It’s been said that art imitates life. The past few days, life has been imitating physics; specifically the three laws of thermodynamics. The three laws of thermodynamics state, basically:
1) You can’t win
2) You can’t break even
3) You can’t quit the game
‘Nuff said.
#57 (already!) asks
Do you find that you play differently when you play in different game systems? For instance, do you approach D&D or Champions the same way you approach Vampire or Werewolf the same way you approach Amber or Nobilis? Do you build the some kinds of characters? What are some examples of different characters in different systems, and why do you think they evolved that way?
I would have to say that my style of play is probably the fairly consistent across systems, in that I like a lot of drama, humor, plot, and backstory. I get more into some characters than others, but that tends to have more to do with who the character is than the system.
That said, the system is going to have a certain amount of influence on the character. Personally, I prefer systems that let you build the character you want, rather than shoehorning a concept into a template. If I’m playing D & D, I’ll usually choose the character class before I build a character. Conversely, if I am building a character in GURPS, I usually try to have someone in mind before I set pencil to paper. (Usually, but not always.) Still, it’s hard to avoid the basic fact that a system will dictate certain basic facts about a character, for reasons of genre if no other.
In the current modern d20 game I’m in, I had the character (Annika) in mind before we started the mechanical part of character creation. For some reason, I had it in my head that I wanted to play a small-town, Midwestern piano teacher–or more to the point, a small-town, Midwestern ex-piano teacher who was very unhappy with her recent former occupation. (No matter how bad a situation gets, up to and including having large alien nasties attempt to chew her head off, Annika will always say “Beats teaching piano in Nebraska.”) I had to come up with a wacky little backstory (with some help from my friends) to make Annika fit into both the plot and the system, but I am actually very happy with who she is. (This is a Good Thing, because Annika’s not very happy with who she is, but that’s another story and perhaps grounds for therapy.)
When I do feel the need to do something unusual (probably more often than Doug or Rob would like; I’m sure I’m an endless trial to the both of my long-time GMs) I try to stay within the rules, if just barely. In a very short-lived Vampire: The Dark Ages campaign, my character was from the far reaches of the territory covered by the source material; a member of one of the Central Asian nomad tribes. (She was also both completely delusional and a prophetess. Of course she didn’t know she was delusional, and thought all of her visions were “real.” But again, I digress. Extremely.)
I did not have the weekend that I planned. This is not to say it was a bad weekend, but it amazes me how chaning things around can cascade into the rest of my schedule for the next few weeks.
I thought that the day was going fairly well for a Monday until, after the usual 15-minute trek to the Contractor parking lot at Great Big Company, I couldn’t find my car. Granted, I am notorious for misplacing small items–eyeglasses, pens, keys, my other shoe–but there aren’t that many purple Saturns in the lot on any given day, and a car is a fairly large item.
Mind you, the lot is bigger than a football field–probably bigger than four football fields. On the other hand, it was well over half empty. I wandered around for another fifteen minutes, keys in hand, hoping desperately for either a glimpse of my car or manna to sustain me.
For a while there, the manna seemed far more likely. I was reduced to calling the car by name (Priscilla) and hoping it’d honk back at me.
As it turned out, I had forgotten that I’d gotten there early enough to get one of the really good spaces, and had gone so far past my car that I had no chance of seeing it until I started my trudge to the Security office, to make sure I hadn’t been towed. Nestled among two truly massive suburban assault vehicles and the largest pickup truck I’ve ever seen, was Priscilla.
I feel as though I have gone up a level in my Lose Things skill.
Every time one of the innmerable Kennedys dies in a tragic accident, we hear about the so-called Kennedy Curse. It’s hardly surprising, given how many Kennedys have died young. However, I think that the Kennedy Curse is actually far more insidious than, say, the straightforward fact that God just doesn’t like Democrats from Massachusetts. I have a theory. What if other Kennedys must die so that Ted Kennedy can stay alive? For those of you who may have been under a rock lately, let’s review some untimely Kennedy deaths:
1944: Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr., Ted’s oldest brother, was killed in a plane crash during a bombing mission in Europe during World War II.
1948: Kathleen Kennedy, Ted’s older sister, was killed in a plane crash in Europe.
1963: We all know that this was the year that President John F. Kennedy, Ted’s older brother, was assassinated in Dallas.
1968: Robert F. Kennedy, Ted’s last surviving brother, is assassinated in California.
1984: David Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy’s son and Ted’s nephew, dies in Florida after OD’ing on prescription drugs and cocaine.
1997: Michael Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy’s son and Ted’s nephew, dies because he can’t ski and play football at the same time.
1999: John F. Kennedy, Jr., President Kennedy’s son and Ted’s nephew, dies in a plane crash of the coast of Martha’s Vineyard.
That’s seven dead Kennedys, four siblings (all of them older, too–maybe a little sibling-rivalry thing is going on there?) and three nephews since Ted’s birth in 1932. The first death occurred when Ted was 12, which as we know is right around the onset of puberty. Remember how you felt about your family when you were 12? Need I say more? The second death occurred when Ted was 16, an age when growing teenagers eat like horses because they need the energy. Maybe young Ted needed a little something extra. In 1962, Ted was first elected to the Senate. It’s no secret that the campaign trail can be pretty rough on you; maybe Ted was feeling a little drained in ‘63. Ted was on the campaign trail again in ’68, helping big brother Bobby in his bid for the Democratic Presidential nomination. 1984 was another election year, and as some of us may remember, it was a pretty rough year for Democrats. Hell, that election wore me out and I was only 10. In 1997, Ted turned 65, an age at which many people retire. Ted, however, carried on like a trooper. And in 1999, Ted’s long, hard fight in the Senate for the Patient’s Bill of Rights went down in defeat only hours before John Jr.’s plane went down in Massachusetts. That’s an awful lot of coincidences, don’t you think? And as if that weren’t enough, when you think about it, Ted ought to have shuffled off this mortal coil a while ago. Let’s not forget the infamous Chappaquiddick Island car crash in 1969. (Ted somehow managed to survive, even though his passenger, Mary Jo Kopechne, drowned in the accident.)
So, what does it all mean? The best advice I can offer is this– if you’re a Kennedy, avoid planes and politics, and suck up to Uncle Ted.
Role Call #25 asks
What qualities would your ideal game group possess?
In no particular order…
1) Maturity - Nothing sucks more than dungeon-crawling with emotional ten-year-olds.
2) Sense of humor - Anything can be funny under the right circumstances; I like to game with (and hang out with) people who can appreciate that.
3) Flexibility - I love to try new things with a game; if the other people in a group do too, it keeps things fresh and interesting.
4) Ability to think on their feet - A survival skill in any good game, although lack of it can bring about some really interesting plot twists.
5) Well-read - I don’t care about which subject area(s) people read in–I think that people who read a lot tend to bring more to the table when it comes to characterization and plot.
6) Intelligent - Smart people rock.
7) A reasonable degree of social eptness (if that’s a word) - If you’re going to spend a lot of time with people, it’s more pleasant if they are familiar with basic courtesy. I don’t mean that everyone needs to know which fork to use on oysters, or which kind of wine goes with succotash; I mean not blowing cigarette smoke in someone’s face, showing up as close to on time as humanly possible, and assuming that you’ll pay for your share of the pizza unless explicitly informed otherwise. IMNSHO, this one ties with maturity as a must-have.
Ability to handle constuctive criticism - Nobody is right all the time. Acknowldge it gracefully when it’s not your time, and you score major points with the rest of the group.
9) I shouldn’t even have to mention this one, but it’s a cliche for a reason–good personal hygeine. If I smell you before I see you, I don’t care what other redeeming qualities you may have.
Actually, looking back over the list, I think it nicely sums up the sort of people I prefer to spend my time with under any circumstances. I don’t see any reason to put up with someone’s odious behavior just because we have common interests.
Ginger asks
Do your characters have friends and associates who play a regular role in the game? What about henchmen and hirelings in the old D&D sense or Champions-style DNPCs? How does your group handle playing them? What sorts of things are they used for in the game? Is their influence good, bad, or indifferent?
I would say that it depends on the character. Tatiana is the daughter of a reigning duke, and there are always some royal guardsmen around when she needs them–and more often, when she doesn’t. (All of the PCs in that campaign were siblings, which made for an interesting group dynamic, but that’s off-topic.) There are also family-member NPCs in the game; it’s very political, and the interaction between the family members drives the plot. On the other hand, Annika is an ex-figure skater who stopped training for the Olympics after an accident. I imagined her as very driven, and not terribly socially involved, so she probably wouldn’t have a lot of friends. However, her coach played a huge role in her pre-campaign life, and I tend to write him into her internal monologue a lot, especially because she doesn’t get along with her parents. In this case, “her” NPCs help me define her character, even though she hasn’t interacted with them in-game at all.
When I run a game, I like to have a companion NPC thrown into the mix; basically, an NPC member of the party who can round out a group. In the Teenagers from Outer Space campaign, it was Anoushka, who is the best friend of one PC and the girlfriend of another. In the Grand Ellipse, I threw Esperanza at Margaret just to see what would happen. (I’ll leave comments on the other Grand Ellipse NPCs to people like Dorothea, Alisa, and Cathy.)
Overall, I would say that I tend to populate a game fairly thickly. Different NPCs can serve different purposes–having a “companion NPC” lets me pass information to the group through the NPC’s set of personal filters; for example, Anoushka may not recognize her state’s Senators, but she can tell you who designed the clothes they’re wearing, and why they look good. (Or not, as the case may be.) Therefore, if she says she saw some important looking old guy in, like, major Armani get into a flying saucer with some three-eyed bad haircuts, the players have to work a little to figure out what’s going on. I can avoid a lot of contrived situations, which is a picky detail, but one that’s important to me. Other NPCs may drive the plot, provide a foil for the other characters, or simply act as “supporting cast”. Whether the NPC is good, bad, or indifferent depends on who s/he is and why s/he’s in the game.
It’s week two of my new workout program. I’m happy to report that I am no longer hoping that someone nearby knows how to use a defibrilator by the time I reach the end of the workout. It’s progress. No visible results yet.
OK, race fans, this is it. If you have a burning need to know all about the Grand Ellipse, post ‘em to the comments or email me. I’ll take questions for a week, and post the answers ASAP. If you’re emailing me, please put “Grand Ellipse Questions” in the subject line.
Ladies and gentlemen, start your questions.
Although English has a huge vocabulary pool, the past 24 hours have revealed to me a few definitions for which words are missing.
1. The combination of elation, smug satisfaction, and relief that you feel when one of your friends breaks up with someone you don’t like.
2. The way you feel when, after having run through heavy rain and gotten soaked to the knees trying catch a bus, you realize that you have forgotten your bus pass, gone back for it, and heard the bus pull away behind you, when the whole point of taking the bus was not to have to run/walk on a sore ankle.
3. The feeling between your toes at 2:30 PM when your feet, socks, and shoes have been wet since 8:00 AM.
Suggestions, anyone?
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