp through wording it as such.
Photo by Pixabay, Pexels
The Customer is Always Right
If an activity becomes approached as a commodity, its user naturally takes on a consumer or customer role. This is a role that we are extremely accustomed to in today’s society, as we are acculturated into it within consumer culture, and take it on in many contexts (such as service and shopping situations, but also governance, education, and culture). Hence, we slip into the role of a consumer very easily, without necessarily recognising it as such.
The consumer role comes with its own preset modes of interaction with the service provider (in this case, the larp organiser), other service users (other larp participants), and the product itself (the larp). A consumer is driven by their wants and needs, and fulfills these by consuming products (Campbell 1987). While attending a larp may have a multitude of underlying goals (which I will not go into here), we could roughly sum these up as the want to have a good experience (whatever that is classified as). However, the consumer is only driven by their own needs and wants. This does not mean consumers become passive or exclusionary: as I mention above, a consumption experience can be very interactive and co-created. However, the end-goal of such an experience will always be one’s own experience, with other participants becoming a part of the background or potentially even seen as service providers along with the larp organiser. The co-creation will thus not be on equal terms, but rather as a consumer and producer, with the former holding a lot of power over the latter in terms of expectations and demands.
At the same time, the consumer relinquishes any responsibility over the product (following Slater 1997; Ritzer 2001; Cohen 2003). The product is created by the service provider, and hence its value is created during its production. However, the complex issue with larp is that its production and consumption are, in many ways, overlapping processes that cannot be distinguished or disentangled. We create larp as we consume it; forever an ephemeral process. As I noted in my 2020 article, in the long run, this loosening of responsibility may lead to collapse of communal larping as everyone merely focuses on their own experiences.
In itself the consumer role is in no way problematic, as long as it does not undermine the organiser and the other players. However, one big issue I see arising is what happens when someone has a bad time. Obviously, if it’s a safety concern or another similar matter, these need to be dealt with properly by the organiser. But what happens when someone does not have an experience that has lived up to their expectations? Or they don’t feel they’ve got their money’s worth? From a commodification point of view, the organiser should be fully responsible for the consumer having a good time, yet this is not necessarily feasible in the way larp is set up now. I address this further below.
Moreover, who will be seen as the producer? A larp organiser naturally falls into this role, even as they may not have as much power in it as a producer would traditionally. But what about the crew and the volunteers? And potentially even more active players participating alongside? This set-up may result in some players falling into the role of a service provider without actually having anything to do with the organisation of the larp, skewing power relations in dangerous ways among participants.
Pressure to Professionalise
Photo by Albin Biju.
There has been a strong push to organise larp more professionally and to view larp organisation as work (not to be confused with labour). This is, once again, a very logical development in contemporary consumption-oriented society, in which work is the ultimate form of status and legitimisation. No matter whether we like it or not, work is how we largely define our identities and our value within contemporary capitalist society (Frayne 2015; Mould 2018). Consequently, many fields such as larp that are initially not commercialised see a movement toward ‘careerisation’ of their practices (Seregina and Weijo 2017). When something becomes work, it also becomes more productive and profitable, and hence a more legitimate use of time. Simultaneously, the product of this activity also becomes more legitimised and a valuable use of one’s resources in the eyes of others. It is important to talk about professionalisation of an activity in the context of its commodification because consumption and work are two sides of the same coin, with one pushing the other.
Professionalisation can be seen in a few main ways within larp. Firstly, many directly want to turn larp-organising into a job. Secondly, professionalisation emerges in higher production value and use of support services. This includes a higher level of scenery, lighting, catering, and costuming, among other things. Lastly, larp is more and more often documented and merchandised. A lot of events are photographed and sometimes even filmed, and we also see a rise in possibilities of buying add-on products like t-shirts that advertise the event and/or can be used in-game. Such elements solidify what is otherwise an ephemeral performance, making it more of a produced material entity.
The result of professionalisation can be higher-value events, which can create amazing experiences for participants and organisers alike. The processes involved in it can further help make larp organisation easier, putting it into an easily and conveniently reproducible form.
At the same time, professionalisation of larp in many ways presents the activity as a commodity to those planning to attend. This means that (mostly indirectly) participants are getting the message that they should be approaching the event as a commodity, altering their expectations and attitude toward it. If larp organisation is presented as a for-profit job and larp takes on easily reproducible, mass produced characteristics, we cannot expect participants not to approach the event as something with which they have customer expectations and consumer rights. As a result, it becomes natural for the participant to focus only on their own experience and demand that the experience matches what was promised, cementing larp’s place as an element of market exchange within a capitalist system.
Professionalisation further requires streamlining and standardisation of activities, repeatability of events (or elements of events), as well as higher larp ticket costs in order to become economically viable. The first characteristics are central for pushing down costs for the organiser in order to attempt to make a profit, but run the risk of changing the nature of larp as quite ephemeral, interpersonal events. The latter is necessary to be able to pay organisers and crew for labour that is now their work. In reality, however, organisers and crew are rarely paid a wage, especially a fair one, often because of budgeting reasons. Hence, even for-profit larps largely rely on volunteers or low-pay workers, which, in turn, creates ample possibilities for misuse of labour (as well as potential legal issues with taxation and labour laws), once again skewing power relations within the community.
When organising a larp, it is important to reflect on how the event itself as well as the forms of production that it has involved impact larp as a community. The professionalisation of specific larp events reflects on the community as a whole, raising standards and expectations for all future events. This growth and expectations that come with it puts an immense amount of pressure onto larp organisers to provide events up to par, potentially creating organiser stress and burnout (something discussed a lot previously; see e.g., Lindve 2019, Pettersson 2022).
The Value of a Larp
In the above described context, monetary value becomes extremely complicated and potentially problematic. To begin with, higher cost of a larp easily becomes interpreted as the event providing a ‘better experience’ to the larper. In a consumer culture context, higher cost is generally associated with higher value and higher demand in our society. Moreover, limited access to larp in general makes the activity a scarce commodity, immediately making it intrinsically more valuable. This results in higher expectations on personal experience: participants feel that they are investing more financial capital and hence are entitled to reap more social and cultural capital from it.
The issue for larp specifically in this setup is that the organiser, in the long run, has limited capacity in making sure the player’s experience is of high value, as I’ve already noted. A good larp experience can depend on a large number of ever-changing elements, including but not limited to personal investment, engagement, and preparations; other participants and their contribution; weather, terrain, the venue, and associated travel. In a professionalised set-up, the service provider becomes responsible for all of this despite having little control over many elements that feed into a good experience.
Moreover, because larpers as consumers relinquish much of their responsibility over the event, they are more likely to focus on their own experience rather than aid others’. Hence, the inherent value that we gain from larp in some ways can be seen to actually go down in a commodified form because a good experience in larp largely relies on the interaction among and support of other larpers. In focusing solely on our own experiences, we expect more, but also give less. Other larpers easily become seen as a part of the commodity we are consuming, while organisers as well as any crew, volunteers, and NPCs will become seen as service providers.
Financial Inaccessibility
Photo by Evgeni Lazarev.
With raised costs of larping, a big issue that arises is financial inaccessibility. This is an extremely difficult subject, especially in light of everything else discussed, such as fair labour, and thus easily becomes the elephant in the room. Moreover, we, in many ways, have little control over rising costs, as overall rise in cost of living undoubtedly has its effects on larp organisation as well, reflecting in the prices of venues and catering to name a few things. Yet because any inaccessibility is viewed as bad, we seem to steer away from this conversation as a community.
It is important to stress that a costlier larp should not in any way be seen as bad. Most of the time, the attendance costs are merely covering any investment organisers have put in, which is only fair to ask for. However, if someone’s choice of whether or not to attend a larp is mainly or even solely dependent on the costs associated with that larp, that is, indeed, textbook financial inaccessibility. And we should not ignore that.
Many support systems already exist for financial inaccessibility, such as discounted and tiered tickets or payment in installments. These are definitely helpful and make larp more accessible to those with lower means. However, costly larps will remain costly (and most likely become even costlier); oftentimes even discounted tickets remain inaccessible. Sadly, there is little we can do about high costs, as I already noted. What we can do and what we need to do is be able to discuss these issues.
In line with a commodity point of view, a more expensive larp easily becomes viewed as better. Following this, those attending costlier, larger, better advertised, and thus ‘higher value’ larps can easily become seen as ‘better larpers,’ which creates problematic hierarchies and power structures within the community. Larps with higher production value also come with more hype, more discussion, and more coverage in media and social media, and thus, inadvertently, more social and cultural capital. Simply put, those who go to costlier larps and those who create costlier larps accrue more capital within the community (be it cultural, social, financial). Thus, while the fact that we pay more for larp does not directly make it a commodity, the fact that we reap more capital from costlier larps and use that capital within our community does.
At the same time, we see a certain subsection of larpers becoming priced out of the activity. More and more people are having to limit how many events they attend, or even stop going to larps entirely, due to financial reasons. We also see more and more of those from lower economic strata crewing and volunteering at events. While this is a great way to make an event financially accessible, if these roles are seen as service provider roles that attendees can demand from and take their frustrations out on, it will further skew power relations among larpers. Hence, financial inaccessibility runs the risk of creating wildly different ways people with different economic means can access larp, and they may be unable to access it at all.
Concluding Thoughts
Following my brief analysis of larp as a commodified activity, I’d like to wrap this article up with a few thoughts and suggestions. I want to begin by reiterating what I stressed in my 2020 article. Commodification in itself is not good or bad. However, we cannot reap its positive qualities without its negative characteristics, as many seem to try. Hence, we should question why we structure things the way we do – as larp organisers and as larp participants. As organisers, we should consider: what kinds of audiences do we reach, and what audiences will be able to access our larp? How are participants viewing the larp? How do they view their own role as part of the larp, and how do they view others attending the larp? What does commodification of larp bring to the event specifically? Is it valuable to you? And to the players attending, as well as the wider larp community?
As participants, we should similarly reflect on our role within the event. How am I taking part in the larp? How am I taking into consideration the organisers? The crew? Other players? What do I want to get out of the experience, how am I obtaining that, and who do I think is responsible for that?
We should also reflect on why we are pushing for professionalisation and thus commodification of larp. What is the purpose of this? Is it to create better events? Is it to gain legitimisation within wider society? Is it to create jobs?
Photo by Sora Shimazaki.
In 2020, I noted a fear of fragmentation of our community. Today, I definitely see more economic, social, and cultural inequalities within larp, as well as a growing divide between high cultural capital and low cultural capital events. I think we need to push hard for giving value to different kinds of larp, independent of their cost and production value or ‘type’ of larp (be it so-called Nordic larp, boffer larp, international larp, or localised larp groups, among various other types). We are running the risk of creating a hierarchy of larps in terms of what are seen to be ‘better’ larps than others: something that, at this point, often coincides with the market and production value of the event. In other words, costlier larps are currently associated with being higher culture and thus better than lower culture, cheaper larps.
Along with this divide, we bring growing class differences and potential skewed power relations among those attending and those who are organising; among those attending different types of events; among those who are attending on different terms (be it different ticket types; as volunteers, crew, players). We are already a very white, very middle-class activity, but with the cost of living crisis we are becoming even more so. Hence, it is critical to be aware of, reflect on, and aim to address these issues in organising larp. What’s more, all of the discussed issues will further tie into the acculturation of new larpers. What kind of community are we welcoming them into, and what kinds of roles will they be learning to take on?
Reflecting on one’s roles and actions can be difficult, especially for topics of commodification, which come to us quite naturally and unintentionally, yet can feel alien and cold, with people tending to push away or disassociate from them. But denying these issues does not remove consumption as a central structuring force of contemporary society. Its ideology remains, reinforced by our own actions. The aim of the reflexive actions I am suggesting is not to judge anyone, but rather to get larpers to understand their own choices when engaging in larping. Perhaps the reflection will not change anything, perhaps it will only change things a little, and perhaps it will change someone’s approach entirely. But I believe that by being conscious and aware of what we are doing as well as how our actions affect the activity of larping and the larp community as a whole, we will create a more inclusive and communal entity.
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Richard Schechner (1982): The End of Humanism: Writings on Performance. New York: PAJ Publications.
Anastasia Seregina and Henri A. Weijo (2016): “Play at any cost: How cosplayers produce and sustain their ludic communal consumption experiences.” Journal of Consumer Research. 44(1): 139-159.
Usva Seregina (2020): “On the Commodification of Larp,” Nordic larp. https://nordiclarp.org/2019/12/17/on-the-commodification-of-larp/, retrieved 1.8.2023
Victor Turner (1987): The Anthropology of Performance. New York: PAJ Publications.
This article has been reprinted with permission from the Solmukohta 2024 book. Please cite as:
Seregina, Usva. 2024. “Readdressing Larp as Commodity: How Do We Define Value When the Customer Is Always Right?” In Liminal Encounters: Evolving Discourse in Nordic and Nordic Inspired Larp, edited by Kaisa Kangas, Jonne Arjoranta, and Ruska Kevätkoski. Helsinki, Finland: Ropecon ry.
The digital world is a place of magic. It is a liminal space that can connect your home with other realms, gives you the power to summon things, grants you access to vast stores of knowledge and ideas, and allows you to be anyone and anything you choose.
Since the Covid-19 pandemic, mainstream larp has ventured into the magic of modern technology and what it has to offer. Many larp writers have begun to discover ways to use the varied online mediums and availability of transmedia technology to bring the extraordinary into bedrooms and living rooms. Digital larp has proven that it can be:
Immersive
Largely accessible
Profitable (when desired)
Transformative
Social
A laptop on a desk, screen up and waiting
Yet this is a medium which has long been used by larpers who have frequently found themselves unable to access the magic of in-person larps. Barriers of cost, time, distance, and mobility have led many people with caring or parental responsibilities, disabilities, or chronic conditions to seek alternative ways to larp through the use of online games. Through the magic of their computer screens, people have been quietly creating and transforming their own sacred spaces (Clapper 2018).
In this article, we seek to recognise the enchantments of these accessible spaces and some of the reasons why you should consider using the silicon screen to create and share the magic of larp.
1. Portals
Digital larp refers to online roleplaying experiences where the majority of the interaction is character-to-character; i.e. non-narrated (Clapper 2019). For larpers with accessibility needs, digital larp can be a necessary gateway to social gaming – and one often dismissed by some able-bodied larpers, especially prior to the pandemic.
There are some who combat the use of the word larp to describe digital larping (also known by other monikers such as online larp, remote larp, and e-larp). Game designer Gerrit Reininghaus invented and popularised the term LAOG (Live Action Online Games), viewing digital larp as enough of a distinctive format to merit a new term (Reininghaus 2019). While there are potential advantages to using a different label to highlight the features of the online experience, many who oppose online larping consider it a less legitimate format, which we feel provides an ableist perspective.
Screenshot of contestants in the Astrovision Song Contest (2020) about to perform
Digital larp can be used to create an immersive portal into another realm. In Dealmakers and Dreamers (2018), the computer screen represents the dream world, and players use masks and dreams to create an ethereal atmosphere. In both CHARIOT (2017) and ViewScream (2013), the screen is integrated into the worldmaking itself, becoming a video screen on a spaceship. As in in-person larp, participants of video-based games will usually wear appropriate costumes for immersion. It is also common for participants to either rearrange the objects they choose to be in view, or to make use of background images to show scenes that would be more difficult to re-create in-person.
In CHARIOT (2017) characters on starships speak through screens, making the computer diegetic
2. Magic Mirrors
During the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020 onwards, larpers around the world gained extra accessibility requirements due to the loss of safety in in-person gatherings, additional difficulties with travel, and higher financial strain (Ebuenyi 2020). In addition to the expanded accessibility options in other features of life such as an increased capability to work at home, our societies discovered that while different, it is entirely possible to larp at home. The use of digital larp expanded significantly, leading to many new digital designers to experiment with different ways of using the online medium. For many seeking remote work status and advocating for digital larp as a means of physical accessibility, their needs suddenly became the world’s needs, and therefore more acceptable. As a result, many such gamers have found themselves with many more opportunities to take part in larp.
Digital larp designers have played with the idea of using the features of video chat clients to provide different visual experiences. In Makeup Moments (2019), participants use the mirror-like image of themselves on the call to mimic an actual mirror as their characters get ready for a night out. Players in The Batcave (2020) turn their cameras upside down to create the appearance of a colony hanging from the roof of a cave. Outscored (2019) uses changes in the screen image to visibly alter the lighting in a dark room, varying players’ light levels as a way to visually reflect their respective social standing.
Screenshot from Outscored; the game mechanic causes lighting to vary, a visual reminder of character scores.
3. Scrying
Your digital screen is a crystal ball that allows you a glimpse into another location. Its use allows digital larps to span countries and continents, granting distant players who do not have easy access to transportation a chance to play. Larpers facing disabilities, chronic illnesses, and mental health concerns have been historically prominent users of digital larps, as most digital larps only require the participant to remain stationary in a chair or bed.
Like most scrying devices, the screen grants a limited view. This grants a potentially enticing feature: it is possible to imply events taking place ‘off screen’. In Disconnected (2020), players are encouraged to ”vanish off screen and return to report something strange, and blame technical glitches on the breaking reality”. Tale As Old As Space (2020) instructs players to ”move to different spots if you are able, or otherwise find different camera angles, letting your camera angles change wildly as your character runs to reach the next spot before you are caught”.
Screenshot of The Inhabitant in Tale As Old As Space making use of costume and backgrounds.
4. Hearth and Home
A digital larp brings the game into the protective circle of hearth and home. For some players this can allow them to create a safe space containing their own accessibility devices. The ability to switch off video or microphone at any time and the control over their space is helpful for people with anxiety disorders or sensory issues. Additionally, in some areas of the world, it is not always possible for every player to feel moderately safe at physical larp locations, particularly for marginalised participants.
A number of digital larps have taken advantage of the integration with the home circle to create a sense of intimacy. Sanctuary Avalon (2020) used ritual and guided meditation to invoke spirituality and allow participants to explore themselves within the safety of their own spaces. In Live Online Raptor Experience (2020), players who are able may use their devices while walking through a house or other location, creating a mobile ‘on the scene’ effect.
Participants in Sanctuary Avalon performing a ritual and guided meditation.
5. Time Travel
Scheduling and travel time are difficult for many larpers, but digital larps can take place in one or more sessions in front of the computer. This makes larp more accessible for some parents and caregivers, who are disproportionately more likely to be of marginalised genders. It offers a shorter, more manageable time commitment for people with chronic health conditions or limited energy.
The House (2012) was one of the earliest digital larps, based on reality TV shows where contestants compete to be the last remaining inhabitant of a shared household. In this game, players record daily videos in which their character speaks to the audience about their experiences and their opinion of the other contestants, allowing for asynchronous play and looser time constraints. Uneasy Lies The Head (2020) is another vlog-based game with flexible timing; characters post vignettes as short video blogs which can then be commented on as other players speculate on answers to questions and rumours.
Characters in text-based game Thread explore links between theology and the labyrinth.
6. Fairy Gold
Digital larps are typically free or inexpensive, especially when compared to in-person larps. Even when run for a profit, digital larps require lower overhead and less resources; for example, there is no need to hire a venue, feed players, or purchase site-based insurance. This can make them more accessible for players with lower incomes.
Digital larps can make use of inexpensive or even free technologies and resources to supplement the main game. Animus: The Eternal Circle (2020) uses a mixture of bots and websites to provide a puzzle element that unlocks extra plot and allows players to discover literal virtual connections to weave a feeling of connection to a larger force. Thread (2020) utilises background soundtracks and philosophical bots to invoke ancient myth and play with existential questions intrinsically linked to the online medium. And Tale As Old As Space includes password-protected files that are gradually opened to provide new information during the course of the game.
7. Telepathy
While in-person interaction favours personalities who are more extroverted and confident, a recent study found that online communication favoured more organised goal-oriented types (Purvanova et al. 2020). Other studies have found that gender can also be a factor; female-presenting people are more able to be assertive in virtual negotiations (Stuhlmacher et al. 2007). The differences in communicating online could mean that quieter players, who struggle to have their spotlight moment in in-person larp, get a chance to shine.
Video is not the only medium for digital communication. Tankers (2020) uses audio-only while players lie in a dark room to create an experience simultaneously intimate and set in the vastness of space. As We Know It (2015) is a game played entirely by text message as survivors of an alien invasion try to connect with each other. Another possibility is to use video and text communication for different purposes; for example, After Dark (2020) allows dead characters to communicate by text chat after their video is turned off, and Disconnected uses text chat as a method for the facilitator to pass out-of-game guidance to the players during video-based scenes.
8. Running out of Spell Slots
While digital larping is generally more accessible for larpers with disabilities, some have reported challenges. For players with visual impairments or hearing loss, over-reliance on either sound or images can create extra difficulties. Ideally, game designers should ensure that information can be accessed in other ways; use image descriptions and use text that can be read by text readers. In video play, ask players to display strong emotional signals and show their mouth clearly when speaking.
Larpers with autism, ADHD, and auditory processing difficulties have noted that video platforms or fast scrolling text can challenge their ability to focus and comprehend. Neurotypical players can also find sustained engagement challenging: “Video chats mean we need to work harder to process non-verbal cues like facial expressions, the tone and pitch of the voice, and body language; paying more attention to these consumes a lot of energy” writes Manyu Jiang (2020) for BBC. This means that digital larps must be run, if not designed, with video chat fatigue in mind.
9. Divination
The use of technology in larp and games containing partial digital experiences has been increasingly used in recent years (Segura 2017), and it is possible that this trend will continue towards integration with digital larp design, allowing some players to take part entirely remotely.
Larp studios aren’t the only organizations pivoting towards online experiences in the wake of the pandemic; theatres, escape rooms, and other immersive experiences have moved to online environments in creative ways. And there are many others who play with the construction of identity online to create larp-like experiences, though most of these would not call this larp (Manavis 2019). As these experiences become more widespread, there may be a cross-pollination of ideas and techniques.
It is our hope that digital larp experiences will continue, following the cessation of the global pandemic. Now that more players have experienced larping on digital platforms, it’s time to normalize the legitimization of digital larp and to recognize the considerable flexibility and accessibility digital larps provide to many participants.
References
Clapper, Tara M. 2018. “5 Things I Learned about Running Digital Larps.” TGI. https://geekinitiative.com/digital-larp-experiences/
Clapper, Tara M. 2019. “What is Digital Larp?” TGI. https://geekinitiative.com/tgilarps /what-is-a-digitallarp-faq/
Ebuenyi, Ikenna D., Emma M. Smith, Catherine Holloway, Rune Jensen, Luc´ıa D’Arino, Malcolm MacLachlan. 2020. “Covid-19 as Social Disability: The Opportunity of Social Empathy for Empowerment.” BMJ Global Health 5, no. 8: e003039.
Jiang, Manyu. 2020. “The Reason Zoom Calls Drain Your Energy.“ BBC, April. https://-www. Bbc com/worklife/article/20200421-why-zoom-video-chats-areso-exhausting
Manavis, Sarah. 2019. “Why Young People are Turning to Online Live-action Roleplay.” New Statesman (July).
Purvanova, Radostina K., Steven D. Charlier, Cody J. Reeves, and Lindsey M. Greco. 2020. “Who Emerges into Virtual Team Leadership Roles? The Role of Achievement and Ascription Antecedents for Leadership Emergence Across the Virtuality.” Journal for Business And Psychology (June): 1-21.
Reininghaus, Gerrit. 2019. “A Manifesto for LAOGs Live Action Online Games.” Nordiclarp.org, June 14. https://nordiclarp.org/2019/06/14/a-manifesto-for-laogs-live-action-online-games/
Segura, Elena Marquez, Katherine Isbister, Jon Back, and Annika Waern. 2017. “Design, Appropriation, and Use of Technology in Larps” In Proceedings of the 12th International Conference on the Foundations of Digital Games, FDG ’17, New York, NY, USA. Association for Computing Machinery.
Stuhlmacher, Alice F., Maryalice Citera, Toni Willis. 2007. “Gender differences in virtual negotiation: Theory and research.” Sex Roles 57, no. 5-6: 329-339.
Being neurodivergent often means walking into the world with misunderstanding as a certainty. Everyone expects you to respect and abide by rules unstated and unknown to you. As an autistic person, larp has brought me places where the rules are shared and I can have the same language as others. And for someone who didn’t have a voice for so long, being able to communicate, feel, and create with others is more than just a little magic.
Through a series of testimonies illustrated by drawings we hope to raise awareness and bring acceptance in our larp communities on the difficulties encountered by the neurodivergent players both in life and in play. Here we have chosen to focus on people who have been diagnosed with ASD and/or ADHD.
While all neurodivergent experiences are different, you might find these testimonies are quite similar to each other. These correspondences demonstrate our deep similarities, the needs and traits that must be highlighted for neurotypical players and organizers to reach understanding and recognition of their neurodivergent counterparts. I’m also aware that those testimonies are personal statements that don’t account for all of neurodivergent players’ ways to relate and feel toward the larp experience.
What is the core of the neurodivergent players’s experience of larp?
What can we learn from each other?
What can we teach to neurotypical players and organizers?
What do we need from them?
Finding Magic in the Dark
LolV Peregrin
The autism spectrum encompasses a range of neurodevelopmental conditions, generally known as autism spectrum disorders (ASD). Individuals on the autistic spectrum experience difficulties with social communication and interaction and also exhibit restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activities.
–Wikipedia, “Autism Spectrum”
I grew up difficult. I was a difficult child and a difficult teenager.
The world was a maze. I felt I was the only one without a map.
Everyone seems to have figured their way out.
So I built my own world, full of all the things I liked.
I had an interest in magic, spells, witches. A specific one.
I’ve been labeled unhinged and crazy.
Because
I thought animals were better than people,
I walked bare feets,
My face was strange,
Because I looked for magic.
I felt too much, or not enough.
I am autistic, not a puzzle, therefore I can’t fit or be solved.
I hate unpredictability,
I wanted to be in control somehow, to understand what was happening.
To switch the narrative.
To find magic, dreamt and remembered.
My strong emotions,
my intense personality,
my ability to mask and interpret roles constantly:
It made larp the perfect environment for me.
A place where while we all wear masks I could finally forsake mine.
Role-play and Larp have brought me places where the rules are shared
and I can have the same language as others. Finally.
And for someone who didn’t have a voice for so long, being able to communicate, feel
and create with others is more than just a little magic.
My ADHD
Charlie Haldén
I instantly think of how my ADHD partly turns into something that makes me great at larping — that larp is a world that my brain is perfectly suited to (in ways), and how that is magic. My impulsive traits, spontaneity, the superpower of being totally in the moment – stuff that can make life outside difficult but fits perfectly with larp.
Always Playing a Role
Lea Elias
Many people on the autism spectrum feel obliged to pretend not to have autism. They invest considerable effort daily in monitoring and modifying their behavior to conform to conventions of non-autistic social behavior. This phenomenon has come to be called masking, compensation and pretending to be normal. Masking is exactly what it sounds like, simply putting on a metaphorical mask. In many cases of the autism spectrum, that mask is a neurotypical (“normal”) one. It is when someone on the spectrum either consciously or subconsciously hides the telltale signs they are on the autism spectrum.
— Bahar Ateş, “Masking in Autism: Social Camouflaging”((Ateş, Bahar, “Masking in Autism: Social Camouflaging,” Good Autism School, last retrieved April 17. 2021 from https://goodautismschool.com/autism-masking/ ))
As an autistic person, I am, in a way, always playing a role.
It’s an experience not unique to people on the autism spectrum, but I’ve never met a neurotypical person who understood just how tiring it is to be born into a world where the way you express yourself is completely nonsensical to other people.
And vice versa, that the way other people express themselves, through tone, body language, and facial expressions, makes no sense to you, while pretty much everyone else appears to have an instinctual understanding of what the hell is going on.
To survive in that world, you need to become very adept at studying and copying the behavior of other people. In order to appear acceptable, I’ve developed into a chameleon; In seconds I can change my tone of voice, sense of humor, dialect, mannerisms et cetera.
While tiring in my day-to-day life, it’s proved very useful in larps, and I’ll often joke that the main difference between real life and larp is for me that having a character sheet makes the process of figuring out what role I’m expected to play much simpler.
Many Differences…
Cecilia Dolk
There are many differences between people that are on the spectrum, just as we are all different human beings. What is a struggle for me can be something that another person the spectrum has no problem with – at all.
As a producer and being diagnosed as an adult with both ADHD and autism, I finally can understand why some parts of producing feels natural and easy for me. It also makes so much more sense why I feel so much more comfortable visiting and participating in a larp and then going to a dinner party, birthday party, or just traveling to a new place.
Why, you may wonder?
The rules and expectations are equal within a larp since I don’t have an autopilot when it comes to social rules or boundaries, a larp setting – before – during, and after – is giving me the opportunity to participate on the same starting point as a person that is not on the spectrum.
Photo by Rebecca Burgess of Autism Spectrum.
To explain how my mind may be a bit different than yours, I don’t think in words, I think in pictures. My mind is like “google for images” and I attend to details – I mean all the details. Let me give you an example – If someone asks you to think of a shoe, your mind thinks of a generic one. Instead, my mind thinks of specific ones, one at a time or as a video that shows stuff on YouTube.
When it comes to new information and making decisions, my mind is like an international airport but I don’t have a staff running it. I have to manually do everything on my own, while for most other people it’s on autopilot. This happens so quickly in my mind and it makes me exhausted quickly and suddenly sometimes when I’m in a new situation.
I also feel sounds, I feel structures, but it isn’t scary or uncomfortable it can just be too much.
So, now you know a little bit of how my mind works, and many of these traits make me a kick ass as a producer – mostly because I remember details and not making assumptions on things. I run all different versions of the outcomes in my mind while I even may be talking to someone!
I can see and feel a budget work or not in my mind, logistics, and timetables – it’s like it’s there on my own internal whiteboard.
There is something that you can help your fellow larper with if they are on the spectrum, this is things that help everyone but for me, it’s the thing that decides on how much energy I will have during the larp. These things are often the difference for me on how much I can participate until I’m crashing and need to rest.
Clear schedules – with times and what will happen during that time.
Clear expectations – what do I need to do and when.
Pictures and signs – an emoji next to a text can help our minds so much!
Knowledge beforehand – show pictures of the venue and describe where I will have my sleeping quarters.
Also — sometimes it’s more comfortable being NPCs just because we get a clear picture of the run time schedule! Take that in consideration if you can offer that to some people before the game
A place to recharge if the sleeping quarters are being in-game at all times.
A clear structure of the website and if there is much information to read, it’s not a bad thing to have someone do an audio recording or be there to read it with a person. I know it’s much to ask – but maybe a volunteer can help with that and make it accessible for more people to join.
Friendly reminders – if you have a deadline coming up and ask if they need any help!
Be clear with changes before, during, and after, over explain is better than vague.
Arrange someone in the coordination staff that can be a safe person and/or a person to ask questions that is focused to help people on the spectrum. It’s helped me tremendously to have someone that understands since the stigma and misunderstanding are making us mask and try to fit in.
Ask – ask – ask. Ask us if you can do something to help, but also be clear that we may say “no”.If you do not have knowledge of how to adapt and create more accessible – ask for help – we will be so grateful to contribute knowledge that we have to create a better experience for us all.
A community is made up of a group of individuals and the larp community is particularly broad, encompassing people who take part in a range of different activities that come under the heading of larp. These can be vastly different, ranging from competitive larp, to larp with immersion as a goal, to solo larps and larps with thousands of participants. Possibly the only thing that the members of the larp community have in common is that they adopt a character to participate. The differences in what larp is can make discussions of community difficult to frame.
This year, the majority of larps including one of mine have been cancelled due to COVID. When the organizers announced their decision to disappointed players, they were met with almost universal support. When I postponed my larp, in addition to supportive players saying that they understood, and it was the right decision on the social media post, and in response to e-mails, I also received several private messages acknowledging that it must be disappointing for me. There was no expectation of me to manage other people’s emotions – just recognition that it was a difficult decision. This is an example of when a community comes together.
However, the community can also have issues. We can perceive “the larp community” as a separate entity that we are not part of, particularly when trying to address the problems that it has. In this view the individual has no responsibility and the community as a whole, sometimes presumed to be guided by influential people, needs to change and improve – to be more inclusive and less toxic.
At the other extreme it’s an unhelpful message to say that, as the community is made up of individual larpers, its problems can be addressed by each person at an individual level. An individual can only do so much and telling larpers to address every problem in the community by themselves is at best naive and at worst ableist.
There are some activities that can, and as far as possible should, be taken by individuals to help improve the larp community as a whole.
Educate Yourself as a Designer and Player.
Consider what choices you’ve made around accessibility and why. Read up on why, even if you aren’t actively excluding people, they may feel excluded. You are always going to exclude some groups unless you get very lucky with logistics, e.g.:
Looking for locations accessible to people with certain disabilities may increase your price range;
Your 20Km hike larp isn’t going to work for people with certain disabilities or who don’t have a certain level of fitness;
Your horror larp may not be accessible for people with certain mental health issues;
Casting by lottery is going to exclude players who are anxious to go without their friends; and
First come first served sign ups may limit access to people who are working or have childcare responsibilities or just a slower computer during the sign up period.
You need to understand and be mindful about this rather than falling into exclusion by default.
Be Helpful and Inclusive, Including with the Organisers and Volunteers.
If you’re going to a larp or a festival, chances are none of the organizers or volunteers are being paid for what they’re doing: in practice, the volume of labour that the organizers have put in is going to be far more than is covered by the ticket prices. One way to contribute is to be helpful and inclusive. Entitled behaviour is stressful for organizers and volunteers. When attending a larp consider what you can do to help, for example being inclusive of new players, helping with setting up and taking down, and ensuring that your communication with organizers and volunteers is polite and non- aggressive.
Be Aware of What’s Required for the Larp You’re Attending.
The majority of larps require active engagement. The is likely to include creative collaboration and working with other participants to creative a narrative that is satisfying for everyone participating. This is not to say everyone has to be the perfect larper, or always in a supporting role – but consideration for other’s experience is necessary. Also, you may decide that what’s required isn’t something you can offer or something that you would enjoy. For example, if there is a requirement that costuming is authentic and you don’t particularly enjoy costuming you may decide that the larp isn’t for you.
Don’t Use Larp as an Alternative to Therapy.
Although larp can be transformative, it isn’t therapy. Treating it as such may have a negative impact on the participant’s psychology. For example, the participant may discover after a scene that they have tried to use a character to explore personal issues and misjudged the long term impact, or forced themselves to play a scene relating to personal trauma, expecting it to be helpful, only to realise that they should have listened to their feelings of discomfort. This is not to say that larp can’t have a psychologically positive impact, but if the participant is trying to work on a specific issue, they should do it with the assistance of a professional. It is also unfair to use your fellow players as adjuncts in your own journey without their knowledge or consent.
Understand and Use Safety Tools in Larps. Normalize their Use.
Participants should never feel uncomfortable about prioritising their own comfort and safety over a scene. If they need to use safety tools to leave a scene that should be considered unremarkable. Organizers should make this clear, but it’s also the duty of other participants to respect tools as they are used and allow play to continue around them.
Be Aware and Considerate.
People have different privileges, opportunities, and energy, which make certain actions easier or more difficult – the important thing is to be aware of yourself and how you relate to others. Some problems you can’t solve on your own but you can be part of the solution.
Reach Out to New Players.
Or if you’re a new player, reach out to people that you’ve had interesting conversations with. Don’t feel it should be the other person’s responsibility – people don’t always have the energy to initiate contact, regardless of their standing in the community.
Accept “No” Gracefully.
Whether it’s playing a certain scene, being involved in a collaboration, or to hooking up after a larp.
Examine Your Own Behaviour.
In terms of general talk of toxicity in the community – check you’re not part of this. There are people who may not recognize that they are actively acting in toxic ways, and examining our own behaviour is always useful. There is also a passive part of this where we might allow toxic behaviour within larps we run, or defend people after someone has disclosed difficult, abusive, or toxic behaviour on their part because they are a friend, or respected in the community. If you have done either of these they aren’t necessarily insurmountable obstacles to you being part of the community but do what you need to do to change.
Look at Who’s Being Held Accountable.
Sometimes talking about the community being toxic can disguise specific bad actors. Look at who’s being held accountable. This is not to say that anyone is obliged to name and confront an abuser.
The magic of community and of finding a place to belong is powerful. I have been very fortunate to have people around me who have supported me in learning and continuing to learn how to better myself and the community around me, while making the process of discovery fun. One of the unique aspects of larp is the emotions that are invoked during play that allow us to be vulnerable with people who we don’t know outside of their character. Such vulnerability is both what we must protect by educating ourselves on safety, and what we can use to become more compassionate and helpful members of any community, starting with the larp one.
This article will be published in the upcoming companion book Book of Magic and is published here with permission. Please cite this text as:
Wood, Laura. “Why Larp Community Matters and How We Can Improve It.” In Book of Magic, edited by Kari Kvittingen Djukastein, Marcus Irgens, Nadja Lipsyc, and Lars Kristian Løveng Sunde. Oslo, Norway: Knutepunkt, 2021. (In press).
With the pandemic preventing us from larping in the flesh, more and more designers have been running games online. These experiences are not only highly immersive and engaging, but also have the tremendous potential to make games accessible for a wider variety of players who may be excluded from mainstream, face-to-face larps.
For example, the larp TANKERS by Sarah Cook is designed to be played while blindfolded and lying down – much easier for someone with chronic fatigue or migraines to engage with than an in-person game. Similarly, Plug In by Stephen Duxbury – as reimagined by Wrenna Robson and Nat Saunders – is played in real time completely via text, making it ideal for those of us who struggle with speech.
As the Bobbit Worm team, we’ve designed and run three online larps so far (The Nautical Trench, T67 Survival Night, and UPLOAD) and are working on a fourth. When we started running immersive games and larps online, it became clear that new and exciting accessibility challenges were emerging, despite the benefits of this medium. Although you won’t have to deal with a venue made entirely out of stairs, you may be adding a typing element that’s a nightmare for dyslexic participants.
In this article, we want to outline some of the methods we have included in our games to help make them more accessible.
Hazel and Erin sharing post-game icecreams (photo, Hazel Dixon)
Pre-Game
When running a game online, it’s still important to treat the physical and emotional wellbeing of your players with care. You should take responsibility for this the same way as you would for a game in a physical space – ask players about their disabilities, triggers, and what accommodations would help them to access your game, and make sure to keep that information somewhere secure but easily accessed. We find this blog post on Access: Larp on how to ask and how to tell to be quite useful.
However, using online platforms adds a layer of complexity. Make sure to clearly inform your players of how to use the technology you’ve chosen. It’s a great idea to include optional software testing beforehand, for anyone who is unsure or worried about using the tech involved in the game. Whilst playing the game, always have a way for players to contact you on a different platform – such as by email or over the phone – so that if they have technical issues they can still contact you to let you know.
If the game involves documents or files, these should be accessible in multiple formats should a player require them. For example, make sure to prepare transcripts of audio/video files, provide image descriptions, and remember that screenshots and some ways of formatting text files aren’t accessible to everyone.
Text-based considerations
When you’re including text-based elements in your game – whether that’s doing the game entirely via text or allowing players to message each other during your game – bear in mind that players may have problems processing text quickly, typing quickly or typing accurately.
We’ve found that a lot of people are anxious about taking part in games with typing elements, because they perceive themselves as having bad typing, or have disabilities such as chronic hand pain that make it difficult for them to type quickly. We mention in our code of conduct that no one should comment on or shame other players for incorrect grammar/spelling or slow response times.
In addition, if you are letting players upload videos or gifs, remind them to avoid uploading images that flash more than once per second, as these can trigger migraines or epileptic seizures.
Video-based considerations
Video calls, while a great substitute for being in a physical space together, can present their own specific accessibility challenges. For example, deaf people and autistic folks with auditory processing issues may find it difficult to participate if they can’t lip read or see the facial expressions of others; so making sure players have their video switched on and the camera facing them can help them to access video communications.
It’s important to keep in mind a few simple ways to keep video calls a welcoming space for everyone: background noise and feedback can be reduced by wearing headphones or using push to talk; hand gestures and other forms of body language can be made more visible with careful camera framing; players can avoid talking over each other by staying conscious of whether anyone is trying to speak. All of these can mitigate common issues if you bear them in mind, although it’s likely that you won’t be able to keep on top of them all the time. In general, aim for pairing a visual or auditory cue with something else. The word cut can be used in conjunction with crossing your arms across your chest, for example. Leave the option open for players to message each other if they need to communicate and calibrate or to post messages in an open channel.
In a lot of physically co-located games, we end up with natural breaks in action that allow us to collect ourselves and be alone to a certain extent. When it comes to online games, there is more of a feeling of being “always on” that can be overwhelming for some. You can help with this by managing the spaces in your platform. We try to ensure that we have enough separate rooms so people can split off into groups of 2–4 if they need to. As well as this, you can utilise an off game channel to allow players to take a break in a quieter space, and by making sure to stress that anyone is free to leave the space at any time for any reason.
Another consideration is that some video conferencing software, such as Google Meet, will allow you to have automatic live captioning which you may find helpful for people with auditory processing problems. Zoom has now added closed captioning which you can integrate with third-party captioning software and you can find out more about this process on the Zoom Help Centre.
Conclusion
Different games will have different requirements, and it’s important to both consider what you’re trying to do with your game and to work with the players to provide them with the best experience you can. We still have a lot of work to do and a lot of unanswered questions, such as how to make our games easier to play on an unstable internet connection and how to replace some of the physical cues that aren’t easy to communicate over video. Even so, we want to dare you to dream big on accessibility. Immersive experiences are pretty damn cool, and we want as many people as possible to have the opportunity to experience that.
Ludography
Bobbit Worm Games, T67:// Survival Night (2020)
Bobbit Worm Games, The Nautical Trench (2020)
Bobbit Worm Games, UPLOAD (2020)
Cook, Sarah, Tankers (2020)
Duxbury, Stephen, reimagined by Wrenna Robson and Nat Saunders, Plug In (2020)
Disclaimer: The opinions expressed herein are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Nordiclarp.org or any larp community at large.
I’ve got a pretty lousy memory, but I remember a lot of firsts in my life.
I remember the first time I got a solo in a choir performance. I was so excited, I could hardly stand it. I remember going in to get fitted for my costume and the seamstress frowning. “She can’t be up front,” she said, “what’s that going to look like? Put her in the back row.” I didn’t realize then she meant because I was fatter than the other girls. I didn’t figure that out until a bully in my class made it abundantly, loudly clear at recess the very next day.
I remember trying out for the role of Ms. Hannigan in Annie. I told the drama teacher I wanted to be on Broadway when I got older. “You’ll need to lose weight for that,” she said, “being heavy doesn’t work on Broadway.” I didn’t learn until later she, herself overweight, had tried to be on Broadway once. Learned from experience, I guess.
I remember the first time I got up the nerve to ask a guy out in college. It was at a sorority party at a bar. He was a little drunk. We’d been hanging out for weeks. I’d been over his house, we’d talked video games, I thought he was wonderful. When I asked him, out in the rain, I’ll never forget what he said. “Sorry. But you know how some people don’t like some kinds of porn? I don’t like fat people porn.” I never spoke to him again.
I remember. I might not remember what I ate for lunch two days ago or where I left my bag some days, but I remember every damn comment. Every doctor who never took me seriously and told me I just needed to lose weight. I remember every comment, every time I got laughed at in the street. Stories like those are memories worn into my mind. I won’t forget them any time soon.
But there are good memories too.
I’m going to tell a story here about a poignant fat-related story. And then I’ll get to my point. I was at an event where a number of small larps were being showcased. I signed up for one game because it abstracted emotions and events using music, which I thought was cool. Little did I know until too late that the game was about relationships, people falling in and out of love. I panicked. I was afraid of seeing the disgust in someone’s eyes knowing they’d have to date a fat girl in character. I was so cautious and scared it almost made me leave the game. But I stuck it out. And in that game, a guy I didn’t know at all played my love interest with such care it made me glow. When he stood up and asked me to slow dance, I nearly burst into tears. It was all I was able to do not to step on his toes. I’d never slow danced with a man before. I’d never had the chance.
Larps have given me experiences that escaped me in my life because of a lot of social anxiety due to weight. I experienced what it was like to be a woman in a position of power, confident and powerful, when before I would hide. I got a chance to be on the arm of the most handsome men and women at a game. I’ve had the chance to play out love stories, stories of triumph. To lead battles and armies. To learn to be confident in my own skin.
Teaching at New World Magischola (photo, Learn Larp LLC)
To play a badass teacher at Wizard School (Photo: New World Magischola)
I’ve also had a guy at a convention game look at me and then go to a game organizer and say he needed to trade characters because “I would never date THAT.” He was meant to play my husband.
I’ve had a guy meant to be an enemy of mine in a game say, “I’d feel bad beating you up, I can run rings around your fat ass.”
I had a woman tell me I wasn’t allowed to play a sidhe in a Changeling: the Dreaming larp because “there aren’t any fat sidhe.” (Joke’s on her who helped put THAT change in the 20th-anniversary edition, but hey…)
I remember a lot of stories about what it’s like to be fat in this world. And to be fat in the larp world too. And I have only one thing to say about it after all these years:
I’m not too fat for your larp.
Shoshana Kessock (photo, Dystopia Rising: New Jersey)
Because screw you, I’m a goddamn badass. You heard me. Larp is a fantastic place, a blank canvas upon which to build whole new worlds, worlds where you decide the structures, the rules, the norms. And as the designers, writers, organizers, and producers of games, it is in your power to challenge the status quo of how fat people are treated in your games. You have the power to make the decisions about how people are treated in your community and in play based on the atmosphere you cultivate and the games you design. So why do so many games still have atmospheres where people who are fat are mistreated? Where being fat marginalizes the positions you’re allowed to have? Or the fun you’re allowed to enjoy?
The simple matter is being fatphobic and hurtful against fat people is the last socially accepted bigotry enacted by almost every single group anywhere. Otherwise progressive communities and marginalized populations will still turn inward on fat members and harass, shame, ostracize, or minimize them when they would never consider letting that treatment go unchallenged to their own group. We as a society celebrate striving for tolerance in much of our media, giving us feel-good messages about love and kindness and acceptance with one hand, and making awful fat jokes with the other. And this same process happens everywhere, in every subculture group. Including larp.
Shoshana Kessock (photo, Shoshana Kessock)
Don’t be that person. Just don’t.
The problem is universal and yet hits different groups disproportionately. For example, it’s no secret that fatphobia affects women disproportionately more than men (although mistreatment of fat men is absolutely a thing). Women are put under the lens, pulled apart by people of every gender for the way they look, and their fat pointed out at every turn. Yet in a medium where we create our worlds, why is this still the case? Because we bring our bigotries with us. And in a real world where we can’t imagine not picking everyone apart for that stray pound, why the hell would you not do it in your games?
Because it’s not right. And by continuing to do so, you’re creating hostile larp environments. Even if your game purports to be progressive, if you don’t consider fat bigotry in your events and designs, you’re not making progressive environments that are equal for all. You’ve failed in your inclusivity.
Here’s a handy dandy list of how you might mess up at including size discrimination in your larp. We’ll call it the “If You ________ Then Your Game Might Be Fatphobic.”
If you don’t have any fat people playing characters of social status or power.
If you don’t cast fat players in romantic roles.
If you design costume requirements for games which won’t allow fat people to participate comfortably (such as providing costumes for the event and make the sizes inaccessible to fat people).
If you use fatphobic language in your game descriptions of characters (associating fat with evil, slovenly, lazy, disgusting, etc.)
If you encourage social stratification based on appearance in your games.
If you do not use people of all sizes in your larp promotion, instead relying on people who represent only the status quo in your advertisements and documentation.
If you make being fat an accommodation one must ask for when participating rather than considering people of all sizes from the beginning.
If you allow fatphobic comments or mistreatment to continue on in your game, either from other players or from your staff. (Bonus points on this one if you accept “being fat is unhealthy” as an excuse).
If you adjust the power dynamic of a character being played by a fat player once they’ve been cast because they’re fat.
If you accept bullying in character based on someone being fat and accept that as just the status quo (bonus points if you make a whole game about this, or try to subvert it and fail miserably, such as in the jeepform game Fat Man Down, which attempted to showcase the problems of fatphobia and instead only highlighted and nigh glorified them in their mechanics of the game).
Okay. So here we are at the end of this rather scathing list. And you might be asking: so what do I do to make sure my game isn’t fatphobic? Well, take a look at that handy dandy list and don’t do those things. Work hard to make sure people who are plus size, people who are fat, are in positions of power. Fight back against fatphobic jokes. Make sure you recognize the power dynamics being played out against fat players and their characters and help adjust the narrative so they are not pushed out by those who equate fat with things like laziness, slovenliness, lack of power, etc. Do the work to represent the life of fat people accurately and do not focus your games on the life of fat people and their challenges unless you know just what you’re doing.
As for me, I know that the world isn’t going to change overnight. I’m aware that there are plenty of places which will never shift the way they think about fat bodies (the clothing industry, for example…) But I solidly believe with a little conscious work we can make larp spaces more accessible and friendly towards body types of all kinds. By making sure people of all sizes feel comfortable coming to your game, you’ll enrich your game by bringing new experiences and new voices into your space. And you’ll prove that you recognize that fat people need not and should not be erased from your stories.
Embrace a new way of thinking. Or join in fatphobia as a phenomenon. There is no middle ground. And if you’re about bringing fatphobia into your games, just tell me so. Because then you get from me what amounts to a rude gesture and language and certainly no attendance at your game. Because I don’t have time for you or your fatphobia. The larp world has plenty of spaces that aren’t you.
Cover photo: Shoshana Kessock (photo, Dystopia Rising: New Jersey).
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 peopleare 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.
