New World Magischola

Larp Tools: Pronoun Markers and Correction Mechanics

Published on

2017-12-01

in

Larp Tools: Pronoun Markers and Correction Mechanics

Written by

Maury Brown

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

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:

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.
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.”
Person 2 follows the verbal cue and/or hand signal with the correct pronoun for Player 1 to use. e.g. “Pronouns. They.”
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

Sends a clear message that your community is inclusive to people of all genders.
Formalizes how pronouns are handled in your community.
Reduces the amount of misgendering that occurs for players and characters.
Gives a simple and quick correction procedure that is expected and minimally intrusive.
Opens community members’ eyes to perspectives beyond a gender binary.
Teaches participants how to get better at recognizing and using different pronouns.
Helps trans and nonbinary participants feel more respected and safer.
Allows role-play to continue quickly after a correction, rather than allowing a conversation to derail into obsequies and discomfort.
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.
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.

Larp Counselors: An Additional Safety Net

Published on

2017-08-07

in

Techniques

Larp Counselors: An Additional Safety Net

Written by

Sarah Lynne Bowman

Many contemporary larps are adopting structures to bolster their players’ feelings of emotional safety, including Codes of Conduct, safety teams, Sanctuary Spaces, special mechanics for signaling discomfort, and consent negotiations. This article advocates for the inclusion in certain larps of the unique role of a counselor, who is part of the safety team and a member of the overall organizing body of the event.

photo of Alex Rowland and Brodie Atwater embracing — Alex Rowland and Brodie Atwater as counselors Watson and Whipple, New World Magischola 7.

The counselor role is considered both diegetic and non-diegetic. In other words, a safety team member is embedded in the fiction as a character. Depending on the type of fiction, this role may be called a “counselor” — as in New World Magischola, Event Horizon, — or may be renamed something else appropriate to the fiction, such as “bartender” or “goddess.” Similar to a Storyteller or non-player character (NPC), while these individuals are immersed in the story, the counselor can also step out of their role in order to tend to the emotional needs of players in distress and help with calibration of play styles. They can help overwhelmed players find the off-game room, Sanctuary Space, or other members of the safety team on staff. Therefore, the counselor role requires a strong degree of sensitivity to the needs of others, flexibility to switch in- and out-of-character with ease, deescalation skills, and willingness to perform emotional labor for the player base and other organizers.

Counselors are especially useful at bigger larps that are spread over a large area. While the role is present in other larps, such as Lindängen International Boarding School, we are describing the counseling role that we first developed for Run 1 of New World Magischola (2016), where 160+ players were spread over 100+ acres. Since then, Magischola has featured embedded counselors for all eight runs, as well as two Yule episodes. Event Horizon (2016) adopted the role, as has the U.S. run of Just a Little Lovin’ (2017). Ideally, the counselor job is compensated if the larp budget allows, e.g. expenses, lodging, food, and/or stipends for travel.

Optimally, counselors serve other roles on the safety team such as leading workshops, de-roling, and debriefing sessions. The staff should introduce costumed counselors at the opening of the game if possible. That way, players can easily identify them as trained safety team members in play. Embedded counselors make safety both visible and pervasive in a larp culture. However, counselors are only one part of the safety culture of the larp. Ultimately, we hope to encourage a community of care, where other players feel motivated to provide support for one another, rather than relying on staff to handle all problems that arise.

Distinctions from Traditional Therapy

While we use the generic term “counselor,” we would like to make clear several core distinctions between this member of the safety team and a traditional therapist. While counselors may provide advice for players in- or out-of-character, they do not perform therapy as a psychologist would in an office setting. The counselor’s job is more akin to crisis management than therapy. In a therapeutic setting, a client enters into a relationship with their psychologist in which trust is built over time and personal information is revealed in order to produce meaningful change in the client’s life. In a larp, that relationship has not been established, and neither the space nor time needed for traditional therapy are present. Indeed, such intensive analysis of a player’s psychology could work against the goals of individuals in this role.

Instead, a larp counselor’s role is to provide players and organizers in need with the following:

Immediate support when distressed, triggered, alienated, or overwhelmed
Help in re-establishing a feeling of safety
Problem solving for emotional difficulties arising from the larp itself, such as plot-related issues and social conflicts
Assistance in processing bleed if it occurs
Calibrating play in order to help players adjust to one another’s comfort levels
Snacks, water, a quiet place to relax, and any other basic comforts
In extreme cases, crisis management for abuse, harassment, mental illness episodes, and other serious issues.

photo of a larp counselor in glasses — Thomas Whipple (Harrison Greene) in New World Magischola 1.

Thus, the counselor’s primary goal is to help establish a sense of emotional well-being in the hopes that the participant can re-engage with the larp and social environment with minimal disruption to their experience. Unlike a therapeutic session, where upsetting or traumatizing personal information is often unearthed, the larp counselor only engages with such content if the player spontaneously discloses personal information.

In this regard, while having trained psychologists on staff is desirable in larp settings, we recognize that emotional distress and even crisis can arise in any social situation. Larp can be particularly intense and place emotional demands upon players in terms of focused attention and intensity. In some cases, larpers experience physical strain, lack of sleep, or insufficient food or water, whether by personal choice or the event’s design. These demands can lead to powerful larp experiences, but can also add psychological strain. These issues can arise even in larps with presumably light-hearted content. In our experience, having a system in place to aid in these situations is important, as other players may not be able to provide care and organizers may be overwhelmed. The counselor serves as a safety net to help player’s process this strain and receive immediate help.

Thus, while we advocate for counselors to obtain professional development around emotional safety, crisis treatment certifications, and psychological training, we recognize that these requirements are not always practical. We believe the primary skills needed for a larp counselor are empathy, active listening, patience, and the willingness to help others through immediate emotional issues. Counselors should also work well in a team with other safety committee members and organizers, reporting often about the events occurring in the larp and any emotional difficulties that arise in the player base.

While counselors should strive toward confidentiality, they may need to report serious issues that arise to the larger team, especially if action needs to be taken to stop problematic behaviors such as harassment. Counselors are not subject to the same strict rules of confidentiality that a licensed professional may be, as they are working in service to the larp organizers. However, ethically, restricting who is exposed to sensitive information is extremely important. In issues of alleged harassment, legal repercussions could ensue if counselors reveal the details of a claim. Retaliation against reporters is also a possibility, which reinforces the need for discretion. Counselors should make clear to participants who they will inform about safety issues, particularly in the case of violations, before participants reveal personal details. Counselors can also disclose potential actions the safety team might take. Ideally, such information is contained in their Code of Conduct, Internal Procedures, or other design documents. If your larp needs help developing these procedures, we encourage you to borrow with attribution from the Living Games Conference safety documentation, which also includes professional development exercises for crisis management and empathy training.

Psychic twin sister counselors Winnie (Alex Rowland) and Raindrinker (Sarah Lynne Bowman) in Event Horizon. Photo courtesy of Event Horizon.

Ultimately, counselors work to try to resolve issues that happen during the larp, as well as keeping their fingers on the proverbial pulse of the events unfolding, often reporting back to the rest of the staff. We believe that dedicated counselors whose only role in the larp is to provide in-character and out-of-character assistance can not only assist players in need, but can relieve some of the pressure from other organizers, who are often overtaxed by logistical concerns. Thus, safety members in this role should also offer support to other members of staff in need, including each other, in the case of a larp with multiple embedded counselors. While counselors can double as physical safety staff trained in CPR and first aid, the skills required for these two jobs are often different and should not be conflated. Unless a larp is seriously understaffed, we suggest another organizer handle physical safety issues.

Advantages to Embedded Counselors

Having a member of the safety team embedded in the larp has several advantages. They are involved in the fiction and can better understand the references made by the characters and players. Counselors may even be present for key scenes and know which events have unfolded. This practice makes it less alienating for the counselor when hearing about larp events, as they understand the context.

Counselor Whipple (Brodie Atwater) with the Dean (Maury Brown) in New World Magischola 7.

For example, in New World Magischola, counselors are part of the staff of the school. They have in-character reasons to run administrative events, connect with faculty, and be available for students to express their career or personal issues. In the fiction of Event Horizon, counselors were hired by the corporation hosting the event. These counselors were telepathic twins with empathy powers. In both cases, magic can enhance the in-game counseling role, e.g. by providing flashbacks or future sequences, as one would in a black box, to help process character emotions. Embedded counselors can also work in a socially realistic setting. In the 2017 run of Just a Little Lovin’ in the United States, Joani, a New Age self-help guru character, was adapted to have counseling training.

The fiction influences the way counseling is portrayed, but provides a convenient reason for players to steer toward emotional processing or a satisfying resolution without breaking immersion. We term these strategies diegetic interventions, or ways to solve in-game problems through magic, psychic powers, role-played therapy sessions, or other creative solutions. Diegetic interventions are powerful because they redirect players to the fiction and that resolution becomes canonical, not just imagined. Players feel like they are getting a special scene, which can raise spirits and help them reconnect with the larp.

Additionally, embedded counselors can:

Monitor the emotional well-being of a person, e.g. with the Okay Check-in System. For example, if a character is crying alone, the counselor can clandestinely check-in and help if needed.
Remove a distressed person from play and take them to a safer space, e.g. another in-game location or an off-game room. Ideally, a larger larp has a Sanctuary Space for such a purpose, while small games may have an off-game room.
Model checking-in for other players in order to encourage a community of care, such as using the Okay Check-In System, Lookdown, Pronoun Corrections, Largo/Break, Cut, and any other safety mechanics. While players can bring distressed participants to a counselor as needed, we want to encourage participants to care for one another.
Serve as the eyes and ears on the ground to help the lead organizers calibrate the game.
Coordinate with the team when dispersed over a large play area.
Make story adjustments as embedded NPCs with in-character reasons for doing so.
Guide players back into character when needed.
Help players solve larp-related issues while in play when possible, such as overstimulation, difficulties engaging with plot, uncertainty how to move forward with a storyline, boredom, etc.
Offer emotional care while in the fiction, which may allow enough of a release valve that the player need not break in order to regroup.
Allows player alibi to seek help, particularly in play cultures where breaking immersion is discouraged.

Ideally, each larp has at least two counselors, which enables them to tap out if necessary, as well as to emotionally process with one another. Sometimes, counselors may need to check with one another to figure out a course of action. If a participant feels comfortable, having both counselors present to address an issue can be helpful, although some players prefer one-on-one private interactions.

In the most recent runs of New World Magischola, all counselors were coordinated through the use of walkie talkies, so that they could communicate regardless of their location in play. The Sanctuary Space also had a walkie talkie, which allowed players to page a counselor if needed. Counselors listed their schedule on the door of the Sanctuary Space to identify their approximate location. Sanctuary Spaces also feature water, snacks, blankets, soft music, and coloring books when possible. Ideally, Sanctuary Spaces have a door that can close for privacy. These logistics allow embedded counselors to slip smoothly in and out of play to address issues as they arise.

Drawbacks to Embedded Counselors

Embedding counselors into the fiction does have some drawbacks, which we will address in turn. They are:Active counselors in the play space are not always easy to find.

Active counselors in the play space are not always easy to find.
- Walkie talkies and other forms of communication such as text may help, assuming the technology is working and counselors regularly monitor these devices.
- Counselors can serve in shifts, where some are in-character while others remain in the Sanctuary Space or off-game room. Downtime may be necessary when performing emotional care, although boredom and alienation may arise if off-game shifts are too long.
Counselors can become involved in major stories or plots through emergent play as part of the fiction.
- Counselors can become central figures to the play of others due to the emotional bonds formed through the act of sharing, which can lend to player comfort.
- This engagement can also become negative, if players associate the counselor with a particular plot, player, or social clique that they find undesirable or alienating.
- Counselors should strive to maintain neutrality and objectivity in plots and social groups when possible as a best practice. Non-embedded members of safety teams are less biased in general, so counselors may direct players to these individuals in specific situations.
When immersed, counselors may show a range of emotions outside of their “professional” role.
- Counselors should strive to play characters who have a pleasant, welcoming, and empathic demeanor. Preferably, the characters’ default personalities are both engaging and emotionally available. However, these traits are not always possible to maintain when engaged in intense stories or moments.
- Players should not be afraid to show other ranges of emotions during role-play, but when interactions focus on counseling, this default personality should predominate.

Counselors Raynar and Traquility Whipple explore a mystery with a Divination professor in Magischola 4. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC.

Counseling and Self-Care

Counselors are not superheroes. They cannot help every player or be emotionally available at all times. Just like any member of the safety team, counselors should maintain boundaries with regard to their time and energy. A good rule of thumb is to help a person for a maximum of one hour. Players should not feel that they have unrestricted access to the emotional labor of counselors, so good boundary and expectation setting are necessary. Ideally, these boundaries are mentioned in workshops and enforced by the organizer team.

Counselors must be extremely vigilant about their own self-care regimen, including getting enough sleep and food. If necessary, a co-counselor, another member of the safety team, or another organizer can relieve them of their duties if self-care is needed. Counselors should feel enabled to self-advocate. For example, they can say,

“I feel that I have addressed your issue as best I can. I’m not sure how to proceed from here. Can we figure out a way to help you get back into play together?”
“I wish I could help right now, but I am going to need to get something to eat. Do you mind if I introduce you to our other counselor, who may be able to help?”

Note that while two counselors may decide to help the same player at once, they should avoid enabling players to monopolize their emotional resources by coming to different counselors with the same issue.

photo of a Divination and Ethics professor — Divination Professor Ziegler (Kat Jones) and Ethics Professor Hassinger (Evan Torner) also served as counselors at Magischola Yule.

Additionally, counselors should also remain vigilant of their own emotional capabilities throughout play. Some counselors have their own mental health challenges or trauma triggers. They should make sure that they feel sufficiently rested and comfortable addressing certain issues before engaging. They should also be upfront about their own limitations. For example, a counselor can say,

“I don’t deal well with angry people. Do you mind handling this situation? I don’t think I can be of help.”
“I just helped six people in a row and am emotionally depleted. Can you take over while I take a nap?”
“I am having anxiety today. I should probably avoid crowded rooms. Do you mind covering for me while I eat outside of the main play space?”

Counselors should not feel responsible for players during off-duty hours. Therefore, it is preferable to set boundaries around when counseling shifts are, e.g. 8am-1am, with breaks in between. The exception to this guideline is in cases of harassment or other serious mental health issues, where counselors may be needed when off-duty.

Finally, counselors may wish to make themselves available before and after the larp over social media and personal message. Sharing links about bleed, post-larp depression/blues/drop, debriefing, and other resources is helpful, especially the during 72 hours after the larp, or the bleed window, where players are often still transitioning back to their default lives. However, counselors should not feel required to perform additional emotional labor above and beyond their role in the larp unless they wish to do so. Again, boundary setting is necessary. Counselors are not community managers. They should decide upon how much post-larp emotional labor they are willing to provide. Some suggestions:

Allowing a player the opportunity to share a bleed issue, but limiting communication to one conversation.
Only discussing issues during the bleed window and declining overtures for conversation that occur more than 72 hours after the larp.
Redirecting participants to Facebook groups or their co-players for assistance, further reinforcing a culture of care.

Common Counseling Issues

Counselors Tullamore and Tranquility Whipple attempt to guide a student away from a dark path in New World Magischola 5.

In our experience, these problems arise in larp settings, although some are far more common than others:

A player needs help figuring out what to do next in-game, due to boredom, frustration, or a character dilemma.
A player has anxiety about their own play ability, their own plots, whether they are doing it right, or being good enough.
A player feels overwhelmed by the amount of plots or emotional content happening and has trouble deciding which thread to pursue.
A player feels shut out of play from other groups due to an exclusive plot, a social clique, or another participant refusing to play upon an established connection. The important thing here is to listen, empathize, and figure out solutions. Embedded counselors can provide play for the person if needed, or introduce them to other possible social groups/plots.
A player feels emotionally overwhelmed due to the intensity of a particular scene, be it romantic, violent, embarrassing, etc. The important thing is for the player to be able to express their feelings without feeling judged. Embedded counselors may have been present for the scene and/or able to offer some additional context, advice, etc. Reframing the event together through a more favorable perspective can sometimes be helpful. Note that, later, players might view these scenes as the best parts of their larp when properly reframed and put into context.
A player feels uncomfortable with another person’s playstyle, attention toward them, or level of aggression. Focusing on how to help the player feel most comfortable is optimal here. The counselors may want to suggest ways to remove the two people from proximity if possible and suggest in-game reasons for such a change.
A player is experiencing bleed due to the fiction connecting to real-life emotions or events. Allowing the person to express themselves without judgment is key. Sometimes, the bleed can be used for positive growth, but a player should not feel obligated to continue to play on a theme or relationship that they find distressing. Give options.
A player feels personally harassed by another player or staff member. These issues should be handled on a case-by-case basis according to the Code of Conduct and Internal Safety Procedures. If a larp does not have these resources, the counselor should follow the guidelines established informally in their local larp culture, although we highly suggest establishing a Code of Conduct and set of Internal Procedures. Confidentiality is extremely important in these situations. The player may not want to report the harasser officially and their comfort should be respected as tantamount. Ask questions and offer options, but do not pressure them to make a decision or take action.
A player is unable to fulfill personal goals, gain closure, or steer toward their desired trajectory. This problem does not usually led to an agitated state, but rather a deep sense of disappointment or loss. In this case, the goal is not to deescalate, but rather deflate the issue by doing solution-based counseling or introducing a diegetic intervention.

Diegetic Interventions

The structure of New World Magischola, with its player-driven scene requests and consent-based play, meant that counselors could take the tools available to players and use them with proficiency. Diegetic interventions allowed players not only to return to the larp, but to resolve their issues through play. Counselors could cancel scenes, make new ones, plan for plot events, or encourage negotiation with other players about closing or opening up storylines. They could use freeform scenes to create canonical content that could have happened in a story in order to justify a new character direction. While anyone can create this content, an embedded counselor can demonstrate proficiency in how a player might use it to transform their play.

Alex Rowland as Winnie posing — Counselor Winnie at Event Horizon

Some example diegetic interventions are:

Scene requests

Player: “I had a lot of ambitions for this storyline about my family, but the person playing my sibling brought a bunch of people to the scene and took most of the spotlight.”

Counselor: “Well, what if we put in a scene request for your character to meet one of their family members again, but on their own this time?”

Player: “Can I do that?”

Counselor: “Of course, and you can also talk to that other player to see what they’re trying to get from the plotline, so you can discuss expectations of where the play should lead.”

Freeform

Player: “I was really hoping that my character would get arrested before the ball so they could break out of prison to see their date. But there won’t be much play after dinner.”

Counselor: “What if we checked with the NPCs to see if we can make that scene? If not, we can take some time to act out the scene together, with us playing the marshals who arrested them.”

Plot Knowledge

Player: “I’m feeling exhausted by being around so many people.”

Counselor: “There’s going to be a big scene that draws everyone out into the forest in about an hour. What if you just focused on being in the common room or resting, then looked for other quiet people who weren’t out at the scene, and tried to play with them? There will be someone drawing people to your character’s common room about an hour after they get back, so you can make plans to be gone by then.”

Future Steps

While not all larps may require a counselor, we believe that they provide communities with a distinct advantage. For this reason, Brodie Atwater and Alex Rowland — experienced larp counselors, academics, and therapists-in-training — are developing a guide for counselors. This manual will serve as a touchstone for people who want to begin contracting and training counselor roles for their game. Starting from a standardized crisis counseling model, this work will also examine ACA Compliance in order to start synthesizing larp communal wisdom with wider psychological standards. Ultimately, we hope that this work will serve as a foundation for increased professional development and more nuanced safety team design in larps.

Bibliography

Bowman, Sarah Lynne. “A Matter of Trust — Larp and Consent Culture.” Nordiclarp.org, February 3, 2017.

Bowman, Sarah Lynne. “Bleed: The Spillover Between Player and Character.” Nordiclarp.org, March 2, 2015.

Bowman, Sarah Lynne. “Returning to the Real World: Debriefing After Role-playing Games.” Nordiclarp.org, Dec. 8, 2014.

Bowman, Sarah Lynne. “Social Conflict in Role-Playing Communities: An Exploratory Qualitative Study.” International Journal of Role-playing 4: 4-25.

Bowman, Sarah Lynne and Evan Torner. “Post-Larp Depression.” Analog Game Studies 1, no. 1.

Brown, Maury. “19 Truths about Harassment, Missing Stairs, and Safety in Larp Communities,” Nordiclarp.org, March 14, 2017.

Brown, Maury. “The Consent and Community Manifesto,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified March 17, 2017. https://nordiclarp.org/2017/03/24/the-consent-and-community-safety-manifesto/

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

Brown, Maury. “Player-Centered Design,” Keynote at Living Games Conference 2016, YouTube, last accessed June 10, 2016, https://youtu.be/oZY9wLUMCPY

Brown, Maury. “Pulling the Trigger on Player Agency: How Psychological Intrusions in Larps Affect Game Play,” Wyrd Con Companion Book 2014 (Los Angeles, CA: Wyrd Con), https://www.dropbox.com/s/3yq12w0ygfhj5h9/2014%20Wyrd%20Academic%20Book.pdf?dl=0

Brown, Maury and Benjamin A. Morrow, “Breaking the Alibi: Fostering Empathy by Reuniting Player and Character,” Wyrd Con Companion Book 2015 (Los Angeles, CA: Wyrd Con), https://www.dropbox.com/s/xslwh0uxa544029/WCCB15-Final.pdf?dl=0

Brown, Maury and Benjamin A. Morrow, “Playing for Empathy Workshop,” Living Games Conference, August 18, 2016.

Dalstål, Elin. “Self Care Comes First: A Larp and Convention Policy,” Nordiclarp.org, August 17, 2016.

Game to Grow. “Game to Grow Webisode Project Episode 2: Emotionally Intense Play, Calibration, and Community Safety.” With Maury Brown, Johanna Koljonen, Lizzie Stark, John Stavropoulos. Moderated by Sarah Lynne Bowman. YouTube, September 1, 2016.

Game to Grow. “Game to Grow Webisode Project Episode 6: Consent Based Play.” With Maury Brown, Johanna Koljonen, Lizzie Stark, John Stavropoulos, and Azzurra Crispino. Moderated by Sarah Lynne Bowman. YouTube, March 26, 2017.

Koljonen, Johanna. “Opt In/Opt Out Safety System.” Keynote at Living Games Conference 2016. YouTube, June 10, 2016,

Koljonen, Johanna. “Toolkit: Let’s Name this Baby! (Bow-Out Mechanics).” Safety in Larp: Understanding Participation and Designing for Trust, May 30, 2016.

Koljonen, Johanna. “Toolkit: The Okay Check-In.” Safety in Larp: Understanding Participation and Designing for Trust, September 18, 2019.

Living Games. “Living Games Safety Documentation.” Living Games Conference, July 18, 2016.

Living Games. “Sanctuary Space, Safety Team, and Crisis Management Programming.” Living Games Conference, April 15, 2016.

Montola, Markus, Jaakko Stenros, and Eleanor Saitta. “The Art of Steering: Bringing the Player and the Character Back Together.” Nordiclarp,org, April 29, 2015.

Pedersen, Troels Ken. “Your Larp’s Only as Safe as its Safety Culture,” Leaving Mundania, August 4, 2015.

Stark, Lizzie. “Building Larp Communities: Social Engineering for Good.” Leaving Mundania: Inside the World of Larp, March 18, 2014.

Stark, Lizzie. “Player Safety in Nordic Games.” Leaving Mundania: Inside the World of Larp. April 26, 2012.

Stavropoulos, John, Samara Hayley Steele, Sarah Lynne Bowman, and Sara Hart. “Crisis Management Workshop: Bleed, Harassment, Trauma Workshop.” Living Games Conference, July 18, 2016.

Cover photo: Catching the Light by Chi Tranter on Flickr. (CC BY 2.0). Photo has been cropped.

A Matter of Trust – Larp and Consent Culture

Published on

2017-02-03

in

Techniques

A Matter of Trust – Larp and Consent Culture

Written by

Sarah Lynne Bowman

Consent culture in larp communities is a subject of great interest in the current discourse. While previous decades have witnessed roaring debates on the superiority of various rules systems, distribution of narrative control, or emphasis on specific themes, several larp communities have shifted their focus to discuss issues of emotional and physical safety. In the last several years, the annual Nordic larp conference has featured panels and workshops on safety. The Living Games Conference 2016 showcased a series of keynotes on Community Management, with presentations from organizers such as John Stavropoulos, Avonelle Wing, Maury Brown, and Johanna Koljonen. Several scholarly and popular articles have emerged on topics such as emotional bleed from player to character and vice versa; triggers and larp; how to calibrate play styles; steering play to maximize role-play potential; the importance of debriefing; post-larp depression/”blues”; and playing for empathy. Other recent panels have focused upon playing intense emotional content more safely; role-playing as potentially therapeutic; and crisis management in communities, including policy, deliberation, and decision making.

Of central interest in many of these discussions is the rise of consent-based play, where actions within larps must take place according to a collaborative agreement between players. This style of play has gained recent popularity in games such as College of Wizardry, New World Magischola, End of the Line, and Convention of Thorns, although earlier precedents certainly exist. For many participants, consent-based play provides greater degrees of trust between players, personal autonomy over one’s story, and collaboration in the larp community.((See for example Maury Brown, “Creating a Culture of Trust through Safety and Calibration Larp Mechanics,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified September 9, 2016.))

wizards point their wands at each other — In consent-based resolution magic systems like College of Wizardry, the recipient decides the effect of a spell. Photo courtesy of Dziobak Larp Studios.

Controversy around Safety and Consent-Based Play

Participants in some larp communities express resistance and scrutiny in consent and safety discussions. In the past, any discussion of the social and psychological effects of role-playing was a taboo subject, as religious extremists groups and the mainstream media often portrayed the hobby as psychologically damaging. During the so-called Satanic Panic, many non-players worried that larpers would “lose touch with reality,” commit suicide, or become drawn to the occult.((Lizzie Stark, Leaving Mundania (Chicago, IL: Chicago Review Press, 2012).)) Thus, many role-players prefer to downplay any social or psychological effects, instead emphasizing the alibi of “it’s just a game” and “it’s what my character would do.” Additionally, role-players often claim that their communities are far healthier and more inclusive than mainstream society as a result of many participants feeling marginalized as “geeks” or “nerds” throughout life.((See for example, Sarah Lynne Bowman, The Functions of Role-playing Games: How Participants Create Community, Solve Problems, and Explore Identity (Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, Inc., 2010).))

Two vampire players looking at one another — In the Nordic vampire larp End of the Line, players use scripted consent negotiations before enacting intimacy. Photo courtesy of Participation Design Agency.

Meanwhile, academics have begun to study these effects in detail, investigating the ways in which role-playing impacts individual consciousness and community dynamics. For example, I have studied qualitatively the ways in which larp communities are negatively impacted by conflict and bleed, and am conducting a follow-up quantitative study with Michał Mochocki.((Sarah Lynne Bowman, “Social Conflict in Role-Playing Communities: An Exploratory Qualitative Study, International Journal of Role-playing 4: 4-25.)) Diana Shippey Leonard has examined the sociology of larp groups, including their life cycles and the ways in which creative agendas lead to conflict according to Larp Census 2014 data.((Diana Leonard, “The Dynamic Life Cycle of Live Action Role-playing Communities,” in Wyrd Con Companion Book 2013, edited by Sarah Lynne Bowman and Aaron Vanek (Los Angeles, CA: WyrdCon, 2013); Diana Leonard, “Conflict and Change: Testing a Life-Cycle-Derived Model of Larp Group Dynamics,” International Journal of Role-playing 6: 15-22.))

Similarly, Brodie Atwater has examined the ways in which marginalized people in larp communities report feelings of exclusion and alienation due to their social identities. Gender, sexuality, and race are also at the forefront of the academic conversation, as people from marginalized groups do not always feel that their identities are respected or represented appropriately in role-playing communities. These conversations spill over into discussions on social media networks and are often the cause of much divisiveness when perspectives differ. Some players believe that sexism, racism, and homophobia no longer exist in contemporary society or are not problems in role-playing communities, whereas others cite personal experiences to the contrary. For example, members of some larp groups insist that plots should no longer feature sexual assault or rape in order to avoid triggering abuse survivors in the community, whereas other participants feel that such content is appropriate to the setting and, therefore, permissible.

While these debates will likely continue for years to come, many designers find their game spaces less accommodating than they would like and are working to develop strategies for more consensual play. Some role-playing groups have methods for players to opt-out of content that they find uncomfortable, such as safe words, whereas others discuss ways to make content more opt-in. For example, some larps feature trigger warnings, content advisories, or ingredients lists to warn players ahead of time about the sorts of themes they will likely encounter.((Organizers like Karin Edman advocate for such lists, also called Content Declarations. See for example “Content Declarations,” Nordic Larp Wiki, last modified October 8, 2015 and the Ingredients list for the Dystopia Rising network.))

Other larps build consent-based play into the mechanics of the game. For example, in College of Wizardry and New World Magischola, the recipient of a spell determines its effect, not the rules or the initiator. Similarly, End of the Line, New World Magischola and Convention of Thorns have instituted a script for consent negotiations, in which organizers instruct players on how to calibrate with one another when enacting specific physical and verbal content around intimacy, violence, romance, bullying, and other sensitive topics.((For an example, see the consent mechanics from Convention of Thorns: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yTgK4ZKqg9H9opBKau7nKZC3y5jOqwlo7D4PWCKPB5s/edit?usp=sharing))

Players in Convention of Thorns must negotiate intimate scenes off-game before engaging. Photo by Przemysław Jendroska for Dziobak Larp Studios.

Originally developed by Participation Design Agency, these consent negotiations require discussion of specific actions rather than generalities in order to ensure each player understands the agreement. Consent negotiations adjust to the comfort level of the person with the strongest boundaries rather than expecting them to become more flexible with their limits. For example, in a romance, if one player is comfortable kissing, while the other prefers only to verbally flirt, the negotiation would resolve with flirting as the agreement.

Another emerging aspect of consent-based play is the development of safety and calibration mechanics that allow players to communicate their levels of comfort during the larp. The Okay Check-In is a non-verbal signal for making sure a player is comfortable in a scene; it involves one participant flashing the Okay symbol to another, who can respond with thumbs-up, thumbs-down, or so-so hand gesture. This mechanic, originally developed in the Los Angeles area by Rob McDiarmid, Aaron Vanek, and Kirsten Hageleit, has seen significant recent adoption in New World Magischola, End of the Line, Hidden Parlor Austin, and the Dystopia Rising network. Another new mechanic is the Lookdown or “See No Evil” signal, developed by Trine Lise Lindahl and Johanna Koljonen. With Lookdown, a player shield their eyes with one hand in order to exit a scene at any time without explanation or request that others pretend their character is no longer present. With these tools, the emphasis is on the comfort and emotional safety of the player rather than the importance of the continuity of the scene. The common refrain for these mechanics is, “Players are more important than larps.” Koljonen’s Participation Safety blog features additional information on these tools and others.

Fairness, Immersion, Competition, and the Cult of Hardcore

Violence is prenegotiated ahead of time in Convention of Thorns. Photo by John-Paul Bichard for Dziobak Larp Studios.

While many players laud these innovations as affording them a greater level of comfort to explore sensitive content, common complaints against consent-based play emerge in larp communities. The first centers upon the traditional emphasis on rules in role-playing games, where any form of conflict – including many social interactions – are arbitrated by a rules system and an authority figure, such as an organizer or game master. Many players feel that such rules level the playing field by providing a non-arbitrary method by which a character can succeed in a scenario. These players may perceive the introduction of consent-based play as threatening to their preferred style, as it opens the door for individuals to “avoid consequences for actions” or act unfairly. In spite of these claims, as Planetfall designer and organizer Matthew Webb explains, “In three years of using emotional safety techniques, we’ve never had a complaint of dodging consequences though we explicitly say we will deal with that situation if it arises.” While any rule can be abused, including consent mechanics, few players actually manipulate consensual play to impose their will upon others or “cheat.” On the contrary, many players use consent negotiations in order to orchestrate playing to lose — where something dramatically terrible happens to their character — by planning the scene ahead of time through collaboration. John Wick advocates for this “friendly enemies” approach in his Houses of the Blooded setting.

Another common complaint against consent negotiations and safety/calibration mechanics is that they negatively impact immersion. Immersion itself is a widely-debated term, with many schools of thought emerging regarding what experiences the concept actually describes.((For recent theories on immersion, see Sarah Lynne Bowman and Anne Standiford, “Enhancing Healthcare Simulations and Beyond: Immersion Theory and Practice” International Journal of Role-playing 6: 12-19.)) For the purposes of this article, immersion will refer to the sense of feeling highly engaged in the narrative, world, or character of a game. Since checking for consent requires brief off-game negotiations, some players protest this practice as “breaking their immersion.” However, immersion is best viewed as a spectrum rather than an on-off switch. A brief check-in may lessen someone’s immersion, but will rarely impede their ability to re-engage. Similarly, discrete off-game consent negotiations that are designed to run smoothly tend to proceed quickly, often without other players noticing. As opposed to disrupting the intensity of play, brief consent discussions can allow larpers to feel more comfortable playing deeply with one another, taking chances they might normally avoid because they established a greater sense of trust.

satirical comic about the okay check-in breaking immersion — Satirical comic about some American boffer larpers’ reactions to the Okay Check-In system. Copyright by Paul Scofield.

Some proponents of competitive play, such as Matthew Webb, suggest that competition brings out the best in people when conducted in a fair manner. Through competition, players are challenged to greater levels of achievement and agency, potentially training social skills in the meantime. Competition also provides motivation for many players, as the system, mechanics, or scenario encourages achievement through challenge and the desire to win.((Matthew Webb, “Let’s Fight – In Defense of Competitive Play, Part 1,” Nordiclarp.org, February 2, 2017.))

These potential benefits make strong arguments in favor of competitive play in certain contexts. For example, students in edu-larp scenarios may find competition inherently motivating, especially in classroom environments where achievement is already encouraged through grades and social status. For players living in what sometimes feels like an unfair world, knowing the rules in a larp space and learning how to succeed in a clear manner are deeply rewarding.

However, in order for one person to succeed, other components of the larp environment must fail, whether they are the scenario objectives, organizer-generated antagonists such as non-player characters (NPCs), or other players within the game. The latter two styles of play are often called player vs. environment (PvE) and player vs. player (PvP) respectively, although some prefer the term “character” here to distinguish between on- and off-game antagonism. Such a loss is not always perceived as negative; indeed, playing to lose can often feel fun for larpers. Also, losses in the short term can provide learning experiences for winning in the future.

On the other hand, if a player in a larp has invested a significant amount of time and energy into their character and another person socially humiliates or physically harms that character without consent, the experience can feel unbalanced, unfair, and alienating. Therefore, while competitive play holds risks that some may find acceptable, these risks can be ameliorated in large part by consent negotiations. Indeed, consent discussions can often enhance antagonistic play, as both parties feel that they have opted-in to the experience. Thus, cooperative competition is also possible as a middle ground approach.

In End of the Line, the recipient decides how to react if a vampire enacts a Discipline. Photo by Participation Design Agency.

Finally, a potential problem in role-playing groups of all sorts is the cult of hardcore. Whether in a competitive or collaborative play environment, the cult of hardcore refers to the group imposing a certain degree of emotional intensity or mature content onto its members. In a competitive larp group focusing on interpersonal politics and backstabbing, the cult of hardcore often manifests as pressure to engage in socially antagonistic play. Such antagonism sometimes results in simulated violence or emotional hazing. Even players who attempt to opt out of the political part of such larps may be subject to aggressive play such as economic warfare, the arbitrary use of political power, or forced interactions through role-play.

In cooperative larp groups with scenarios based on serious themes, the pressure of the cult of hardcore is somewhat more insidious, in that players are often expected to push their own emotional limits in order to preserve the immersion of the rest of the group or keep the story moving. In both competitive and cooperative larps, players can feel coerced into accepting situations that make them feel uncomfortable. The logic of this playstyle is that if a player enters the social space of a larp, they are implicitly accepting the social contract of that space: anything that occurs within that environment is acceptable as long as it adheres to the rules and setting.

While the cult of hardcore style can produce high intensity, cathartic experiences for many players, it calibrates group play to correspond with the participant who has the more flexible boundaries. In other words, the player who is able to tolerate the most emotional or physical intensity becomes the baseline for the rest of the group, as they will likely play to their own limits. If other players experience discomfort or distress, the common response in hardcore play cultures is that the larp is “not for them.” This statement begs the question: who, then, are cult of hardcore larps for? In general, such larps are designed for people who a) do not often experience emotional distress, b) are willing to experience distress as a means of “toughening up,” or c) are unwilling to risk losing their social status or connections by expressing their distress. Thus, these environments are often problematic for people who are trauma survivors, neuro-atypical, from marginalized groups, or simply prefer lower intensity play.

New World Magischola students participate in an academic case study competition, trying to earn a job at a major corporation. Competitive play can co-exist with consent culture in larp. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

Consent-based play does not negate the possibility for high intensity play to exist within the larp space. If the lessons learned from the BDSM subculture are any indication, consent negotiations actually facilitate more intense brink play, as both parties can discuss limits and steer toward the desired experience. The cult of hardcore can ratchet up the intensity for one another without level-setting the larp for everyone else. Similarly, competition is entirely possible within consent-based spaces as long as limits are discussed between the parties involved. Thus, the notion that consensual play will eradicate intensity or competition is a false dichotomy.

More Accommodating Spaces

Diablerie scene from Convention of Thorns. Photo by John-Paul Bichard for Dziobak Larp Studios.

Ultimately, the goal of consent-based play is to make larp spaces more accommodating and enjoyable for participants. Instead of calibrating the group to the playstyle of the person with the most flexible boundaries, consent-based play allows people with multiple backgrounds and degrees of sensitivity to engage. For example, a veteran with PTSD triggers may have difficulty playing a larp with flashing lights and pyrotechnics. Organizers can make the space more accommodating by disclosing ahead of time that such effects will take place and by limiting them to a particular physical location where players can opt-in to that experience. Thus, organizers can pay careful attention to the scenography and design of the space in order to facilitate different levels of engagement.

Organizers can also disclose themes by providing content advisories, ingredients lists, or trigger warnings, making the specifics clear to participants ahead of time. Knowing that content will be present in a larp enables players to make informed decisions about their participation. For example, many people feel uncomfortable playing themes of sexual violence due to personal experience or object to designers using the theme as a plot device. However, when these themes are discussed respectfully beforehand with a clear understanding of how the larp will address them, players often feel more comfortable opting-in. Therefore, consent negotiations can engender greater trust within the community and enable more people to feel comfortable participating.

Finally, thinking about consent-based play as a spectrum rather than an on/off speech is likely to prove more fruitful. In other words, a group need not redesign their entire larp to include consent. Instituting calibration mechanics that seamlessly communicate comfort levels — such as safe words, the Okay Check-In, and the Lookdown signal — can help existing spaces feel more consensual for players. Brief off-game negotiations for sensitive scenes, pre-planning antagonistic interactions, and discussing physical boundaries can enhance trust in even competitive larp environments. Ultimately, as Troels Ken Pedersen has suggested, the techniques themselves do not increase feelings of safety, but the safety culture established within the community does.((Troels Ken Pedersen, “Your Larp’s Only as Safe as its Safety Culture,” Leaving Mundania, August 4, 2015.)) Workshopping and modeling these techniques help establish the safety culture by indicating that the group takes the emotional needs of the individual seriously. The more that players can learn to empathize with one another and adjust play according to one another’s needs, the more cohesive and strong a larp community can become.

Cover photo: Students dance at the ball at New World Magischola Yuletide Escapade 1. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

When Trends Converge – The New World Magischola Revolution

Published on

2016-07-04

in

Documentation

When Trends Converge – The New World Magischola Revolution

Written by

Sarah Lynne Bowman

Be the change! Break the chains! Change the world!

Dan Obeah motto, New World Magischola Run 2

New World Magischola is an American blockbuster larp produced by Learn Larp, LLC about students and faculty attending a wizard university in a new North American magical universe. Inspired by the hugely successful College of Wizardry larps at Czocha Castle in Poland, designers Maury Brown and Benjamin A. Morrow decided to bring a version of the larp to the United States. Bolstered in part by the media fervor around the College of Wizardry documentary((Cosmic Joke UK, “College of Wizardry – Documentary,” YouTube, last modified Dec 9, 2014, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oW0bi_XgMY0. See also the promo trailer: Cosmic Joke UK, ““College of Wizardry – Documentary Promo,” YouTube, last modified Dec 2, 2014, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVL-ts38-Rs.)) by Cosmic Joke Productions that went viral on multiple media outlets((Johannes Axner, “College of Wizardry 2014 Round-up,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified Dec 9, 2014, https://nordiclarp.org/2014/12/09/college-of-wizardry-2014-round-up/.)) and by the designers’ own successful marketing, the Kickstarter for the larp raised an astounding $303,877. These funds went toward establishing the logistics for four runs of the larp in June and July of 2016 at the University of Richmond in Virginia. This article will discuss the first two runs of the game in June, where I served as a staff member and non player-character (NPC) counselor in the first run and House President player in the second.

While this article will cover some of the content of the game, the focus of this discussion will center upon the culture that has emerged around New World Magischola through intentional design and player contributions. Based upon initial blog posts and Internet discussions, the game appears to be inspiring a paradigmatic shift in many participants about the nature of larp, what sorts of experiences it can produce, and what kinds of community standards a play culture can establish. Therefore, this article will discuss the following topics within these contexts: basic game logistics, my personal narrative as a player, the progressive design goals, the consent-based play culture, and the relative success of introducing Nordic-style larp to a primarily North American audience. I will not discuss specific plotlines in the interest of protecting spoilers for future runs.

LUV_6804 2 — College of Wizardry producer Claus Raasted as the Chancellor in NWM1.

While this game stands as a landmark on its own, I invite readers to consider this information as a convergence of trends that have been building for the last several years: increased communication between North American larpers and international players through Facebook, blogs, and other social media channels; innovations in North American indie game design; other cross-cultural collaborations including College of Wizardry; a greater interest in establishing safety, consent, and calibration around play; and the continued development of academic and practical publications including the Nordic larp Knutepunkt books, the International Journal of Role-playing, Analog Game Studies, The Wyrd Con Companion Book, and Game Wrap, etc. Combined with Brown and Morrow’s talents in intentional design and marketing, these factors have culminated in a remarkable experience for many of the players: College of Wizardry veterans, experienced North American larpers, and new participants alike.

The Setting: Progress, not Perfection

New World Magischola presents an environment where much progressive social change has occurred, but the result is far from a perfect utopia. Similar to College of Wizardry, New World Magischola is set in a fictional world similar to that of Harry Potter, but with an entirely new lore based in regional history and mystical traditions specific to North America.

Student attend a late-night club at NWM2. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC. — Students attend a late-night club at NWM2. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC.

Players start as either professors, third-year, second-year, or first-year students. Third and second-years are already sorted into one of five Houses with distinct personalities and histories: House Croatan, Maison DuBois, Lakay Laveau, Casa Calisaylá, and Dan Obeah. The larp starts Thursday afternoon with a series of briefings and workshops. Play begins Thursday night with group dining and announcements. Then, House parties take place, where the Houses get to know the first-years and decide who they would like to recruit. Clubs also meet Thursday night. Classes take place during the day on Friday, with the House draft and sorting ceremony on Friday night, as well as clubs. Classes resume on Saturday, with a formal dance that evening. The game ends at around midnight, with structured debriefing on Sunday morning.

Brown playing an NPC hob. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

With regard to the lore, the designers had to walk a fine line between wedding invented magical elements with real world historical facts and cultures in a way that was respectful, informed, fair, but also honest. The goal of this design was to create a magical universe that did not whitewash history or cherry pick events based upon the stories of the victors, but rather to directly confront the biases, hypocrisies, and violence that stain the American promise of “freedom” while acknowledging the potential embedded in that promise. In this regard, Brown and Morrow consulted with several players of color from diverse backgrounds in order to portray certain cultures respectfully, as they integrated elements into the lore from First Nations, voodoo, slavery, etc. Traumatic moments such as the Civil War are intertwined with invented magical lore to create a universe that feels both grounded in this world and otherworldly.

While these historical elements exist within the lore, the bulk of the game deals with social issues through this otherworldly lens of metaphor, allowing participants enough distance to engage with topics without triggering real world personal issues of social discrimination. Examples include using werewolves, vampires, “Unsoiled vs. Mundane” blood, and cryptid sapience rights as metaphors for real world social issues. In order to help cement these themes, all students are required to take a Magical Theory and Ethics class where such topics are brought to the foreground.

A major topic of debate is the rights of sapient creature like the chupacabra. Photo by Learn Larp LLC. — A major topic of debate is the rights of magical creatures. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

Many are assigned to social clubs that meet after class, such as the Sapience Advocacy group. These issues are also interwoven into character concepts in complex ways that avoid stereotypes and demonstrate their multifaceted nature. In the first run, I played a counselor who held an impromptu group therapy session as the result of inclement weather keeping us from leaving a classroom. Within this session, students shared their backgrounds: a Mundane artificer who hates Unsoiled — the higher class in this world — due to discrimination and wishes to break all the things they create; an Unsoiled whose grandparent was killed for defending Mundane rights in court; an ecologically conscious student who wants to take obsolete Mundane technology and recycle it for magical purposes, etc. By the end of this discussion, characters from multiple sides of issues were willing to expand their perspectives. The sophistication of the writing allowed for students to play “dark” or “light” according to their wishes, but to have complex motivations for doing so that often brought important discussions to the foreground.

As a player in the second run, my personal story involved playing a Light-oriented Astromancer named Sedona Winters who could divine the future and travel the astral plane. Sedona was co-House President of Dan Obeah. Aside from my duties toward my House mates and collaboration with fellow Presidents, my personal plotline involved trying to encourage my estranged ex-boyfriend to avoid committing an act that would land him in Avernus prison. These discussions centered around his feelings of determinism based upon his history in a Mixed Heritage crime family and my more privileged, Unsoiled character’s belief in free will and personal choice. Ultimately, he made the Lighter choice and we attended the formal together, but the play could have gone many ways. As sequels are planned for future runs, this storyline remains open.

LUV_9940 4 — House Dan Obeah in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

The progressive intent of the design extends from the themes of the game outward to the practices of casting and the establishment of an inclusive play culture. According to the lore, when their daughter was denied attendance to the Imperial Magischola because of her gender, New World Magischola was founded by Virginia Dare and Maximilian Samson in 1635. In this regard, issues of feminism and social progress are interwoven into the school from the ground up, further reinforced by its current ethos, “New World Magischola strongly believes in diversity – of magical tradition, of gender, of race and ethnicity, etc.– both among students and staff, which has been part of its mission since its founding.”((New World Magischola, “About NWM – The School,” Magischola.com, https://magischola.com/about-nwm/.))

The designers encouraged participants from diverse gender, sexuality, ethnicity, and racial backgrounds to apply for professor and president roles. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

Brown and Morrow reinforced this ethos by encouraging people from diverse gender, racial, ethnic, and sexuality backgrounds to apply for professor and House president roles. In this way, the design allows for multiple layers of diversity: representation in the lore makes space for the plausible physical embodiment of diverse individuals in positions of authority. In this regard, the progressive mission statement of the school is similar to many real world universities, with some enhancements. For example, the default pronouns in the Magimundi — the magical universe — are “they/their/them”; players practiced using these pronouns in workshops, as well as gently correcting each other with a P hand signal from British sign language and a verbal “pronouns” reminder. While this practice caused anxiety for some players initially, by the end of both runs, corrections became mostly seamless and the players respected this expectation. Expanding upon principles from College of Wizardry, discrimination based upon sexuality, gender, race, or ethnicity is not acceptable in the game, with the lore conceit that the Magimundi are beyond such biases. This practice allows vampires, werewolves, and other supernatural beings to act as stand-ins for players to explore issues of discrimination without potentially harming players who experience marginalization in real life. This design also encourages characters to feel comfortable exploring non-traditional types of gender presentation, relationship types, and sexual orientation; all characters are gender-neutral by default and character ties aside from family relations are chosen by the players. Finally, the play culture emphasizes strongly consensual opt-in play, as I will describe in the section below.

Morrow as an NPC in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

All of these factors contribute to an environment rife with potential conflicts, but sensitively written and deployed in order to create a more inclusive space for each player, specifically for players from marginalized backgrounds. Anecdotally, this space proved transformative for some players, as evidenced by recent blog reviews of the game: Shoshana Kessock((Shoshana Kessock, “Orlanda in the Light of Upraised Wands,” Shoshanakessock.com, last modified June 21, 2016, https://shoshanakessock.com/2016/06/21/orlando-in-the-light-of-upraised-wands/.)) discusses her experiences as a queer player in the wake of the Orlando tragedy; Elsa S. Henry((Elsa S. Henry, “Blind Lady Versus New World Magischola,” Feministsonar.com, last modified on June 21, 2016, http://feministsonar.com/2016/06/blind-lady-versus-new-world-magischola/.))describes the empowerment she felt as a player with disabilities in the larp; and Tara M. Clapper((Tara M. Clapper, “Chasing Bleed – An American Fantasy Larper at Wizard School,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified on July 1, 2016, https://nordiclarp.org/2016/07/01/chasing-bleed/.)) speaks of using bleed in the game to practice interpersonal skills and process grief. Other American players have discussed the psychological impact and transformational nature of the game in a (spoiler-filled) Ace of Geeks podcast interview recorded directly after the second run.((Contains spoilers. Mike Fatum. “AOG Podcast Episode 197: New World Magischola – The Experience,” Ace of Geeks, last modified on July 1, 2016, http://aceofgeeks.net/aog-podcast-episode-197-new-world-magischola-experience/.))

The emphasis on metaphorical social issues and discourse embedded in the design led some players to have deeply profound learning moments that I heard echoed by several players after the game. These elements combined with the freeform and consent-based magic mechanics to empower characters to explore issues, find agency, and make change in the magical reality. Brown and Morrow describe this design ethos in more depth in their documents on “Queering the Wizard World & Using Feminist Game Design in NWM,”((Maury Brown and Benjamin A. Morrow, “Queering the Wizard World & Using Feminist Game Design in NWM,” Google Docs, last accessed on July 2, 2016.)) Brown’s “The Trouble with Gender” article in Analog Game Studies,((Maury Elizabeth Brown, “The Trouble with Gender in Larp,” Analog Game Studies, last modified on September 13, 2015, http://analoggamestudies.org/2015/09/the-trouble-with-gender-in-larp/.)) and the “Who We Are” section on their website, along with other resources listed in the below sections.

Magical Ethics in NWM1. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC. — Magical Theory and Ethics in NWM1. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

The Mechanics: When Nordic Style Meets North Americans

Both College of Wizardry and New World Magischola are designed around freeform conflict resolution mechanics that rely heavily on player choice and improvisation; if a character casts a spell on another character, the recipient player decides the effect. The player casting should telegraph the intent of the spell through verbal description, then use a phrase of their choosing to incant while waving their wands. Magical combat is intended to only take place during duels and is therefore not a strong component of the game, although the school teaches both combat and defense. All effects should be physically plausible in a “What You See is What You Get” (WYSIWYG) environment, meaning that setting something on fire would not be plausible as fire is banned on the actual campus, but a spell may produce a burning sensation with no visible effect if the recipient chooses that response. The designers and volunteers of both larps produced a series of informative, short videos on the magic system.

As many experienced North American larpers are accustomed to complex conflict resolution mechanic systems — sometimes encompassing hundreds of pages of rules — this system was difficult for some players to understand. Most North American resolution mechanics determine for both players who “wins” an encounter, whereas the Nordic style often encourages “playing to lose,” “playing for drama,” or “playing for what is interesting.” In other words, a spell failing can often lead to even more interesting play than its success.

Special NPC requested by players at NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

Additionally, this system relies heavily on player-driven plotlines. While some overarching stories in the setting are seeded by the organizers or announced throughout the game, players are enabled to make change in their environment by creating their own side plotlines for people to follow, declaring magical effects have taken place in an environment, and even requesting special non-player characters (NPCs) from the staff to arrive at specific times for a purpose. For example, a character may enlist others to go on a ritual through the astral plane in order to cure their curse, declare everyone in a specific room magically unable to tell a lie, or request a special creature to use for demonstration in a Cryptozoology class. In this regard, professors are considered players, while other staff are considered NPCs with more limited goals. The vast majority of these actions can transpire without organizer assistance, with the exception of ordering NPCs, particular props, or special effects. Such a system relies heavily on “yes, and…” or “yes, but…” improvisational play, where everyone feels enabled to present options within the environment and others should play along as they wish without shutting the other person down completely. This design allows for many and varied personal story hooks and small group plotlines, as opposed to finding and taking part in an overarching staff-run “metaplot” — the latter being a common component of North American larps.

While ultimately, the system was successful, play culture differences did emerge, as was anticipated. Organizer-seeded plotlines had a tendency to become major metaplots, as many players prioritized them as more important than personal plotlines. Occasionally, players did report feeling “shut out” of play or other players “hoarding plot.” “Hoarding plot” is a common complaint in many North American systems that include staff-run plotlines to solve, where certain players receive the bulk of the information about the overarching story and keep it for themselves or their smaller social groups. Many players are sensitive to this issue, as they perceive that individuals who receive “more plot” from the organizers hold more social status in the community.

A student interacts with an NPC ghost. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

Discerning the dynamics involved in such situations at New World Magischola is difficult: Did players intentionally exclude others? Did participants not fully realize the extent to which their personal creativity could affect play? Regardless of intentions, for some experienced North American players, a sort of larp “muscle memory” seemed to kick in occasionally, where instincts from other play communities activated. Another example of this tendency is that some players tended to look for faculty or NPCs to provide “answers,” operating under the typical assumption that people who possess in- and out-of-game authority have more information and agency to resolve situations than typical players do.

Finally, even though players were instructed to wrap up all plotlines before the formal, many left the dance area to pursue plotlines anyway, including a ritual intervention that took place in a classroom on the other side of campus, a public investigation of a student accused of using blood magic, a duel outside, and other personal NPC requests. The tendency of many North American larpers to want to escalate the plotline at the “climax” of the game overtook simply enjoying the social play of the dance for many players, especially since several characters clustered around to watch these activities, drawn to the “action.”

While some players had trouble adapting to the new mechanics, many embraced the freedom of the creative playstyle. Photo by Learn Larp LLC. — While some players had trouble adapting to the new mechanics, many embraced the freedom of the creative play style. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

Despite these difficulties, the vast majority of players seemed to adapt to the collaborative nature of play, particularly by the second and third days. Interestingly, the new players appeared to adapt easily to the style, leading many of us to become surprised when we learned that they were first-time larpers. Sometimes, previous experience can lead to expectations of play that constrict possibilities rather than enhance them. On the other hand, experienced players may know how to better insert themselves into scenes or create play for others. Future runs with experienced New World Magischola players will likely run more cohesively in this regard, as the group will have a higher herd competency in the Nordic style.

Opt-In Play: Negotiation, Calibration, Consent, and Safety

As mentioned above, the larp designers believe strongly in creating a play culture of inclusion, which is evident in the design of the workshops, signaling systems, in-game rituals, and debriefing.((Sarah Lynne Bowman and Harrison Greene, “Sample Debriefing Exercise,” Google Docs, last modified March 18, 2015, https://docs.google.com/document/d/1RcsSBhlhMw8jlZqsMsQLx5azBXT1a3L9hgx85i6TJVo/edit?usp=sharing. This exercise borrows heavily from debriefing strategies in the Nordic tradition.)) Harrison Greene and I were honored to help flesh out some of these systems, which borrow heavily from various techniques in other communities.

Players often created their own rituals, here in NWM1. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC. — Players often created their own rituals, as seen here in NWM1. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

The design of New World Magischola included explicit instructions for certain components, including the content of rituals, acceptable vs. unacceptable pranks, a form for first-years to fill out their first and last choices for their Houses during the draft, etc. These elements allowed the designers to set clear expectations for tone and appropriate behavior in the hopes of providing a fulfilling experience for the majority of players, rather than leaving this content open to chance.

House initiation ritual for Lakay Laveau in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC. — Lakay Laveau at a ritual in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

Workshops included instruction on how to play in the Nordic style, how to cast spells, how to participate in Houses, status lines for various character aspects, “hot seat” interviewing to establish character beliefs/ties, creating an off-game buddy system, etc. We also practiced the safety metatechniques, which included the standard “cut” for stopping a scene and “brake” or “Largo” for decreasing the intensity of a scene. The game included a version the “okay” symbol system developed by Aaron Vanek and Kirsten Hageleit for clandestinely checking in with other players; players could flash the okay symbol to someone else, with that person responding with a thumbs up, a so-so, or a thumbs down gesture. We also included the aforementioned pronoun workshop with verbal and visual signals for correction, which we developed with assistance from Liz Gorinsky and Sara Williamson, inspired by their groundbreaking game about gender identity See Me Now.((Liz Gorinsky and Sara Williamson, “See Me Now,” Fastaval 2017, last accessed July 2, 2016, http://www.fastaval.dk/aktivitet/see-me-now-2/?lang=en.)) In addition, we piloted a new technique devised by Trine Lise Lindahl and introduced by Johanna Koljonen((Johanna Koljonen, “Toolkit Premiere! Let’s Name A Bow-Out Mechanic,” Participationsafety.wordpress.com, last modified on May 30, 2016, https://participationsafety.wordpress.com/2016/05/30/toolkit-lets-name-this-baby-bow-out-mechanics/. See also Koljonen’s keynote from the Living Games Conference, “Opt-in/Opt-out Safety Systems,” YouTube, modified on Jun 10, 2016, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bFdrV3nJA8.)) that we called “Lookdown,” in which a player places their hand over their eyes to duck out of a scene without being followed or questioned.

Players could also leave a scene by saying, “I need to do something for the Chancellor…” without repercussions. We integrated the hand-raising technique, where when one person raises their hand, everyone follows suit and becomes quiet, as well as the “deaf applause” from American Sign Language, where people shake their hands in the air instead of clapping loudly. Additionally, players were encouraged to go off-game subtly to negotiate any sort of violence, romance, or physical touch, all of which required opt-in consent by all players involved. While some worried about the sheer amount of metatechniques to remember, players seemed to use them regularly, particularly “lookdown” and the “okay” symbol. By the end of both runs of the the larp, most players were freely asking each other for consent to hug and fluidly using “they” pronouns. Several experienced players expressed a wish to bring these techniques back to their home communities.

For player safety, the game included counselors, who players could approach in- or out-of-game with concerns. Greene and I performed these roles in the first run, with an NPC ghost serving as a counselor in the second. These roles were important release valves for some players, helping them process emotions or redirect their play. The game also implemented a Sanctuary Space,((Living Games Conference, “Sanctuary Space, Safety Team, and Crisis Management Programming,” Livinggamesconference.com, last modified on April 15, 2016, http://www.livinggamesconference.com/sanctuary-space-safety-team-and-crisis-management-programming/.)) where players could go to decompress in- or out-of-character with a counselor, a friend, or alone. Adapted from Burning Man culture and the recent Living Games Conference 2016, the Sanctuary Space provides a spot for introverted, overstimulated, or physically ill players to relax until they are ready to rejoin play.

House initiation ritual for Casa Calisaylá in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

Greene and I also helped write a guide for the House Presidents for creating initiation rituals to welcome first-years. These rituals were not to include any sort of hazing or other humiliating play and should create feelings of trust among the House members.

A member of Casa Calisaylá howls "awoo," the House chant. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC. — A member of Casa Calisaylá howls “awoo,” the House chant. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

During this ritual, first-years were assigned a second year mentor, giving players an extra connection within the game. Emergent ritual concepts included imbuing one’s intention into an item, puzzle rooms, summonings, finding one’s spirit cryptid in the astral plane, leading first-years blindfolded through a “wall of sound” through instruments and voices, etc. Many players reported having powerful experiences and even moments of catharsis during the House rituals. Additionally, players were warned in workshops against mean-spirited play between House members and Houses themselves. Friendly rivalries were fine, while purposeful ostracization or trash-talking was discouraged unless consensual between all parties.

All of these techniques encourage what Brown and Morrow call “Playing for Empathy”((Maury Brown and Benjamin A. Morrow, “Breaking the Alibi: Fostering Empathy by Reuniting the Player and the Character,” in The Wyrd Con Companion Book 2015, ed. Sarah Lynne Bowman (Los Angeles: Wyrd Con, 2015), 102-116, https://www.dropbox.com/s/xslwh0uxa544029/WCCB15-Final.pdf?dl=0)) and “People-Centered Design,”((Maury Brown, “People-Centered Design,” YouTube, last modified on June 10, 2016, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZY9wLUMCPY.)) in which the comfort level of members of the community is more important than the story.

A New World Awaits

Having played as a professor in College of Wizardry, an NPC counselor in the first run of New World Magischola, and a House President in the second run, I have seen the power of both larps to bring in new players, re-enchant the Mundane world, and produce powerful experiences.

Players forged new in- and out-of-game friendships, here between two "opposing" House presidents. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC. — Players forged new in- and out-of-game friendships, here between two “opposing” House presidents after the larp. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

The progressive nature of the themes of New World Magischola in particular produced a powerful sense of belongingness and purpose for many of us in run 2. Our Dan Obeah house motto was “Be the change. Break the chains. Change the world,” a Ghandi-inspired reminder that each of us is capable of social change if we use wisdom and strive toward the greater good. We also developed a five fingered, palm-open salute to show unity between the Houses; characters from other Houses could press palms together to show solidarity. This feeling of collective connectivity was palpable in both runs.

Preliminary data from a survey designed by Markus Montola suggest that player responses to the first run of New World Magischola are overwhelmingly positive, both when evaluating whether they had a “great game” and whether this was their “best larp experience ever.” According to the preliminary results, players generally felt “psychologically and emotionally safe,” and almost all of the respondents reported having made new friends as a result of the game.

How New World Magischola will affect the world of larp in North America remains to be seen, but I hope for great things, as players from previously separated communities come together and experience something unique and magical.

Cover photo: A first year receives their House tie during the drafting ceremony, courtesy of Learn Larp LLC. All other photos used with permission from Learn Larp LLC.

Date: June 16-19, June 23-26, July 21-24 and July 28-31, 2016

Location: University of Richmond in Richmond, Virginia, United States

Duration: 4 days including workshops, play, and debriefing

Participants: 140-165 per run

Participation Fee: $375 to $895, $450 for a regular ticket

Website: https://magischola.com/

Credits

Producers: Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, Learn Larp LLC.

Make-up Lead: Katherine Kira “Tall Kat” McConnell. Prosthetics by Mark Mensch

Costuming Lead: Derek Herrera.

Stitchers: Jenny Underwood, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer WinterRose, Amber Feldman, Summer Donovan, Michele Mountain, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jennifer Klettke, Kristen Moutry, Caryn Johnson, Datura Matel

Music: Original songs (lyrics and music) by Austin Nuckols (Maison DuBois, Lakay Laveau, Casa Calisaylá and House Croatan) and Leah K. Blue (Dan Obeah), lyrics to New World Magischola Anthem by Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, music by Austin Nuckols. Other music and sound by Evan Torner and Austin Shepherd

Props: Mike Young, Carrie Matteoli, Indiana Thomas, Summer Donovan, Kevin Donovan, Gordon Olmstead-Dean, Jason Morningstar, Matt Taylor, Molly Ellen Miller, Michael Boyd, Moira Parham, Martin John Manco, Ken Brown, Dale, Laura Young, Harry Lewis, Mark Daniels, Michael Pucci, Terry Smith of Stagecoach Theater Productions, Yvonne and Dirk Parham, Jen Wong, Caryn Johnson, Jess Pestlin, Orli Nativ, Kaitlin Smith, The Center for the Arts of Greater Manassas at the Candy Factory, Melissa Danielle Penner, Jess Sole, Liselle Awwal, Nathan Love.

Helpers and advisors: Anders Berner, Claus Raasted, Christopher Sandberg, Mike Pohjola, Bjarke Pedersen, Johanna Koljonen, Anne Serup Grove, Mikolaj Wicher, Jamie MacDonald, Eevi Korhonen, Markus Montola, Jaakko Stenros, Staffan Rosenberg, Anna Westerling, Michael Pucci, Ashley Zdeb, Emily Care Boss, Daniel Hocutt, Charles Bo Nielsen, Joe Ennis, Kristin Bezio, Rob Balder, Kat Jones, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Harrison Greene.

Assistance with writing, editing, graphic design, music, art: Frank Beres, Claus Raasted, Richard Wetzel, Bethy Winkopp, Oriana Almquist, Craig Anderson, Zach Shaffer, Erica Schoonmaker, Madeleine Wodjak, Toivo Voll, Marie DelRio, Mike Young, Laura Young, Anna Yardney, Lee Parmenter, Stephanie Simmons, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jessica Acker, Jason Woodland, Jason Arne, Harrison Greene, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Kristi Kalis, Quinn Milton, Anna Kovatcheva, Browning Porter, Orli Nativ, Rhiannon Chiacchiaro, Miranda Chadbourne, Lars Bundvad, Ffion Evans, David Horsh, Dani Castillo, Frank Caffran Castillo, Dayna Lanza, Sarah Brand, Tara Clapper, Suzy Pop, David Neubauer, Chris Bergstresser, Jason Morningstar, Evan Torner, Peter Woodworth, Peter Svensson, Daniel Abraham, Harry Lewis, Alexis Moisand, Alissa Erin Murray, Jennifer Klettke, Kathryn Sarah, Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Austin Nuckols, Leah Blue, Joelle Scarnati, Dan Luxenberg, Chad Brinkley, David Clements, Niels Ull Harremoës, Adria Kyne, Emily Heflin.

Production and logistics: Austin Shepherd, Claus Raasted, Olivia Anderson, Kristin Bezio, Shayna Alley, Mike Young, Zach Shaffer, Dayna Lanza, Derek Herrera, Kristin Moutrey, Jenny Underwood, Jennifer WinterRose, Caryn Johnson, Amber Feldman, Michele Mountain, Summer Donovan, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer Klettke, Datura Metel, Amanda Schoen, Mark Mensch, Katherine McConnell, Chris Bergstresser, Christopher Amherst, Holly Butterfield, Uriah Brown, Kyle Lian, Evan Torner, Jeff Moxley, Ashley Zdeb, Thomas Haynes, Mikolaj Wicher, David Donaldson, Brandy Dilworth and the staff of the University of Richmond Summer Conference Services office.

Chasing Bleed – An American Fantasy Larper at Wizard School

Published on

2016-07-01

in

Documentation

Chasing Bleed – An American Fantasy Larper at Wizard School

Written by

Tara M. Clapper

In June of 2016, I went to wizard school.

I’m a larper, so that’s kind of an expected thing. But this wasn’t just any larp experience: this was New World Magischola, a Nordic-inspired game on American soil. Like many Americans who participated in the game, I was equal parts excited and intimidated.

I knew I’d have a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but I wasn’t prepared for the loving and supporting community that would stick with me weeks after the event.

This article describes how I felt about my experience as someone who comes from an American campaign boffer fantasy larp background.

My Background as a Larper

I’ve been participating in live action role playing games for about eight years. I entered the hobby when I attended a PvP (player vs. player) boffer larp called Vanguard (initially Portal II), the sequel to a popular game located in South Jersey in the Northeastern United States.

After sampling a few other games in similar play style, I joined the staff of Seventh Kingdom IGE to handle the out-of-game responsibility of marketing for the first few years of its run. I marketed the game as more immersive((In a US context immersion usually means something external to the player, what is more often called 360 degree illusion in the Nordic countries. Immersion is mostly understood to be an internal state in the Nordic traditions.)) than other local games. I still play there as a PC (player character).

Years later, I began attending larps in other genres, such as the sci-fi Mercenaries of the Galactic Frontier Campaign in the Mystic Realms Multiverse, as well as games within the fantasy genre. Most significantly, I began larping at conventions and played freeform games such as those in #Feminism: A Nano-Games Anthology.

As I started to expand my interest in larps beyond those played primarily in my region, I felt and acted upon a strong desire to blend the styles. When I started attending Double Exposure events and played in This Miracle, a freeform larp by Lizzie Stark and Nick Fortugno focusing on religion and rituals, I asked the other players for permission to take back one of the rituals we’d created and use it as a ritual to an existing god at my home larp.

When I portrayed my established character in the ritual setting, I brought a more aggressive character and play style more commonly used in American fantasy boffer combat games. It’s my hope that both games benefited from this blend and small exchange, and it’s this satisfaction in doing so that led me to snag a ticket for New World Magischola.

New World Magischola is a larp all about attending college as a wizard. It relies on North American lore and traditions and is inspired by the massively successful College of Wizardry, which is run in a castle in Poland.

My Goals at New World Magischola

Nordic larpers played alongside American larpers at New World Magischola

Having experienced immersion and bleed((Bleed is when emotions bleed over between player or character, in either direction.)) at my regular game, I looked for an enhanced version of this experience at New World Magischola. So often, American larpers in my region see bleed primarily as a negative consequence of immersion and over-committed role-play, but I enjoy it as a way to learn more about an aspect of myself.

After I got to know the experienced role-players I’d interact with at New World Magischola via online conversations and Google Hangout sessions prior to the game, I let them know that I was going for some emotionally driven roleplay centered around certain themes.

This type of play is far from impossible to obtain at my usual fantasy games, I should note – one time I experienced missing someone in character and found the scene a cathartic way for me and others to process the real life sudden loss of a beloved member of our larp community. While this type of play is hesitantly accepted in my usual larp community, it is not the norm. Additionally, other real-life societal expectations sometimes endure in the community. For example, the community may more readily accept a woman crying than a man.

Goal 1: Immersion

“Full immersion is dangerous,” one of my friends had told me previously. And he has a point: if you become the character to the point of losing track of the rules in a game involving combat or if you fail to recognize safety words and others’ triggers, immersion could be very dangerous. However, internalizing rules systems – no matter the complexity – has been a safe, useful strategy for me in the past. (This does require either a pre-existing familiarity of the rules system or a game without too many rules).

Having some experience with immersion, feeling comfortable with other participants, and trusting in the organizers, I decided to play as immersively as possible, even opting for an in-game sleeping space. (At New World Magischola, dorm rooms are considered off-game by default.)

The character I played at New World Magischola — Minerva — was stern and often angry. She was rarely effusive with positive emotions. This is a stringent contrast to My Seventh Kingdom IGE character (Ceara) – she’s one of the bubblier characters in game. Minerva hid her expressive vocal talent; Ceara thrives on self-expression. I wanted to play a markedly different character and felt that in a Nordic-style game, my character development would be less hindered (as compared to the American fantasy setting) if I chose to play a character who wasn’t inherently happy.

In real life, I always encounter articles about finding happiness or avoiding negativity. However, life has negative moments. I need to deal with them, not shove them aside. Playing Minerva allowed me to explore this thematically and as a process in a way that the real world does not allow.

Result of Immersion at New World Magischola:

I was out-of-game for less than an hour between game on and game off. I began to feel fully immersed less than an hour into the game. I felt or actively went out of game only for:

Cut scenes (for emotional safety)
To access my phone to check in with my dog sitters
Experiencing anxiety about getting lost (I’m horrible with maps and the campus is large)
A few selfies to document my experience, which I did off-game only because I smile and my character generally doesn’t
Self-care – I had to pause and take a nap; I had to take medication

Immersion helped me expose and confront many negative behaviors – and play up qualities of myself I wish to show to the world more often. Since the game’s end, I have pursued active bleed for the following positive habits once I noticed them forming as a result of the game experience:

Reduction of negative self-talk (“I’m so stupid; I can’t figure out where to find my keys, how can I possibly do anything of significance?”)
Asking for help when I need it: I had a support network in-game. We’re in an out-of-game Facebook group together. Today I asked them for support with a trying situation and I got it.
Being myself instead of what the world expects of me: Sometimes I’m not happy, and that’s okay. Not going to fake it until I make it – I’d rather just avoid wasting my time worrying about the approval of people who don’t matter.
Creative problem-solving: I often feel a loss of control when there is no immediate answer to the problem. How can I use the resources I have to work around that helplessness?
Only apologize when necessary: Apologies are more meaningful when they are rare and reserved for sincerity. I’m not going to apologize to someone if they’re standing in my way or talking over me – but I will apologize if I stand in their way or talk over them.
Respect for proper pronouns: As an editor of subject matter in different fields and subcultures, I can make an active impact regarding this change. I will not wait for a style book to change the way “they” is used. I’ll just make the change. Small policy, large impact.

When the game ended, the debriefing materials and counselors asked us to focus on what we’d like to take away and what we’d like to leave behind. I was surprised to find that I wanted to take away so many things.

Goal 2: Explore Minerva’s Themes: Grief and Loyalty

Having had a positive, cathartic experience exploring grief among trusted friends at a fantasy game, I elected to explore the topic again here. In everyday life, I feel a pressure to “be strong,” especially since other women in geek culture have confessed to looking at me as an influencer.

However, I understand that being strong also means being real about strong emotions and coping with them. New World Magischola provided me with an opportunity to explore and resolve issues that were holding me back.

Grief

I miss my grandfather a lot. He passed away in 2014. When I received my character sheet for New World Magischola, I noticed that her grandfather was a mundane country musician. When I later had the opportunity to request a scene, I asked that the grandfather’s ghost come to find Minerva at school.

I noted on the request form that I was going for some closure and intentional bleed here to keep all parties informed for emotional safety. I was confident that the people handling this would have good judgment, and they did.

The scene created was extremely touching. My character sang to her grandfather and the scene pushed her to accept and process her emotions more readily. I’m extremely grateful to those who helped with the scene, knowing what it meant, and that no one questioned my ability to determine what level of intentional bleed was appropriate for me.

This scene was part of the reason I felt so much peace after I came home from game.

Some people, even in the larp scene, find this whole experience weird or think that bleed is only something negative. While I’ve experienced negative effects of bleed, I more commonly utilize it as a very powerful tool for self-discovery and self-improvement. However, I struggle with a lack of validation for that strategy in my usual larp scene.

Loyalty

I enjoy being valued. Unfortunately, this can manifest in negative attention-seeking behaviors in the real world, like wanting to be noticed by people who mean to harm or manipulate me and others. I used the game as an opportunity to explore loyalty to an entire group of people (my character’s House).

Although Minerva had more personal connections with some than others (and although some of those people weren’t necessarily doing things for the good of the world), this was a much healthier way for my character (and myself) to seek positive reinforcement, approval, and loyalty.. As Minerva, I was able to turn that constant approval into positive actions, like making new spells or mentoring a new House initiate with confidence.

This process is an exemplary one for me to internalize. I don’t want to waste energy on the wrong people, but there are some people in my life who deserve my loyalty. Roleplaying Minerva helped me learn how to differentiate between the two.

Both Minerva and Ceara are extremely loyal characters. This is one of the more rewarding traits for me to play and makes me feel like I can seek and give approval to others in both settings in an emotionally healthy way.

Exploring a World Without ‘-isms’

The week before I went to New World Magischola, my website about women in geek culture was hacked. This happened as my site hosted a series of panels about women in geek culture, representation in films, and communities of color and safe spaces at Wizard World Philly, an annual fan convention in Philadelphia.

The hack may or may not have been coincidental, but the effects were very real: I felt angry, unsafe, and, defeated.

Going into the game, especially after this, was the challenge of playing in a world without “isms.” I’m white, cisgender, and heterosexual, and I’m aware that I likely project many microaggressions unintentionally towards marginalized people.

Additionally, as illustrated by the website hack example, I feel disadvantaged as a woman living in a patriarchal society. I wasn’t sure how I could even begin to pretend to live in something else, so I made it a personal challenge to recognize equality as part of the Magimundi: the magical world in New World Magischola.

I was somewhat accustomed to this in my home larp as my character represents a “might makes right” society. While power matters more than gender in the game setting and the real-world game culture, there are still occasionally some gender dynamics in play (and I willfully explore some of those in-game relationships).

Without the existence of sexism holding me (the player) back at New World Magischola, I found that my character did not question herself very often, and that other characters challenged her on ideas and associations rather than physical characteristics, appearance, or clothing.

Being Perceived as Capable

Minerva was seen as capable as most others in the world because the roleplay mattered more than a preconceived notion of what it meant to be “able.” While I do suffer from chronic pain, it’s usually not visible. I am, however, short in height and frequently talked over by men. Yet within the world, I did not experience this negativity and I was not held back by it.

From a place of privilege, I also found it immersively easier to think person-first: “they’re a Marshal” or “she’s a member of Dan Obeah” versus seeing differences and disabilities as a primary identifying characteristic. It’s not about defining someone else, but being very aware of how they prefer to be identified and defined (or not). It’s important to recognize how someone else wants to be thought of: is this part of who they are? Do they identify this way as a primary means of definition? New World Magischola caused me to think about these things and have enlightening conversations about them later.

The game world is all about what you can do, not your real or perceived limitations – and your abilities are based on magical prowess and how you interact with the world, not a character sheet with hit points and skills.

I found my real-world biases exposed and as a result, I commit to fighting them post-game.

I also wish to note that the players of the game did explore themes of inclusion allegorically. I made the choice to downplay my character’s biases in certain instances, especially following the recent shooting in Orlando. As my character felt especially close to a vampire hater, I learned that sometimes hate originates from a pain in someone who feels they can’t be healed.

For further analysis on these themes, please read a queer perspective.

Game Format and Timing

The most significant adjustments I had to make in going from an American fantasy campaign boffer larp to New World Magischola involved game format and timing. In most of the games I’ve played, the climax of the story occurs towards the end of the game in a “main mod,” during which the main characters and their NPC (non-player character) allies take on the big bad villain of the month.

What Is a Larp Module?

Modules, or “mods.” typically involve planned scenes during which PCs are presented with opportunities to interact with NPCs and environments in a battle and/or roleplay context. An example: a known friendly NPC acts as a “hook,” asking for adventurers to help him get to another location safely. On the way, the group is attacked by waiting monsters (NPCs). While this is typical of American fantasy campaign style, mods can involve only two people and a high level of emotional intensity. The “main mod” is typically inclusive of the entire group and may involve grand melee combat.

At a game like New World Magischola, this isn’t necessarily the case. The big event at the end is the formal ball. Like classes and meals, it’s built into the schedule of the game. It’s a protected space with wards, so nothing bad can happen there; I got the impression from some College of Wizardry veterans that you should even have your plot wrapped up before the ball.

Emotionally, I was pleasantly surprised at the way the event worked for me and some members of my character’s House. The game got more emotional for me over time. At one point, my character was upset and there were tears. One of the counselors (who are brilliantly counselors in game, but will also talk to you out of game if necessary) came over to check on me. In the last twenty minutes of the game, I managed to wrap up my plot in a way that prevented too much negative bleed.

Competition: Playing to Win, Playing to Lose, and the “Magic” Combination

It’s often assumed that:

American larpers play to win: competitive play in which the game can be “won;”
Nordic larpers play to lose: making choices to create the most interesting or moving scene even if that has negative consequences for their character.

While I love competitive elements, I’ve also seen them create a destructive or win-focused environment in some games and gaming cultures.

At New World Magischola, much of the in-game competition was enhanced by personal rivalry. This especially makes sense due to the elaborate pre-game relationship building some wished to partake in.

In both gaming environments, I have noticed in-game competition taken a little too far — teasing on Facebook about one culture or House being better than another, chants disparaging one group instead of simply promoting one’s own. Overall, I felt like the spirit at New World Magischola was more welcoming, but that could also be due to a “grass is always greener” or honeymoon effect.

Immersion was prevalent in both styles, though I found myself more frequently and more fully immersed in the Nordic style game. This was due to several reasons:

I didn’t have to do math to think about how many hit points I had
The setting, while magical, was modern, so things like “mundane cars” didn’t have to be “dragons”
Most out-of-game communication took place before the game, very briefly, or through non-invasive hand signals (as opposed to narration or describing things that weren’t actually there)

Immersion Versus Playing to Lose

That said, I didn’t embrace “play to lose” as much as some Nordic style gamers do. This is because of immersion. I was always conscious of safety and ensuring others’ comfort as players, but I wasn’t thinking “what will make a more interesting story?” or even “what would my character do?” Instead, I had chosen to play a reactive character and I did.

In retrospect, there were things I could have done to make more interesting scenes. There were also actions other players took to ensure better scenes for me, but for the most part, I’m glad I stuck to simply being my character and setting her up in a way that encouraged kindness to other players, involving others (not hoarding information), and dramatic, decisive involvement.

What Others Said: Too Nordic or Not Nordic Enough?

I have not played a larp in Europe, but I did hear some College of Wizardry vets describe some differences between the two games. I got the impression that there is less hand-holding at College of Wizardry and less attention to various sensitivities.

As a player, safety is important to me. I need to feel physically and emotionally safe before I can experience immersion, and the rules set in place at New World Magischola made that possible.

Effects of Bleed: Expected and Unexpected

Having experienced bleed before in campaign games, I did expect some lasting effects. I’ve had players treat me poorly because they did not agree with or understand something my character did. Some of them did this unintentionally or they would simply not admit to bleed — since it’s such a forbidden thing in some American larp.

I found that the intentional bleed I sought at New World Magischola was there and it was transformative. Weeks later, I feel like I really dove into the grieving process and gave myself closure by experiencing grief in game.

What I did not expect was such a strong bond with the other players. Prior to the game, I’d been going through a great deal of personal difficulty and hadn’t been able to connect with other players to the degree I’d wanted, mostly due to real world strain and time limitations. Plus, I thought I’d only be playing this character for a few days: why was it worth it to invest so much time and money into character creation and relationships?

As I mentioned previously, I did spend time on Google Hangouts with the players of my character’s House presidents and other members of our House before game. I was pretty comfortable with everyone in the Hangouts, so this made me able to hop right into character once we were in game.

They seemed like cool people and once we started talking about character development, I could tell that they were all very talented and creative.

What I was not expecting was the out-of-game attachment I’d feel to other players I interacted with in-game. It’s been more than a week since the game has ended and it feels really weird if I don’t talk to the player of my character’s roommate every other day or so.

There’s also the shared experience: it helps me to know that other people miss me. I feel very validated in all of my emotions and actions surrounding the game.

I did find that my return to “normal life” happened a bit faster than that of others. This was likely due to:

Short travel time (6 hours) and little time spent “in transit” (airports, etc.)
Formal and informal debriefing following the game
Immediate return to work
My own expectations for intentional bleed
Being accustomed to returning to work immediately after an intense RP weekend

The need to remain connected with other players was so intense it was surprising. I found that others in the community were experiencing similar feelings, and once I realized that my feelings were typical for the experience, I accepted them. Now I have New World Magischola friends I’ve already seen in person again and many more that I speak to on Facebook regularly. Aside from the positive bleed (particularly less negative self-talk) I took away from the game, my new friends are the greatest benefit of having played in this community.

Blending Traditions: Reconciliation and Deliberate Infusions

Moving forward, I’m prepared to blend styles as much as existing games will allow. I find the “main mod” in campaign larps irresistible — but in Nordic style games, players are empowered to create plot themselves. Having emotional scenes at the end of the New World Magischola game was a highlight for me. There’s no reason I couldn’t have also had a big duel as well.

I have to accept the fact that there isn’t a big finale, necessarily, in the Nordic style, but that doesn’t mean I can’t work within the format to create something satisfying for myself and others.

Player empowerment is something I want to bring back with me into Seventh Kingdom. As I play a character in a leadership position, I’m already empowered and expected to do some things for the players and characters in my group. While I don’t want to push the limits of what I’m permitted to do — there’s no making up spells on the fly when there’s a 300 page rulebook — I realize that I can create customs and traditions for my character’s kingdom, get them staff approved if necessary, and run rituals and other events within the player group.

During a run of This Miracle at Dreamation in 2014, I wasn’t sure about freeform and Nordic style games. It felt more comfortable for me to play a familiar character, so I played Ceara from Seventh Kingdom. There were not too many character limitations and playing a developed character seemed to help other players as well.

During the game, we created rituals together. One of the rituals we created reminded my character very much of her culture in Seventh Kingdom. With the players’ permission, I took the ritual back to my home larp and involved them in it at the game. The ritual helped to engage new players by providing them with something to do. In this way, I’ve been blending games and styles naturally and the biggest benefits are:

How increasingly comfortable I become in multiple styles
How I provide engaging content that helps other players and enhances the storylines of other characters.

Financial Privilege and Accessibility

Prior to playing New World Magischola, I had been a bit put off by some players in the Nordic scene. While I was open-minded, some of them didn’t believe that I had achieved immersion in “just a boffer larp.” That’s hurtful, because I’m proud of the intense roleplay that happens at Seventh Kingdom and I work very hard as a player to foster that aspect of the culture at the larp.

Additionally, there are comments like “you need to play a game in Europe.” That implies a lot of financial privilege. Like most American larpers, I can’t simply afford to fly to Poland on a whim and play in a castle (even though I would love to play College of Wizardry). At best, for most campaign larpers, that would involve sacrificing their home game for a once per year experience. And when your social community revolves around larp and you enjoy larp, that’s a depressing thought.

Attending New World Magischola was a privilege for me. I made sacrifices to go, as did other members of my household. I’m eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner this week because I wanted to have the right props for the game two weeks ago. That’s not the worst thing ever, but it goes to show that not everyone can easily afford to attend. I was only able to go because I snagged a lightning round ticket during the New World Magischola Kickstarter.

It was worth the equivalent of copay for 19 sessions of therapy that it cost, and was at least as cathartic, providing me with a vehicle for self-affirmation, inclusion, and positivity supported by a loving community.

American Larpers: A Note on Superiority, Elitism, and Guilt

New World Magischola fell on the same weekend of my beloved Seventh Kingdom IGE. I had no small amount of guilt over heading to another game instead of one I’ve played every month (with one exception, when I was in a car accident) for years.

I lessened this guilt by taking the opportunity to make sure my kingdom group at Seventh Kingdom had everything they needed, to send in my monthly reports and character letters, and to let the game’s staff know I wouldn’t be around.

I had major FOMO (fear of missing out) regarding Seventh Kingdom the whole way down to New World Magischola. By the time the game was over, I was so overtaken with the immersive experience and intentional bleed of New World Magischola that I didn’t even think about Seventh Kingdom until my friend asked – and then I checked the phone to make sure my kingdom still existed in the game and that the king still lived!

The general perception in some international larp communities is that American fantasy boffer larping is pretty low-brow and that Nordic larp experiences are intense, emotional, have less rules, and therefore better. Following New World Magischola, players originating from both styles admitted to these perceptions on Facebook and confessed concern and regret over how it could have affected their play. Most had positive experiences and were so grateful to find that the stereotypes were not entirely true.

Coming back from my first large-scale Nordic-style game and going back to my core group of friends who larp here, I wasn’t sure how to discuss my experiences with them. It was clear I had fallen in love with the new game and the play style; I harbored guilt that I developed a familial relationship in three days akin to one that had taken three years to develop in a campaign setting. This also extended to my non-larp geek friends. “You had to be there” doesn’t sound welcoming. I’m still trying to think of a way to express my appreciation for both styles without sounding superior in either social group.

I tried discussing my experiences with a few close friends from the American larp scene. I called Seventh Kingdom a “boffer game” like Nordic larpers do and got an immediate scowl from my friend. I see myself as continuing to enjoy both styles, but expecting different things out of them:

Games like Seventh Kingdom let you work over time to earn big achievements, which is extremely rewarding. You can’t just “make yourself” a diplomat in that game, but there are avenues to earn it, for example. I like having to earn something over time.
The triumphant feeling of fighting “the Big Bad” at the main mod at the end of the game is exhilarating. I prefer this format of action.
Less rules (like at New World Magischola) promotes immersion and prevents rules lawyering.
Relationship-building is a crucial aspect of both types of games, so long as they involve collaborative storytelling.
Open discussion of bleed, lack of shame, and the unabashed acceptance of the game culture at New World Magischola is refreshing. It’s more than a honeymoon phase, but the fact that it’s new to me only enhances my feelings.

I’m not going to hide the fact that New World Magischola made me a better larper and a stronger, more confident, and more empathetic person. I want to carry those positive traits over to all of my larping experiences.

Recommendations for American Larpers

American larpers attending Nordic games in general and New World Magischola in particular should keep the following in mind:

You won’t get accused of being a “special snowflake.” Make a scene request. Enhance a scene. Do something dramatic. It only makes the collaborative storytelling experience better.
Some preplanned relationships and player interaction helps, especially if you want to feel more comfortable. There’s no need to put an excessive amount of time into it, though. You can do this online, but connecting in person and at the workshops at the beginning of the game is especially recommended.
Wear or do something iconic that is specific only to your character. For me, it was a hat.
In some scenes, you’re a supporting character. In other scenes, you’re the star.
If you need help improvising or can’t figure out a solution to something, ask in-character. Minerva asked her mentor and professors for help with a spell, which made sense in game.

These experiences and comparisons are only mine. Given their own backgrounds and individual larp experiences, each player will have different feelings regarding what it’s like to play at New World Magischola. For me, the game was an unforgettable, life-changing, shared experience.

In the American games I play in the northeastern U.S., admitting to bleed comes with a stigma. At New World Magischola, it comes with the territory. I’d like to see American games adapt a healthier mentality here: it potentially makes role-play and combat more meaningful. New World Magischola wasn’t afraid of empowering players to affect the game world; I’d love to see some of these restrictions similarly lifted in American games. Some do that to a degree — at Seventh Kingdom IGE, characters are encouraged to spend “patronage points” to influence politics behind the scenes. More of that, maybe not dependent on mechanics, would benefit these games.

At New World Magischola, people were focused on the experience. We were told there is no “world plot” like there often is in American games, and there was no guaranteed awesome “main mod” moment towards the end of the game. New World Magischola could meet more American larpers’ expectations by making a slight adaptation to them. The announcement of the house cup winners did provide some closure to the event and players seemed to understand that it was important to tie up plots if possible, but a final, definitive and dramatic surprise scene involving combat might have improved the closure.

Going forward, I aim to willfully contribute to the blending of these styles, especially as games and systems allow. As long as safety is considered, I’m not going to hold back the emotional depth of my roleplay at American games; as long as there is the opportunity to create more final and decisive action, I’ll work on initiating larger scenes in Nordic style games.

My combined experiences in multiple styles and my interactions with game designers have inspired me to pursue larp development. In all styles I’ve experienced, I’ve witnessed sincere community development largely aimed at supporting and caring for other players and the game. I’m inspired – and if I can provide this to others even for a few hours, I will be able to make a positive contribution to the larp community which has changed me for the better.

Cover photo: Wizards posing for a photo before the student ball (play, courtesy of Learn Larp LLC). All other photos used with permission from Learn Larp LLC.

New World Magischola

Date: June 16-19, June 23-26, July 21-24 and July 28-31, 2016

Location: University of Richmond in Richmond, Virginia, United States

Duration: 4 days including workshops, play, and debriefing

Participants: 140-165 per run

Participation Fee: $375 to $895, $450 for a regular ticket

Website: https://magischola.com/

Credits

Producers: Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, Learn Larp LLC.

Make-up Lead: Katherine Kira “Tall Kat” McConnell. Prosthetics by Mark Mensch

Costuming Lead: Derek Herrera.

Stitchers: Jenny Underwood, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer WinterRose, Amber Feldman, Summer Donovan, Michele Mountain, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jennifer Klettke, Kristen Moutry, Caryn Johnson, Datura Matel

Music: Original songs (lyrics and music) by Austin Nuckols (Maison DuBois, Lakay Laveau, Casa Calisaylá and House Croatan) and Leah K. Blue (Dan Obeah), lyrics to New World Magischola Anthem by Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, music by Austin Nuckols. Other music and sound by Evan Torner and Austin Shepherd

Props: Mike Young, Carrie Matteoli, Indiana Thomas, Summer Donovan, Kevin Donovan, Gordon Olmstead-Dean, Jason Morningstar, Matt Taylor, Molly Ellen Miller, Michael Boyd, Moira Parham, Martin John Manco, Ken Brown, Dale, Laura Young, Harry Lewis, Mark Daniels, Michael Pucci, Terry Smith of Stagecoach Theater Productions, Yvonne and Dirk Parham, Jen Wong, Caryn Johnson, Jess Pestlin, Orli Nativ, Kaitlin Smith, The Center for the Arts of Greater Manassas at the Candy Factory, Melissa Danielle Penner, Jess Sole, Liselle Awwal, Nathan Love.

Helpers and advisors: Anders Berner, Claus Raasted, Christopher Sandberg, Mike Pohjola, Bjarke Pedersen, Johanna Koljonen, Anne Serup Grove, Mikolaj Wicher, Jamie MacDonald, Eevi Korhonen, Markus Montola, Jaakko Stenros, Staffan Rosenberg, Anna Westerling, Michael Pucci, Ashley Zdeb, Emily Care Boss, Daniel Hocutt, Charles Bo Nielsen, Joe Ennis, Kristin Bezio, Rob Balder, Kat Jones, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Harrison Greene.

Assistance with writing, editing, graphic design, music, art: Frank Beres, Claus Raasted, Richard Wetzel, Bethy Winkopp, Oriana Almquist, Craig Anderson, Zach Shaffer, Erica Schoonmaker, Madeleine Wodjak, Toivo Voll, Marie DelRio, Mike Young, Laura Young, Anna Yardney, Lee Parmenter, Stephanie Simmons, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jessica Acker, Jason Woodland, Jason Arne, Harrison Greene, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Kristi Kalis, Quinn Milton, Anna Kovatcheva, Browning Porter, Orli Nativ, Rhiannon Chiacchiaro, Miranda Chadbourne, Lars Bundvad, Ffion Evans, David Horsh, Dani Castillo, Frank Caffran Castillo, Dayna Lanza, Sarah Brand, Tara Clapper, Suzy Pop, David Neubauer, Chris Bergstresser, Jason Morningstar, Evan Torner, Peter Woodworth, Peter Svensson, Daniel Abraham, Harry Lewis, Alexis Moisand, Alissa Erin Murray, Jennifer Klettke, Kathryn Sarah, Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Austin Nuckols, Leah Blue, Joelle Scarnati, Dan Luxenberg, Chad Brinkley, David Clements, Niels Ull Harremoës, Adria Kyne, Emily Heflin.

Production and logistics: Austin Shepherd, Claus Raasted, Olivia Anderson, Kristin Bezio, Shayna Alley, Mike Young, Zach Shaffer, Dayna Lanza, Derek Herrera, Kristin Moutrey, Jenny Underwood, Jennifer WinterRose, Caryn Johnson, Amber Feldman, Michele Mountain, Summer Donovan, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer Klettke, Datura Metel, Amanda Schoen, Mark Mensch, Katherine McConnell, Chris Bergstresser, Christopher Amherst, Holly Butterfield, Uriah Brown, Kyle Lian, Evan Torner, Jeff Moxley, Ashley Zdeb, Thomas Haynes, Mikolaj Wicher, David Donaldson, Brandy Dilworth and the staff of the University of Richmond Summer Conference Services office.

Published on

2016-05-19

in

Techniques

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom

Written by

Johanna Koljonen

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom is a multi-part guide to playing a teacher at the College of Wizardry and New World Magischola larps. While it was written specifically with these events in mind, it can be applied to many other larps and settings.

The texts in this series are written collectively by (in alphabetical order) Maury Brown, Stefan Deutsch, Johanna Koljonen, Eevi Korhonen, Ben Morrow, Juhana Pettersson, Maria Pettersson, Mike Pohjola, Staffan Rosenberg and Jaakko Stenros. The series is edited by Johanna Koljonen.

The seven part series is available here:

This work is distributed under a CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. That means you are allowed to use elements of this text beyond the extent of referring and linking to it as long as you credit the original authors and source. It’s not allowed to use parts of this work for commercial purposes, if you are unsure if this applies to your project, please contact us.

This is not intended as a cut and paste smorgasbord but rather a complete text. Please reference it, but avoid using parts out of context. It’s better to just link the articles where it’s appropriate for use.

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom: Part 7

Published on

2016-05-19

in

Techniques

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom: Part 7

Written by

Johanna Koljonen

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom is a multi-part guide to playing a teacher at the College of Wizardry and New World Magischola larps. While it was written specifically with these events in mind, it can be applied to many other larps and settings.

The texts in this series are written collectively by (in alphabetical order) Maury Brown, Stefan Deutsch, Johanna Koljonen, Eevi Korhonen, Ben Morrow, Juhana Pettersson, Maria Pettersson, Mike Pohjola, Staffan Rosenberg and Jaakko Stenros. The series is edited by Johanna Koljonen.

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7

Part VII: Example/Examples of How to Teach a Spell so That the Teaching Makes It Clear How to Play

This final part of the series gives practical examples on how to apply the techniques and ideas explained in the previous parts.

The Opt in/Opt out Truth Serum

The class brews a babbling beverage that is then tested on a volunteer student.

The class is told that the potion will force the object to speak out loud anything on her mind for a specific period of time (not too long, 90 seconds for instance), and therefore can be used as a truth serum by asking or tricking the subject to think about specific things (or have an antidote at hand to counter the effect, this is also usable to create an artificial stop to the exercise).

The class is also told that the point of this exercise is to practice methods of resisting the potion: you can’t stop talking, but you can cover your mouth with your hand (this is good to demonstrate to the class – keep talking but muffle the sound with your hand, so they know what to do), or you can eat something at the same time to make your speech unclear, or try to focus your mind on for instance a strong childhood memory to only tell things that “aren’t secret”.

All of these instructions are given at least once before students are asked to volunteer, so that the player knows what she is asked to do in front of the class – some will find this specific exercise very easy, others will find it hard to think of things to say and will then opt out by not volunteering.

Others from the group will be given tasks – to barrage the subject with questions (everyone can do this if the group is not enormous, in which case it can get so loud you’ll need a whistle to silence them), to hand the subject food, to clock the effect on an old-fashioned stopwatch and count down the last ten seconds, etc.

The test subject player will understand from the teaching (and can be reminded during the experiment by repeating the above) that they can now choose to do different things under the influence of the potion: speak the character’s inner monologue, blurt out secrets to further play, share something very personal about the character that they get to be embarrassed about later – or if they can’t think of anything to say (because it can actually be quite hard to speak non stop for 90 seconds) either clamp their hand in front of their mouth while continuing mumbling, or stuff themselves with cookies while talking and spray everyone with crumbs. Most will do a mixture of the above.

If the player panics or freaks out or goes completely silent or is struggling to find things to say, you as a teacher will immediately blame the potion, which was clearly not correctly brewed – “Aha! Group one, your potion is not working! As you see here, Ms McNally is sometimes silent for several seconds”, or if the player looks tormented and falters “Group two, Ms McNally manages with an impressive mental effort to resist the urge to speak – the potion works, but it’s not strong enough!”

The purpose of this is to make sure that the PLAYER can never fail. If you manage to babble for 90 seconds, that’s great play and very entertaining or moving or horrible (depending on what comes out) – but they don’t, that is still great storytelling because it manufactures a fíctional truth about the quality of the potion. And you can reward the player for volunteering by telling them, honestly, that they did great.

The groups whose potion works (or might work, if you don’t have time to test them all) can keep them for use in the game. You can urge them as homework to perform the same experiment on each other to practice resisting the potion. Another option is to tell the students that it is absolutely forbidden to take the potion from the classroom and then turn your back to them and give the student an opportunity to steal them.

The characters now know how to use the potion to get secrets. The players now know how to use the potion to give secrets, and how to brief other players about the potion while playing, so they too can access this experience of functional magic without breaking for briefing. (If the other player doesn’t understand the in-game instruction and do something else, don’t break the game to correct them – clearly the potion was unstable, or dysfunctional, or reacting badly with some other magic the target was using. Your character can wonder at this out loud).

Torture Curses in Class

This is an excerpt from Mike Pohjola’s article about playing a Dark Arts teacher at College of Wizardry.

For the larp I had prepared two lectures, and Bane gave both of them three times. The first one started with a test on their natural learning ability and on theory of the Unforgivable Curses. The second one was all about practicing the Torture Curse on other students.

He found these great one-use Solberg wands where some anonymous person had already imbued with the unforgivable Imperius Curse. (The Imperius forces the victim to do whatever the caster says.)  As you know, in a case like this, the legal responsibility for the Torture Curse is on whoever placed the Imperius Curse on the wands, but unfortunately we will never know who that wonderful person is.  So as you can see, it’s all perfectly legal and moral and educational.

The students were divided into pairs (“Partner up with someone you will have no trouble hating.” This suited Bane’s character perfectly, and also provided interesting play for the student players.), and each pair was given one of these wands.

The victim would cast the Imperius Curse on the torturer saying: “Cast the Torture Curse on me for one second.” Then the torturer would torture the victim with their own wand. After this, the victim would tell the torturer what they felt. Then they would switch. (The wand had one use per caster.) At the end of the class we would discuss our experiences, and figure out ways to use what we have learned for defense.

In one of these classes Bane had one pregnant student, Norah Asar (Pernilla Rosenberg). She was partnered up with Sebastian Dolohov (Markus Montola).

Bane did have a soft spot of sorts for protecting babies, and another one for Norah Asar. So he didn’t want the baby hurt.

Dolohov: “Professor! Can the baby be accidentally hurt when you cast the Torture Curse on the mother?” 

“NOT UNLESS YOU REALLY WANT TO TORTURE THE BABY. BUT THEN YOU WOULD HAVE TO TARGET YOUR HATRED AT THE BABY, WHICH CAN BE DIFFICULT.” 

At this Bane remembered how his own pregnant wife had been taken to Azkaban to be tortured by Dementors. ”BUT REMEMBER CLASS, YOU SHOULD NEVER USE THE TORTURE CURSE ON A BABY, ESPECIALLY AN UNBORN ONE.” 

Class snickers. 

“IN FACT, YOU SHOULDN’T USE THE TORTURE CURSE ON ANY BABY.” 

More snickering. 

“TO CORRECT MYSELF, YOU SHOULD NEVER USE THE TORTURE CURSE AT ALL, SINCE IT IS COMPLETELY ILLEGAL.”

This work is distributed under a CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. That means you are allowed to use elements of this text beyond the extent of referring and linking to it as long as you credit the original authors and source. It’s not allowed to use parts of this work for commercial purposes, if you are unsure if this applies to your project, please contact us.

This is not intended as a cut and paste smorgasbord but rather a complete text. Please reference it, but avoid using parts out of context. It’s better to just link the articles where it’s appropriate for use.

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom: Part 6

Published on

2016-05-18

in

Techniques

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom: Part 6

Written by

Johanna Koljonen

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom is a multi-part guide to playing a teacher at the College of Wizardry and New World Magischola larps. While it was written specifically with these events in mind, it can be applied to many other larps and settings.

The texts in this series are written collectively by (in alphabetical order) Maury Brown, Stefan Deutsch, Johanna Koljonen, Eevi Korhonen, Ben Morrow, Juhana Pettersson, Maria Pettersson, Mike Pohjola, Staffan Rosenberg and Jaakko Stenros. The series is edited by Johanna Koljonen.

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7

Part VI: Reasons for Your Professor Character Not to Get Personally Involved in Students’ Life-shattering Personal and/or Occult Drama, and How to Play Them

Most of the larp (but especially the last six hours of the game, when every remaining plot-line is culminating at the same time) will be great for students riding their respective plot trains, and an incoherent mess for anyone with some overview of the situation. (That’s people like you, because students will run up to you continuously to report what’s happening).

Towards the very end of the game, it therefore makes good sense for at least a few of the most powerful teacher characters to accidentally incapacitate themselves with port wine or potions to conveniently miss most of the plotting and battles – of course rewarding themselves with some other kind of awesome play, like sitting around a fireplace talking about other memorably failed proms, or making their own incoherent expedition in the wrong direction, or choosing to help the students with the most inconsequential problems, or drafting very long documents for some purportedly urgent purpose, or having an earnestly moving heart-to-heart with an unhappy student, or dancing “old people” dances on the dance floor.

A Good General Strategy All Through the Game Is to Be Exceedingly Optimistic and Trusting of Student’s Abilities

Downplay the severity of any situation and tell them that you trust them to sort it out themselves. If they are alone in the problem, ask them to go to a more senior or specialised student or get a bunch of their friends and get them to help (“you’re all smart students, of course you can do a simple banishment ritual”). If you must be co-opted into a plot, you can say this is a wonderful learning opportunity for students, so they should do most of the work and you are there just as backup in case things go bad.

You Can Ask Students with Similar Problems (or Situations That Appear to Have Narrative Similarities) to Collaborate on Solutions

If you have a student in your class with a special skill you can try attaching them to some other students’ plots (this is especially great if it’s a student who has performed poorly in the actual subject of your class: if you can identify a positive quality anyway and send them on an adventure they’ll love you for it).

Your Character Might Also Not Care about Students or Their Troubles That Much

If you have created a comically grumpy or snobbily cold-hearted character, they might simply not care if a student has gotten themselves into trouble they cannot get out of (“it’s probably their own fault”). Or they might be secretly or even openly glad that students might get injured or die (it’s weeding out the weak and the stupid or you’re just happy there will be less students for you to worry about). You might also think students are lying and telling tall tales (but this might cause them to try to prove it to you and you get sucked in).

If Your Character Has Been a Teacher for a Long Time, There Is Very Little in the Way of Student Generated Drama They Have Not Seen Before

You can play on generational differences, in an infuriating manner if possible. “When I was your age, all seniors actually had to banish a Yeti as part of their final exams – we don’t do it these days, because students just don’t have that kind of mettle”… or “this reminds me of that unfortunate business with the Harpies in ‘86…of course very few of them made it out, so I think we can all agree that the philosopher’s stone is NOT going to be the answer to your question!”

Also, You Can Always Remind the Students That There Is One Force Greater than Magic: Bureaucracy

You would love to help defend the school but there are overdue performance evaluations that need to filled right now — or there will be no school to defend come morning. Alternatively, you can start by reflecting on how to go about saving the school through the proper channels. “First of all you need to put in a request to stay mobile during curfew. Then we need to check that the janitors are informed that watering the lawn should be cancelled, if there is a pack of werewolves on the lawn. Indeed, why don’t I do that.”

This work is distributed under a CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. That means you are allowed to use elements of this text beyond the extent of referring and linking to it as long as you credit the original authors and source. It’s not allowed to use parts of this work for commercial purposes, if you are unsure if this applies to your project, please contact us.

This is not intended as a cut and paste smorgasbord but rather a complete text. Please reference it, but avoid using parts out of context. It’s better to just link the articles where it’s appropriate for use.

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom: Part 5

Published on

2016-05-17

in

Techniques

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom: Part 5

Written by

Johanna Koljonen

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom is a multi-part guide to playing a teacher at the College of Wizardry and New World Magischola larps. While it was written specifically with these events in mind, it can be applied to many other larps and settings.

The texts in this series are written collectively by (in alphabetical order) Maury Brown, Stefan Deutsch, Johanna Koljonen, Eevi Korhonen, Ben Morrow, Juhana Pettersson, Maria Pettersson, Mike Pohjola, Staffan Rosenberg and Jaakko Stenros. The series is edited by Johanna Koljonen.

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7

Part V: Authority Awry: Stop, Shut Up, Do What I Tell You

In this series, we have had lots of examples of what is encouraged play for professors. Here are a few examples of discouraged play. Professors sit in a position of authority and players (and characters) will be conditioned to obey them. This is good to an extent — the game needs to function and having students follow the directions of in-game authority figures is an important part of the game continuing to work. However, this style of larp is opt-in, which means a player always must be given a choice about what to play and how to react.

As a consequence, you should refrain from the following kinds of play.

Denying Agency

For example, a professor can offer the opportunity for a character to tell (under a spell) what is on their mind (see above). However, a professor should not suddenly put a character under a spell and then tell them what they are thinking, or what happened to them, or a family member, etc. Remember both the design of the magic system and your position as a teacher inside the fiction actively encourage you to explain what you magic will do – you can do this in an open-ended way (and perhaps even taking some extra time doing it) to allow the player choices and a second to reflect on how they want to play it.

Players should not feel ambushed, or that they have to stop what they were doing or playing as a result of what someone else did to them. An example is a professor turning another student into a vampire without their consent, or telling them that their character’s parents have died, or killing/incapacitating a student or faculty member and exorcising or resurrecting them, unless these scenes have been agreed to beforehand.

Shaming the Player (Not the Character, Whom You Have Agreed to Play Abuse With)

Professors teaching magic are also, on the meta-level, teaching the availability of safety techniques and the importance of consent-based play. A professor should never make it impossible or difficult for a player to use a safety technique such as cut or break, or make it difficult to step away or exit a scene. “Impossible” or “difficult” does not have to mean physically blocking the door or refusing to stop when asked (though these have happened). Because of a professor’s explicit in-game authority, a player who is feeling uncomfortable about continuing (like a student with a fear of snakes continuing with a cryptozoology class that may include an encounter with a snake-like creature), or even triggered by a scene, may not want to opt-out for fear of losing house points or social status.

House points should never be threatened or deducted for off-game reasons, and a player who has their character leave a scene for off-game reasons should not become the object of derision. But unless there is a specific game mechanic in play to signal off-game reasons for opting out, you will in practice not know which reactions are in and which are off. This makes it even more vital to offer students in-game opportunities to leave or not participate.

The organisers can encourage players who opt out for offgame reasons to discreetly tell the teacher-players so, just to make sure their characters will not be punished for it. But actually this can also be handled mostly or entirely in-game, assuming that all players know that playing punishments will be just as much fun as any other part of the larp. In that case, players can choose for off-game reasons to opt out of certain situations, safe in the knowledge that this might either pass entirely uncommented or open the door to a fantastic in-game experience. (For instance, at the first College of Wizardry, then set in the Harry Potter universe, the janitorial staff had students in detention participating in a dangerous ritual to destroy a horcrux).

Focusing the Attention on You, Your Power, or Your Plot to the Detriment of Other Players

For example, a professor is bored at the dance, where students are having a good time. They decide to create a scene that disrupts the scene in progress, for their own excitement and amusement.

The most problematic use of the spell casting system to my anecdotal observations were spell effects that stopped people from doing what they wanted to do, and spell effects that denied players voice (and consequently, agency). These types of actions tended to disrupt others’ gameplay without providing any “replacement play”. While these are might be enacted by student players on their own, student players are looking to Professors for behavioral precedents. What a professor does in controlled circumstances for entertainment purposes only, has a strong possibility of being reproduced by the student players. With this in mind, if the outcome of your professor’s interactions with students can be summarized as “stop/shut up”, try to find alternative outcomes that set a better precedent. (Ben Morrow)

This work is distributed under a CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. That means you are allowed to use elements of this text beyond the extent of referring and linking to it as long as you credit the original authors and source. It’s not allowed to use parts of this work for commercial purposes, if you are unsure if this applies to your project, please contact us.

This is not intended as a cut and paste smorgasbord but rather a complete text. Please reference it, but avoid using parts out of context. It’s better to just link the articles where it’s appropriate for use.

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom: Part 4

Published on

2016-05-16

in

Techniques

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom: Part 4

Written by

Johanna Koljonen

Creating Play in the Magical Classroom is a multi-part guide to playing a teacher at the College of Wizardry and New World Magischola larps. While it was written specifically with these events in mind, it can be applied to many other larps and settings.

The texts in this series are written collectively by (in alphabetical order) Maury Brown, Stefan Deutsch, Johanna Koljonen, Eevi Korhonen, Ben Morrow, Juhana Pettersson, Maria Pettersson, Mike Pohjola, Staffan Rosenberg and Jaakko Stenros. The series is edited by Johanna Koljonen.

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 –Part 6 – Part 7

Part IV: Professor Personalities

Being a Fun Professor Without Playing It All for Laughs

Magic school professors are inevitably strong characters. Whatever they are, they are to the extreme. Super wise, or bitter, or dotty, or eccentric. Actually, most of you can be eccentric, that just adds to the game.

Here are some questions to round out your character:

What is your character like in class vs. out of class?
Do they enjoy teaching? Like students? Why?
What are their pet peeves, their bitter disappointments?
If they are super controlled in class, what is something you can build in that will allow you to show another side of the character?
What is their attitude toward house points? Are they generous or stingy with them? Do they give positive points or mainly take them away for infractions?
Do they have a favorite house or branch of knowledge?
What sort of students do they favor, if any? Do they downplay or do they relish in this favoritism?
Also, what kinds of emotions do you want for the professor to inspire in the students?
What kinds of interactions would create the most interesting play for them – and you?
Will you offer to explain their dreams and other omens to them?
Will you ask them to assist you on a research project?
Will you invite a few people from each of your classes to a secret society? (Remember that secret society meetings should be designed just as much as classes are; this is true even if they are mostly social events – always ask yourself “what can we create together in this group that makes the experience of the larp richer?”)

Playing a Strict or Evil Professor

A magic school should have all kinds of teachers. Many of them are supportive, encouraging and wise role models. But at least a few should be strict and of dubious morals, who may even base their pedagogy on fear and terror. It can be a lot of fun to play at being terrified and being reprimanded, as that is such a big part of fictional magic schools.

Note: some players may be triggered by abusive play, especially from authority figures, so please save the really harsh stuff for those you have agreed to play that way with ahead of time. All play should be opt-in, because when a player (not the character) is genuinely afraid, they can lose the ability to opt out.

Practical tricks on how to play a terrifying professor:

Start a class by making everyone stand up. Wait a moment before letting them sit (as it establishes authority).
Expect punctuality, berate students who are tardy.
Hand out too much homework. (But demand that it is turned in “in five days” so that players need not actually complete it if they do not want to.)
Pick a name for your character that is impossible to pronouce, have the class practice the pronunciation (but not long enough for the class to learn it), then deduct points if someone mispronounces it. (“How can you understand someone’s ideas if you cannot even pronounce their name?”)
Don’t smile, glare a lot, keep pregnant pauses.
Keep your voice steady, never shout. When you want to emphasise something force the students to really pay attention by whispering your words.
Never use your wand. Build up expectations, but know that whatever the students have envisioned, you’ll never be able to top in game. Keep them guessing. (This is most efficient if only one teacher does it).
Place students in danger (obviously NOT the players), for example by having the student practice dangerous, illegal magic on each other. Remember to do this in a way that ensures that players can easily opt out without losing face if they don’t like the emotional content of the scene – for instance, you can ask for volunteers to take notes, observe and evaluate, or even construct a reason for students to choose to leave. If a player chooses to leave a class, never shame them or threaten them or gossip about them, in or out-of-character.
Discuss key events in history from the point of view of the “bad guys” and explain how history is written by the victors and how the “good guys” in power have done terrible things that have been hushed up. (“In this school we pride ourselves in looking at the world as it is, not as we wish it was. Your education thus far has been rife with propaganda. However, I vow to tell you what the world is like — even when the knowledge is deemed “dangerous”, “blasphemous”, or even “treasonous”.)
Have enough redeeming qualities. Maybe hint at lost innocence or a tragedy hard not to empathise with? Be fiercely devoted to your students, or maybe the protection of the school? Interesting villains are always multi-faceted. Perhaps your character is very strict until students get them started on that one topic they love, when they will suddenly spill all the dirt about their past or share magical stuff that is “really not for the undergraduate level”.

Here are some anecdotes from teacher players about expressing their personality:

“It’s fun to have very strong opinions on some things. My character for example despised Avalon school of magic. (I picked Avalon because I could remember the name.)

So I would constantly go:

“By now you should be able to cast some memory altering spells, change a person’s mood a little and boost your mental abilities. Except for those who graduated Avalon, they can barely spell their own name.”

“I’m only joking of course. I went to Avalon myself. Once. Those are the two hours of my life I’ll never get back.”

Etc etc. I was later told that it was fun especially for those who had indeed graduated from Avalon.” (Maria Pettersson)

“Ridiculous hatred is the best 🙂 My hate was directed towards a specific way to hold a wand I called “The Farmer’s Fist”. Everytime I saw someone doing it, I deducted points and said: “You’re a witch, not a farmer! Act like one!”” (Juhana Pettersson)

“I was really good at reading minds, right? So if I wanted to play somebody up I just did this.

Me: “Who created the Fides Completum spell?”

*silence*

Me: “Yes, Miss Seel, that is absolutely correct. One point to house Faust.”

The class: “But she didn’t say anything!”

Me: “Is that so? Didn’t you say it out loud, Miss Seel?”

Miss Seel: “No…”

Me: “Oh, my apologies. So, as Miss Seel here was THINKING, the spell was indeed created by Isobel Gowdie in 1658.”

Maria Pettersson

I was a mostly logical, precise and demanding teacher in the classroom, but responded to most situations outside class with either direct and snobbish judgement or positive enthusiasm. I was enthusiastic about 90% of the time when students came to me with problems. Everything that happened was WONDERFULLY interesting, or ABSOLUTELY delightful, and if student had any ideas about a solution to their problem I would very earnestly tell them that was a great idea. If they asked for immediate assistance, I’d either tell them in a blithely optimistic way that it was clearly not needed, or if it was (like some kind of actual battle with enemies outside) just be so incredibly inefficient about gathering other teachers and so on that the students had to agree to go on ahead and we’d catch up. I don’t enjoy playing battles anyway, and the best feeling is to arrive too late at a fight, patch up broken students, while listening to their jubilant war stories about how they beat the monster with just a group of JUNIORS at hand.

Johanna Koljonen

This work is distributed under a CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. That means you are allowed to use elements of this text beyond the extent of referring and linking to it as long as you credit the original authors and source. It’s not allowed to use parts of this work for commercial purposes, if you are unsure if this applies to your project, please contact us.

This is not intended as a cut and paste smorgasbord but rather a complete text. Please reference it, but avoid using parts out of context. It’s better to just link the articles where it’s appropriate for use.

Tag: New World Magischola

Pronouns on Display: Two Methods

Default Pronoun Listing and Default Gender-Inclusive Pronoun

Separate Pronoun Badges or Patches

Pros and Cons

Correcting a Pronoun Mistake

Pronoun Correction Procedure

What the Mechanic Does and Its Usefulness

Conclusion

References

Distinctions from Traditional Therapy

Advantages to Embedded Counselors

Drawbacks to Embedded Counselors

Counseling and Self-Care

Common Counseling Issues

Diegetic Interventions

Scene requests

Freeform

Plot Knowledge

Future Steps

Bibliography

Controversy around Safety and Consent-Based Play

Fairness, Immersion, Competition, and the Cult of Hardcore

More Accommodating Spaces

The Setting: Progress, not Perfection

The Mechanics: When Nordic Style Meets North Americans

Opt-In Play: Negotiation, Calibration, Consent, and Safety

A New World Awaits

New World Magischola

Credits

My Background as a Larper

My Goals at New World Magischola

Goal 1: Immersion

Result of Immersion at New World Magischola:

Goal 2: Explore Minerva’s Themes: Grief and Loyalty

Grief

Loyalty

Exploring a World Without ‘-isms’

Being Perceived as Capable

Game Format and Timing

What Is a Larp Module?

Competition: Playing to Win, Playing to Lose, and the “Magic” Combination

Immersion Versus Playing to Lose

What Others Said: Too Nordic or Not Nordic Enough?

Effects of Bleed: Expected and Unexpected

Blending Traditions: Reconciliation and Deliberate Infusions

Financial Privilege and Accessibility

American Larpers: A Note on Superiority, Elitism, and Guilt

Recommendations for American Larpers

New World Magischola

Credits

Part VII: Example/Examples of How to Teach a Spell so That the Teaching Makes It Clear How to Play

The Opt in/Opt out Truth Serum

Torture Curses in Class

Part VI: Reasons for Your Professor Character Not to Get Personally Involved in Students’ Life-shattering Personal and/or Occult Drama, and How to Play Them

A Good General Strategy All Through the Game Is to Be Exceedingly Optimistic and Trusting of Student’s Abilities

You Can Ask Students with Similar Problems (or Situations That Appear to Have Narrative Similarities) to Collaborate on Solutions

Your Character Might Also Not Care about Students or Their Troubles That Much

If Your Character Has Been a Teacher for a Long Time, There Is Very Little in the Way of Student Generated Drama They Have Not Seen Before

Also, You Can Always Remind the Students That There Is One Force Greater than Magic: Bureaucracy

Part V: Authority Awry: Stop, Shut Up, Do What I Tell You

Denying Agency

Shaming the Player (Not the Character, Whom You Have Agreed to Play Abuse With)

Focusing the Attention on You, Your Power, or Your Plot to the Detriment of Other Players

Part IV: Professor Personalities

Being a Fun Professor Without Playing It All for Laughs

Playing a Strict or Evil Professor