Tag: Self care

  • Villain Self Care

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    Villain Self Care

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    I vividly remember the first time I played a villain. After years of always opting for and being cast as the sweet and innocent characters, I signed up to a larp with a group of friends and dared ask the big question: “Can I try playing the villain?”

    Thus started my travels down the road of larp villainy – a travel filled with plenty of bumps in the road! Already during the larp, I started feeling increasingly bad. And after the larp concluded, I became riddled with guilt. I felt physically sick from what I had done to people I cared about, being the manipulative and scheming horror of a person behind many of the transgressive actions of the larp.

    I started doubting myself: Since I had been capable of playing that character, did it mean I was secretly a terrible person? After all, it might have been imaginary, but it was my brain that imagined it – every thing I said and action I took came from somewhere inside of me. Not just the character, me.

    Now, many years later, my minor identity crisis has subsided, and I have managed to not only come to peace with playing a villain, but to enjoy a good antagonist story.

    As a part of that process, I developed a strategy (or a series of steps) to help me play an antagonist in a way I find both manageable and rewarding, as well as help with the potential negative emotional effects both during and after the larp:

    1. Don’t be the lone villain.

    It can be an isolating experience playing the antagonist, so team up beforehand with someone you trust. If you are able to create an in-game relation to the person, make sure it’s one that provides positive interactions and doesn’t fall apart immediately, when confronted with your actions. If you can’t establish such an in-game relation, make sure you at least have the support off-game, e.g., someone who checks up on you, makes sure you take care of yourself, someone to brainstorm horrible actions with, or confirm you are indeed not a bad person in reality.

    2. Know your boundaries.

    A villain can be and do a multitude of things. Consider what kind of villainy you are capable of and interested in portraying – and what you should steer away from. An antagonist can be everything from the physically and emotionally violent spouse or schoolyard bully, to the disengaged leader causing the suffering of hundreds with their actions (or lack thereof). What kind of play, themes, or actions are difficult or impossible for you to do? What is a soft limit you might want to explore, and a hard boundary you shouldn’t cross? It is as essential for you as the pretend-perpetrator to know and respect your boundaries, as it is for the pretend-victim.

    3. Understand your character’s motivation and beliefs.

    Unless you play an evil cartoon villain, most villains don’t perceive themself as evil. They act according to their moral compass, however flawed that might be. Consider how your character justify their actions and explain away their behavior. What is at the center of their decisions, driving them forward, and what brought them to this point? It’s both easier being antagonistic if you feel excellent – or righteous – doing it, and potentially horrifying to everyone else observing it.

    Photo of person in black makeup and gold armor sitting at a stone table
    The author in the larp Høstspillet. Photo by Bjørn-Morten Vang Gundersen. Image has been cropped.

    4. Prepare your play and potential interactions.

    Playing a villain puts you in the role of the aggressor, often having to generate new ideas for transgressive actions towards multiple co-players. It can be tiring and draining, both regarding energy and capacity for new ideas. First step is to consider what your low effort villainy is like. What can you always do if low on energy? Some mean bullying, hateful glaring, or sabotaging someone else’s life and relations? Secondly, can you plan some (inter)actions ahead? Either pre-calibrated scenes with other players (especially good for the start of a larp, as it kicks everyone, including yourself, into action and sets the tone) or “a catalogue of evil ideas” you can draw inspiration from during the larp.

    5. Let your victims be creative.

    See if you can make your victims come up with the perfect transgressive actions towards them. After all, they know what would hurt them the most. It can both be done in-game, which might even add another layer to the scene, making them tell you how to hurt them, or as a part of an off-game calibration, with the player of the victim brainstorming or suggesting ideas to you. Do, however, make sure you don’t end up as a facilitator of their larp. Their ideas might not match your character’s motivation and beliefs (no.3) or even more importantly, it might be against your own boundaries (no.2).

    6. Steer for a conclusion to your character.

    Consider what kind of ending you want your character to have. Do you want your villain-self to suffer for their actions? To experience redemption and forgiveness? To ride off into the sunset, preparing their next villainy deed? You might not be able to decide yourself, and it might change throughout the course of the larp, but steering for catharsis of your antagonist story arc, can add value to your experience – or be a full stop separating you from your character. It is especially relevant, if you are suddenly facing an ending you are not comfortable with, e.g., revenge from your victims. Remember to consider your boundaries. You might be comfortable playing the perpetrator, but not comfortable ending as the victim. And that is okay.

    7. Check in with your victims – and yourself!

    Checking in with your victims is necessary to make sure they are okay, the larp is safe for them, and the interactions aren’t crossing their boundaries. But it is equally important to check in with yourself, especially after hard scenes! What do YOU need? A comforting hug? A cup of coffee? A nap or a positive interaction-break? Being behind the transgressive actions can be just as emotional and taxing an experience as being on the receiving end. Use your support-person (no. 1) if necessary; your victim might not be the one wanting to hug you right after the scene – and that’s okay too.

    8. Plan for larp aftercare.

    Consider what do you need after the larp has ended, after all, villains might need aftercare too. Your needs are valid, even if they might not be possible to fulfill. You might want to change out of your costume to distance yourself from the character – or stay in costume to reconnect it with yourself. Maybe a hot shower is at the top of your list, or a sit-down conversation with your victims? Maybe you want to sit by yourself and digest the experience in peace? Some of it you can plan for, like packing your favorite snack and a soft sweater, other things require specific facilities or interactions with co-players. Be mindful of how you can best take of yourself, while also being mindful of your co-players and their needs. Sometimes you might need a little more help, especially if you find yourself cast as a main antagonist at a larp. In that case:

    9. Collaborate with the organizers.

    Villains don’t exist in a vacuum, and what seemed like an excellent plan prior to the larp, might fall short as soon as confronted with the runtime reality of the game. On location organizers can often help improve, steer, or brainstorm solutions with you, if you find yourself and your character stuck in a bad situation and/or dynamic.


    Cover photo: The author in the larp Høstspillet. Photo by Bjørn-Morten Vang Gundersen. Image has been cropped.

  • Self Care Comes First: A Larp and Convention Policy

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    Self Care Comes First: A Larp and Convention Policy

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    Author Elin Dalstål during FjällCon 2016. Photo by Emmelie Nordström.
    Author Elin Dalstål during FjällCon 2016. Photo by Emmelie Nordström.

    In this post I will outline the effects of stressing the importance of self care at larps and gaming events. The post will discuss both the effects on the safety and comfort of the players, as well as how it affects the overall event in other aspects. The post is aimed at larp and convention organizers first and foremost, but also members of the community.

    Why Is Self Care Important?

    Great work is being done in both the larp and gaming convention scene to improve player safety and comfort, but many of the techniques and methods becomes less effective if organizers and the community don’t communicate the importance of self care.

    For example, why should a player use a safeword to break a scene they are uncomfortable with? Unless it is made clear that the player taking care of themselves is more important than not disturbing play, players will be reluctant to use it. They will suffer rather than disturb the scene. Communicating that self care comes first makes players more inclined to actually take care of themselves by using the safety resources the event has to offer.

    By stressing self care you give players a reason and responsibility to use those methods. It tells them why it should be used.

    Background

    Participant doing self care at FjällCon 2016. Photo by Johanna Nyberg Hamren.
    Participant doing self care at FjällCon 2016. Photo by Johanna Nyberg Hamren.

    I started to use the “self care comes first” policy whilst organising some physically demanding larps and gaming conventions that included hiking in the arctic wilderness. During these type of events, safety is important because at times participants may only be reachable by air ambulance if something were to happen. When you’re standing on an arctic mountain, you can’t simply opt out if you become exhausted or get a blister or what have you. You must make the hike back home, no matter what (short of calling an ambulance helicopter or spending the night under the stars). Safety mattered here, and I needed to encourage my players to make smart decisions in order that they could always make that hike back home. So I began to stress that self care comes first.

    It became my mantra and policy for the events. I repeated it over and over until the players started to repeat it among themselves. I stressed that while it is important that we support and help each other, you are the person best suited to take care of yourself. I can’t feel if someone else has a headache coming on. I can’t rest for anyone else. I can’t drink water for anyone else. I can’t feel what anyone else is comfortable with, or be aware when someone else’s existing injury or health condition starts acting up.

    You yourself are most often the person best suited to identify, take care of, and communicate your needs and boundaries. Therefore your first responsibility is self care. Short and simple.

    I also stressed that it is a boring and adult policy. Self care is often boring: skipping fun stuff to prioritize rest when you need it, getting a decent night’s sleep, eating a nourishing meal, putting on a band-aid in time, being mindful of your medical conditions, putting on an ugly sweater when you are cold, opting out of stuff, communicating your needs and boundaries even if the conversation is uncomfortable, asking others for help, and using the support and safety resources that are available. Do whatever is needed to take care of yourself, but if your actions are going to affect other players, talk to them so that you don’t impose on someone else’s well-being by accident.

    Self care is a responsibility and responsibilities aren’t always fun.

    Effects of the Policy

    This policy was intended to improve physical safety during those events, but it soon became apparent that it didn’t just improve physical safety, but it also strengthened my other efforts to make the events safe.

    So what were the effects of the policy? The first thing that really stood out is that people had more naps in the afternoon.

    Participant looking down on the landscape below FjällCon 2016. Photo by Emmelie Nordström.
    Participant looking down on the landscape below FjällCon 2016. Photo by Emmelie Nordström.

    What I saw was that the policy is effective, but the effects seen are typically anticlimactic. Players make smart little decisions in the background, taking more preventive actions – such as having a nap in the afternoon. In turn, this means that players are less likely to break down during the evening or the following day due to stress or exhaustion. Participants tend to think things through ahead of time, opting out of or steering things in other directions, to avoid getting into situations they do not want to end up in. They make an effort to communicate their needs and boundaries ahead of time rather than just in the heat of the moment. There is less crying, crises, and fewer close calls for both physical and emotional reasons.

    The side effects of this policy is that it affects the pacing of an event somewhat. Mainly, that players tend to take it easy or opt out of stuff earlier in the day rather than in the evening. I don’t see this as a bad thing, but at first I had not planned for the lull that came about when more players prioritized rest during the afternoon. Things slowed down at an unexpected time, but that rest period also meant that I had more players present and energetic in the evening instead, when you often plan the climactic scenes during a larp or the evening session at convention. Which I see as a win, but something to be aware of.

    While I noticed the policy affect all participants, I noticed that it had an especially positive effect on a special group of players.

    Altruistic Bastards

    Storyteller giving player shadow instuctions during Vandingen 2014. Photo by Emmelie Nordström.
    Storyteller giving player shadow instuctions during Vandingen 2014. Photo by Emmelie Nordström.

    When you stress that self care comes first, it has a strong effect on altruistic players – the kind and lovely players that routinely put others first even at the cost of their own well being. If you push the message that self care comes first hard enough – those altruistic bastards MIGHT JUST STOP AND THINK FOR A MOMENT before they push themselves too far to be nice to others.

    You know who I’m talking about. You might very well be one of the nice people I am talking about. Most larping and gaming communities have these altruistic bastards, who while they are super nice, can cause problems and set a bad example by pushing themselves too far. Even if they do it for the best of reasons. Because they create a culture where good players, nice players, the players you look up to, push themselves too far. To exhaustion or to where they will be hurt (physically or emotionally) at the event. Because they are good people others will follow their example.

    So, telling your players that self care comes first, while giving those altruistic bastards a good stare down, might just make them think before they do that. That they may care for others, but that it is actually bad for everyone’s safety and well being if they don’t take care of themselves as well. Self care comes first.

    Other Reasons Players Push Themselves Too Hard

    There are other reasons why players may push themselves too hard at events. At some larps and conventions, there is almost a competition about who has slept the least, taken as few breaks as possible, had the most intense play, done the craziest shit, and hurts the most after the game.

    This attitude is stupid. I think you should be allowed to do stupid shit, but when there is a social pressure to see who makes the worst decisions, that is just a race to the bottom.

    Argument between characters at Vandringen 2015. Photo by Emmelie Nordström.
    Argument between characters at Vandringen 2015. Photo by Emmelie Nordström.

    I do think larp and other gaming events can be places where you test your limits and push yourself out of your comfort zone, but I think that should only be by free choice, and that you should only do it after doing a sober risk assessment and taking the necessary self care precautions you need to do it in a sane, safe and responsible way.

    We should create a culture where it might be okay to test your limits in a responsible way at times, but you are expected to do so without neglecting your duty to practice self care. You just can’t leave self care out of the equation when you go outside your comfort zone.

    How to Implement It

    Let’s say you organize a larp or convention, or run a game at a someone else’s convention: how do you implement this policy?

    In general, you can just add the policy to whatever policy that already exists. Saying that self care comes first doesn’t change how you do things – it only tells players how they should prioritize during the event.

    Tell them that self care comes first and communicate, both in text and in person at least once, what you mean by it.

    You could use some variation of this text:

    Self care comes first policy:

    While it is important that we support and help each other, you are the person best suited to take care of yourself. I can’t feel if someone else has a headache coming on. I can’t rest for anyone else. I can’t drink water for anyone else. I can’t feel what anyone else is comfortable with, or be aware when someone’s existing injury or health condition starts acting up.

    You yourself are most often the person that is best suited to identify, take care of, and communicate your needs and boundaries. Therefore your first responsibility is self care. Short and simple. Therefore self care comes first at this event.

    This is a boring and adult policy. Self care can mean skipping fun stuff to prioritize rest when you need it, getting a decent night’s sleep, eating a nourishing meal, putting on a band-aid in time, being mindful of your medical conditions, putting on an ugly sweater when you are cold, opting out of stuff, communicating your needs and boundaries even if the conversation is uncomfortable, asking others for help, and using the support and safety resources that are available. Do whatever is needed to take care of yourself even if it is not exciting. If your actions are going to affect other players, talk to them so that you don’t impose on someone else’s wellbeing by accident.

    Self care is a responsibility and responsibilities aren’t always fun.

    When the policy has been explained once – use repetition to drive home the message. “Self care comes first” is a short four word sentence, so you can repeat it often without it taking up much of your organizers’ precious time. You can add it to the emails you send to the players, write it on the web page, and share it on social media. You can say it a lot during the event at different times and so on. Do it often enough and your players will start repeating it among themselves.

    (Bonus points if you kept count of how many times I repeated  “self care comes first” in this post so far. I really mean it when I say I believe in repetition).

    Conclusion

    While this policy came about for physically and emotionally demanding gaming events at remote locations, I use it for all sorts of events now. My view is that many larps’ and conventions’ safety and support policies could be improved by stressing that self care comes first.

    We can talk all we want about communicating boundaries and respecting each other, but unless people prioritize listening to their own signals and their own needs, there will be nothing to communicate. Everything starts with self care.

    When you stress that your players have a responsibility to see to self care first, you give them the alibi to do just that. It strengthens other safety and support procedures like safewords to calibrate play intensity, encourages players to communicate their needs and feelings, and normalizes opting out as a responsibility not just an option.

    We can have all the safety precautions in place, but we need players to prioritize self care if we want players to actually use them.


    Cover photo: Players hiking in character during Vandringen 2015. Photo by Emmelie Nordström.