RPG Talk: It's Got a Backbeat, You Can't Lose It....

As part of my RPG structure, I tend to break down individual games into 4 distinct beats, with an expectation of the players achieve three major goals per game session. With "The Lonely People", I have named them after Beatles lyrics (even post-breakup.) Sometimes they know in advance why (or can guess), other times it becomes apparent afterward.





Game 1's beats:
Come Together - players introductions to one another
Everyone's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey - Introduction to the prince and the primogen of the city.
We Hope You Will Enjoy The Show (Sgt. Pepper) - The players attended a rock concert that ended with a gunshot to the lead singer's head.
She Came In Through The Bathroom Window - The players went to a night club where the NPC they were supposed to be babysitting accidentally Embraced the favored ghoul of the prince's childe in the men's room.

Game 2's beats:
Band on the Run - Now they're on the lam, trying to re-group in private.
Deep in the Jungle Where the Mighty Tiger Lies (Bungalow Bill) -  They got attacked by a crazed werewolf and met the local "werewolf hunters".
Instant Karma's Gonna Get You -  The players had to attend the Toreador primogen's art showing, where the prince's childe showed up pissed and looking for his ghoul.
Tell Me Why - Confrontation with the Prince of the city, explaining what happened to her childe's ghoul.

It's a little bit of fun and also emphasizes the pacing of the game. When something significant has happened, they can tend to guess because the beat of the game has now changed in the evening. I don't name the game session themselves in the same convention, that would be a little much.

I did mention the Prince's name was "Eleanor Rigby", right? Nyuk nyuk nyuk. Luckily, I have a good reason for this in-game (as good as any, I suppose. One of my major plotlines is also named after a Beatles song, but this has yet to be discovered.)

RPG Talk: Story Arcs Explained by Michael Caine

Getting back to talking about structure for a moment, because ultimately I find that to be the most interesting point of RPG discussion that transcends game systems. One of my normal blogs of reading asked how other storytellers structure their games. Again, I'm strictly talking about my own corner of experience that is usually flavored by a story-driven, role-playing driven type of experience. These days I try to structure my story arcs in three-chapter increments, using the terminology from the book/film about rival magicians at the turn of the century, The Prestige. I'm not sure if the terms are actual stage magician lingo, but it works (and if you imagine it being spoken by a grizzled Michael Caine, it's even better.) Take it away, Michael -

"Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call "The Prestige"."

And that's it in a nutshell for me. The first act of my games are The Pledge - This is where I'm telling the audience the basic outline of what will be occurring for the story arc. That doesn't mean the Pledge is strictly exposition, far from it. But I as a storyteller can't cheat the audience at this point because I'm building your trust in terms of what you should expect. Star Wars is a great Pledge, for example - it sets up who the important characters are, it explains the simple terms of what's going on in the universe. There's a lot of action in Star Wars however, it's not just exposition. Same thing with Fellowship of the Ring, you understand the action, and the characters understand the risks (or at least think they do.) One of the reasons I like Peter Jackson's trilogy on the subject is that he wisely brought Gollum to the front of the story (if only as a lurking shadow in the background.) Don't misunderstand however. Just because it's an introduction, doesn't mean it's required to end on an upnote. Fellowship ends with a lot of problems and complications: The party is split, Gandalf is dead and two of the party are captured by the bad guys. Good solid start, however, for a longer chronicle.

The second act is The Turn, where things literally turn for the worst. This is where things need to take a decided dip in the character's fortunes. In Empire Strikes Back, it's obvious with the discovery of Darth being Luke's father. In The Two Towers, it's the important discovery that Gollum is going to betray Frodo and Sam at some point, but neither of them are aware. I know I speak against the grain when I say I like Matrix: Reloaded because of the two significant turns that take place in the story - Neo discovers the truth about Zion and being the One, as the audience, we learn at the close of the story that Agent Smith is a lurking serpent in the real world. Here's another little thought to throw into that mix - Godfather II is also an interesting Turn because Michael has truly damned himself by ordering the murder of his brother, Fredo. But that's for another discussion. For me, The Turn episode is also where I think I understand where the players want to go the most. That's for another discussion as well, but the main gyst is that by the end of Game 2, I can usually tell what plotline the players want to follow and resolve the most by their actions in Game 1 and 2, and what they will find most satisfying to resolve in Game 3.

Game 3 is the Prestige - the game where the plotline with the most importance to the players has to have the beginnings of development toward resolution. This doesn't mean it's 100% tied up, however. But players I think need to have a straightforward "We accomplished this' sort of resolution, whether it be for good or bad. Return of the Jedi resolved with Darth standing up for his son, even at the expense of his own life. Return of the King was both the destruction of Sauron, but more importantly the destruction of the Ring at the terrible cost the other characters experienced. Godfather III, for all its faults and believe me there were many, resolved that no matter what Michael did to seek absolution, he couldn't. He owed a sacrifice to karmic justice, and it was resolved with the death of his daughter. Personally, I think it would've been a satisfactory closure if the person who killed his daughter was then in turn killed by Michael's son, Anthony. A tidy little arc that would mimic Michael's introduction into his own downfall. But that's me. I'm a poet at heart. Won't tell you what happens in the next LP game, but it resolves a few things and makes a few things clearer.

Not all games need to follow this, of course. But I find it makes it easier for the players to see development of the short term plot and the long term plot when it's designated as such. When running Context 9, it was easier to run the "Call of Cthulhu game" like this because the immediate "Big Bad" in terms of story arc was dealt with, but the meta-arc continued on its merry way, building with each three-chapter story to a final resolution (that didn't end the way I expected.) What's the old joke? Trouble comes in threes, and when #4 comes... it's really the start of a new batch of three.

RPG Talk: A Game of Broken Players

Thanks to the Internet and social media, I've been discovering a larger community of role-playing enthusiasts that go beyond the normal crowd I know personally (or would be found at the local game store.) Several of these sites, (www.ryanmacklin.com and www.roleplayingtips.com) are excellent sources, as well as one of personal favorites  - www.jesshartley.com. Maybe cuz I'm sweet on Jess. Go figure. Who isn't.

But it's cool - I think that it's important for us to become better at our craft. The better we become at storytellers, the more influence our players to be better (who in turn, influence us to improve as well.) Beyond the basic commiseration of problem player scenarios or whatever, it really helps to connect with this resource network in order to share ideas and discuss shared value points that give us all something to work on.

However, one of the things that is slightly disappointing is that most of the storyteller community share tips primarily for D&D campaigns,  and that's understandable. It is pretty much the canon for rpg's, and you really, really have to try NOT to have played D&D at least once if you're a tabletop enthusiast. I however, don't play D&D regularly. It's really not my cup of schnapps. Don't get me wrong, great game but I don't really find the genre what excites me as a player or as a storyteller. There are some great DM's out there, I know. But it's like the old saw that a good artist can make anything extraordinary, but it doesn't mean the subject itself is interesting. I often joke Peter Murphy could sing his grocery list and it would be an amazing experience. ("Two quarts of miiiiilk....and some egggggs...")

So as a bit of an odd duck, I'm going to try and discuss the craft a little bit of non-D&D storytelling from time to time. Not as a statement against D&D, mind you. Just because it's what I know, and I feel the desire to share to give a little back.

We're currently running through a Vampire chronicle, just completed game 2. One of my players, who is new to my immediate group, is also a storyteller but this is his first successful experience in a V:TM setting. Oh, he's tried it - but he told me last game they usually don't get past game 1 with his normal gaming group, because the clans usually end up in-fighting and barely last through game 1.

I get that. V:TM is actually a tough RPG to do correctly, especially in the first series of games. Sometimes I truly wonder if V:TM is meant to be played as-is. Because the game universe is structured to encourage backstabbing (not unlike a Paranoia game, but without the yuks), players already start with a strike against them in certain scenarios. That doesn't REALLY happen in D&D much - clerics and magic users, for instance, rarely have a true problem with one another unless the DM opts to make that part of the background. There's usually an inherent camaraderie in D&D parties that only really have problems unless there's a broken player in the mix.

Further, the game itself structures itself to have what is called the "jihad" - basically the older characters who are trying to manipulate the younger characters, each other, and of course mortal society. Often that's not a problem because players start at a roughly equal power level, but it can happen.

Finally you have the inherent issue that vampires don't LEAVE home very often. They pick a city, they set up their shingle, and they stay put. For centuries. They're not really adventuring types inherently, unless there's a really good reason. That puts a lot of pressure on a good reason to be created by the Storyteller.

Let's recap that - characters that are written to conflict with one another, encouraged backstabbing and inherent reticence to engage with other players and or NPC's. Usually we call those broken players. Here we call it, Game 1. Enjoy your Vampire game.

So that leaves the hook - what brings the player characters together and (initially) keeps them working together for relatively similar purposes. One method is of course the mutual background creation that makes it easy to point to something that at least brought them together as a unit. I actually try to shy away from that overtly, because I prefer to let the players form their own bonds organically. Usually, I prefer the method of having them brought them together by a third party in one fashion or another and then sets them on their path.

In comparison, my quasi-Call of Cthulhu game Context 9 did it pretty easily - the pc's were hired by a corporation to be their personal investigators into the unknown. I likened it to the Charlie Angels trope, different people brought together by third-party powerful benefactor. It left things open-ended while allowing the players to still keep secrets from one another if they so chose. I'm not a fan of doing that so heavy handed however for Vampire, and ultimately it doesn't make sense. I prefer to have the group brought together by a mutual problem that they need to solve en masse, whether or not they are aware. However in my current game, The Lonely People, I tried to turn the Charlie's Angels troupe on its ear. They were gathered by a debt to a powerful elder, but all of them were accrued separately. So immediately there's conflict in that they don't inherently know one another. Conflict + Mutual Background divided by Individual Experience. So far, they haven't even MET the original elder in question, leaving doubt to whether he really called them together to repay the debt. The debt itself doesn't seem to make sense to the casual observer - Distrust + Shared Mystery. And finally, the debt itself becomes more complicated in the face of outside events and withheld information -  Problem Solving despite Changing Environment and Incomplete Information.

So far, it's worked pretty well in keeping the group together, although they certainly don't trust one another (and shouldn't), and they all have different agendas. I doubt this game will go beyond Game 6, but that's not a bad thing. I like to keep my chronicles relatively concise. Why I know Game 6 as opposed to Game 4 is something else...

Context 9: In Praise of Mr. Peepers

People who play in my RPG's tend to play for a number of reasons, but the most recurring one I hear is, "Because you're not right in the head." Strange compliment, that. But true - I tend to make characters, scenarios, plots... that are usually a little off-center. There's a whole group of people in the Northwest who probably shudder when they see mimes, thanks to me. I have no regrets for this, it keeps it interesting and if I can get either a belly laugh or a "Ooooh, that's fucked up." during normal game play, I consider the game a success. If it happens over the same thing, that makes my week. Case in point, Mr. Peepers.

Mr. Peepers was a character in Context 9, my modern corporate-conspiracy rpg that ran for nine months. The players worked for a large media corporation that investigated strange things, with a bigger agenda regarding the way corporations and men in power truly make the world go round. Ya know for a Democrat, I'm pretty pro-big business that way. Anyway, at one point the players were to meet up with their contact from the Background division who was going to brief them on an ancient tome. They traveled up to a hotel room, and Willy Primatero opened the door, a pleasant looking man in a pullover sweater.
"Hi. Actually, I'm just the assistant. Your contact is in the bedroom, sleeping. You want to wake him up?" Of course they say yes. He calls into the bedroom, and a high-pitched New Yawkeeze voice answers. Already the players grow concerned.
Willy goes into the bedroom and brings out... Mr. Peepers. Yep. A ventriloquist dummy. Of course the players assume Willy is fucking with them, but they soon realize that Mr. Peepers is the smarter of the two of them, knowing things that Willy just doesn't know (or at least claims to know.)
Later they learned the back-story - Willy was a field agent that had seen something so frightful, he had a nervous breakdown. As part of his therapy, Willy created the persona as Mr. Peepers so he himself could feel comfortable that he didn't have this forbidden knowledge in his head, it was all Mr. Peepers. So the company transferred him to the Background department, but kept him on. In many ways a sad little tale.
My players were also pretty funny - at first, they scoffed at Mr. Peepers. Then they started playing along. And then, something weird happened. They themselves bought in as characters that the two personas were completely different people - they spoke differently to each characters. Even maintained eye contact with Mr. Peepers while speaking with him, ignoring me. I really wish other people had seen that, that would've made them go a little weird.

I never got to finish my intended story arc for Willy and Mr. Peepers, because Willy ended up injured in-game, and while Mr. Peepers was still speaking with the players normally, Willy was in a brief coma. Yeah, that ain't weird. If he had been injured, I think Mr. Peepers was going to slowly go insane with his knowledge, scaring Willy that Mr. Peepers was going to kill him at some point... and then Willy was going to kill himself and eventually... Mr. Peepers was going to start speaking through one of the players.

I have no idea why people let me out of the house without restraints.

So I guess one of the questions by that really got posed to my players via Mr Peepers was whether a crazy person could still be intelligent and/or functional in the real world. We tend to fall into the "Crazy Person in the Asylum With Arcane Knowledge" trope, because it's easy. The Crazy Person with Forbidden Knowledge becomes a safe destination, like visiting the Beach or your mom. (Heh. Your mom.) But most crazy people aren't in asylums...unless you call the House of Representatives an asylum. Some do. Actually the crazy people are out functioning with the rest of us the best they can, and Willy was definitely a useful tool both for the players and for myself with the added complication that he *required* the mannequin dummy to communicate in public places and obviously there were plenty of environment reactions. I mean, wasn't that kind of WEIRD in the 70's when TV characters were just walking around with ventriloquist dummies? Didn't people find that... well, odd? People didn't really do that back then, did they? Did THEY? Okay, I scared myself.

The Lyrics Game: "Truck Stop Love Machine"

Every Monday on my Twitterfeed, I play what I call the "Lyrics Game." My followers can suggest a song title, and by the end of the week, I write lyrics for the title. I can't guarantee there will ever be a song attached to them, but you never know. At the very least, you know the lyrics are there.

This Week: "Truck Stop Love Machine!" (suggested by Babagahnoosh)

Everybody’s beautiful before the hit the lights
Two minutes after closing time
Just before you stagger home, calling it a night
I’ll drop a fiver to make you mine
I’m parked out back, let’s go
I’m parked out back, let’s go
I’m parked out back, let’s go


Chorus
She’s a truck stop queen
She’s a loving machine
And everybody’s going to take turn to see what I mean
You know she looks so sweet,
I hope she’s got her teeth
She’s goes on and on and on, a truck stop love machine


She’s got a few teardrop tattoos
With little inhibition anymore
I don’t mind if I’m only next in line tonight
But I won’t ask if she’s done this before

So get on your back, let’s go
So get on your back, let’s go
So get on your back, let’s go


Chorus
She’s a truck stop queen
She’s a loving machine
And everybody’s going to take turn to see what I mean
You know she looks so sweet,
I hope she’s got her teeth
She’s goes on and on and on, a truck stop love machine

The Lyrics Game: "Wang Bone Surprise!"

Every Monday on my Twitterfeed, I play what I call the "Lyrics Game." My followers can suggest a song title, and by the end of the week, I write lyrics for the title. I can't guarantee there will ever be a song attached to them, but you never know. At the very least, you know the lyrics are there.

This Week: "Wang Bone Surprise!" (suggested by Christopher Plank)

I scored some brews with all my friends
Down at the bar while the Raiders lose again
At closing time, I saw her there
Tight miniskirt white heels and long blonde hair

Thinking I would score that night,
Took her home but what a sight!
Reached down between her thighs,
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!

It all came out, but not at first,
Should've known by the Old Spice in her purse
Strangest night I ever had,
Have to admit it wasn't half bad

Verify with all the girls you meet
If they lift the toilet seat,
Reached down between her thighs,
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!

That old refrain, you know they're right
It's all the same when turning out the lights
Now all my friends, they won't relent
They're hounding me to tell them how it went

I don't know what I should say
Does this mean I'm really gay?
Reached down between her thighs,
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!

From the Misty Corners of Childhood... come the Spinners.

For years, I've known this song. I mean YEARS. Easily since I first heard it on the AM radio when I was five. Had no idea who it was, but I grew up with the tune. And now, on a whim I looked up the lyrics using Google. And sure enough, it came up - It was the Spinners.




"Games People Play" by the Spinners

I particularly like how the video comes from Soul Train, one of my guiltiest pleasures. The purple velvet jackets and choreography make it even better. God bless you, Internet. Of course this was also the heady days when NO ONE played live on television, particularly singing groups. So not all the vocals were lip-sync'ed, but the women's vocals were lip-sync'ed by a male member of the group. Eh, it's time on TV. What can you do.