[Misery Bubblegum] Character before conflict

[TonyLB]

So over on Story Games I had a discussion about the way that conflict structures a character ... more specifically, the pieces of a character which are not dependent upon conflict to be interesting.  It's a topic I'm newly fascinated by:  What is it about beloved characters like (say) Firefly's Malcolm Reynolds that make us immediately happy to see them on the screen or stage or page, even before they've been involved in the events and conflicts of the story?

I think we're all probably down with the idea that a story that didn't mix that character in to some big conflict would be boring.  My more controversial thought is that a character who cannot, in some real way, stand on his own outside of a conflicted story is also boring.

In the interest of making a practical foray into the subject, I made a game world (government agency binds kids as the keepers of unholy spirit-things in order to combat Gods bent on the destruction of humanity ... sort of Pokémon meets Neon Genesis Evangelion) and set about trying to make the non-conflict description of a character.  The basic question I used to try to focus my mind is "On his best day, when everything goes right for this character, what is he like?"  But man, I started immediately tripping over my own feet in terms of conflict-oriented habits.

Draft #1:  Kyle is not a smart young man.  He doesn't let that get in his way.  Indeed, he jumps into situations where being smart is, pretty much, a pre-requisite and does his lovable best to bull through on sheer vigor and perseverance.

Man ... there's a character ready made for conflict with the world and with every other protagonist.  But other than that?  There's nothing there.  I wouldn't want to see him (for instance) doing housework.  It would just be a comedy of errors ... the only way for it to be distinctly him is if I say "Yes!  He does housework ... STUPID housework!  But he doesn't let that stop him!"

Is that really all that different from saying "My guy is a ninja, and he carries two katanas!"?  Yes, he does housework ... NINJA housework!

Draft #2:  On his best day, Kyle saves the day by helping somebody else find their strength, and face their own fears.  He has powers over dead and restless spirits ... mostly

en masse, with stuff like chains and whirlwinds of tortured souls.  On his best day, Kyle is pretty damn scary, but never to his friends.[/list]

And ... there's a character ready made to support others in their conflicts.  Is this an "ontology recapitulates philogeny" thing here, with me reiterating the history of my gaming development, draft after draft?  That'd be funny.  But other than providing support?  Still looking pretty sketchy.  But there are glimmerings.  You got this wierd, scary kid ... yeah, I'd be a little interested in watching him do housework.  I'd be more interested in watching other people being all nervous and terrified of him, while he's just sitting there dusting the mantlepiece.

Draft #3:  On his best day, Kyle is insightful.  He knows people better than they know themselves, because he has confidence that there is more in them than what they, blinded by their own doubts, can see.  He stands up for them when they need a little strength and protection (and maybe a swift kick in the pants) before they can stand on their own.  On his best day, Kyle reminds us that, as scary as the damned and howling spirits are, human beings can be scarier, and that makes us proud.  On his best day, Kyle is so terrifying that his enemies couldn't imagine him being kind, and so kind that his friends couldn't imagine him being scary.  You're glad he's a little bit of a monster, because he's on your side.  And you know how important your friendship is to him, because he's a little bit of a monster, and he needs you to keep him grounded.  On his best day, Kyle knows that he's not really very smart, and makes that a strength rather than a weakness: he knows he can get things wrong, and so he puts his full focus and concentration into even little things.  He will willingly take on a secret burden of pain in order to help another.  Kyle doesn't smile much, but when he does he gives it his full attention.

Now, see, this is what I get when I clear out some of the dross and really consciously think only of the things that make me like the character as a character.  I like this guy.  I imagine him neatly, almost primly dressed.  A shock of black hair that he tries to comb into place, but that goes all unruly whenever his powers manifest.  Yeah ... I imagine that he carries a comb, and that trying to put himself back in order after a supernatural incident is one of his little habits ... a ritual of the self.

I would totally watch this kid trying to clean up a house.  He'd be so self-conscious about it ... wanting to get everything just so.  And there would have to be someone there saying "Please, please don't bother.  I can get it later," who he'd just ignore, and ....

Okay, rambling now.

The point is, I'm ready to see this kid in any type of conflict.  The character stands (at least for me) on its own.  To make a good story I only need to add conflict.  Interstellar God-Angels turn everyone in Tokyo into stigmata-bearing lizard zombies and the forces of G.A.I.A. need to get to the central nest-shrine without hurting the ensorcelled citizens?  I'm up for watching Kyle deal with that.  Young man spies a girl across a crowded room, falls in love, and tries to find out more about her?  I'm up for watching Kyle deal with that.  Both at the same time?  Oh yeah!

I would not say the same of either draft #1 or draft #2.  They're not merely lacking in details ... the details that they do have are the wrong details.  The difference between getting the wrong details (even page after page of the wrong details!) and getting the right details (even if it's only a single sentence) is the difference between a character who enchants from the first moment you see them and a character who can only become interesting after you've played them long enough to grope out the details you need.

So how do I encourage people to create those right details?  My current question doesn't do enough to prompt people into the right mindset.  Even for myself, knowing what I'm aiming for, it takes too long with too many false starts, before I start getting the good stuff.  I want to get the good stuff like turning on a faucet.  Hot and cold running awesome.  How do I do that?

[Bill_White]

Tony -- Here's a suggestion for a technique that tries to systematize the process you went through in creating Kyle. 

1.  Describe the character in one word.  What's he or she like?

2.  Now, what about the character [gets in the way of | allows him or her to overcome] that?  One word.

So you've just set up a central contradiction in the character.  It's not a conflict!  It's just something that adds depth to the one-dimensional description.  Some examples:

Spider-Man:  (a) Wisecracking but (b) guilt-ridden.
Kyle:  (a) Stupid but (b) insightful.
Mal Reynolds:  (a) Cynical but (b) good-hearted.

Notice how (b) is semantically opposed to (a).  I think that's the heart of the technique.

3.  Okay, now look at the description you've created.  Explain the contradiction that the character embodies, in a sentence or two.  How did he or she get that way?  What sustains this tension in the character?

Spider-Man:  He's trying to escape the responsibilities he feels, but they keep pulling him back.  At heart, he's a good boy.
Kyle:  He's a monster, but he's our monster, and he believes in us.
Mal Reynolds:  Even after having his youthful idealism burned out of him by being on the losing side of a war, he still tries to do what's right--when push comes to shove.

4.  Is this guy awesome now?  No?  Okay, let's add more.  What other word would you use...

Maybe this doesn't exactly mirror the process you went through with Kyle, but maybe it's simple enough to reliably reproduce.

Whaddya think?

[TonyLB]

So you've just set up a central contradiction in the character.  It's not a conflict!

So, like, contrast but not conflict.  I'm down with that.  I like contrast as a tool.

Where does that leave things that aren't contrasted against anything else in the character?  Like, Mal is funny.  And that's ... y'know ... part of why we like him.  Jayne is stupid, and there's really no contrast there.  He's stupid.  We like that he's stupid.

Does everything need to be in tension against something else?

[Bill_White]

Where does that leave things that aren't contrasted against anything else in the character?  Like, Mal is funny.  And that's ... y'know ... part of why we like him.  Jayne is stupid, and there's really no contrast there.  He's stupid.  We like that he's stupid.

Does everything need to be in tension against something else?

I don't know that everything needs to be in tension against something else.  I do think that in the most interesting and engaging characters, the thing that makes them engaging as characters (rather than as pretty faces or cool poses) is the tension or contrast built into them.

And I'm not sure that your counter-examples carry the weight that you want them to.  Okay, grant that Mal is funny.  That funniness (his good humor, his wittiness, whatever you want to call it) exists at the same time as his cynicism and his do-the-right-thinginess.  Like you say:  "it's part of what we like about him."  So an alternate character conception of Mal is that it's his general good humor that stands in contract to his overall cynicism.  Maybe his basic gallantry isn't part of what you think is awesome about the character; in that case, you would have highlighted different features about the character.  In either case, it's the juxtaposition of these contrasting features that makes the character interesting.  Similarly, Jayne's stupidity doesn't exist in a vacuum; it's in tension with his "smart-enough-to-stick-with-Mal" characteristic -- call it loyalty, maybe.  Like:  Jayne is more interesting when he's not just dumb, but when his being dumb is shown as in tension with something else about him:  his bad-assitude, his ambition, and so forth.

None of this is intended to establish general laws, however.  I think rather they work as rules of thumb for creating characters who are in and of themselves interesting and engaging, likeable in some fashion.  "My guy is funny."  Not good enough.  "My guy is funny, but he carries a secret pain."  Oh yeah?  Tell me more. "Yeah, things always happen to him and people laugh because he looks ridiculous, but at heart he's sad because he thinks nobody loves him."  Hmm, I think I'm starting to see this guy now.  Let's keep going.  What else about him?  "Well, he's quiet."  How does he manage to deal with that?  "Well, his sister will stick up for him when he needs to say something."  Yeah?  But you just said he's afraid nobody loves him.  "He is!  Because sometimes she's mean to him, too."

So:  the character's attributes don't exist in isolation (notice how what "funny" meant shifted once the "player" in this example started to try to figure out the essence of the tension in the character).  They exist in tension with other features of the character, and with other characters!  That's what I see you trying to build into your character generation process.

[Narf the Mouse]

Instead of a conflict list, why not a web of some kind?

[TonyLB]

Okay, grant that Mal is funny.  That funniness (his good humor, his wittiness, whatever you want to call it) exists at the same time as his cynicism and his do-the-right-thinginess.  Like you say:  "it's part of what we like about him."  So an alternate character conception of Mal is that it's his general good humor that stands in contract to his overall cynicism.

Granted.  You can combine ingredients in any way you choose.  You could, for instance, say that his good humor stands in stark contrast to his competence.

But at that point you're looking at the end product of that combination.  Like a plate of freshly baked cookies, the combination includes aspects of all the ingredients.

I think my point is that I already know a lot about creating conflicts.  I know how to create conflict potential in most anything.  But I don't have the same depth of theory when talking about how to make a character appealing and sympathetic.  Conflict alone doesn't do that.

When I check my inventory of mental tools, I feel like I've got a recipe for cookies that describes the exact process of creating butter (including what cows the milk should come from) and then, having covered the butter, says "Oh, and you need some white powdery stuff too.  Sugar?  Flour?  Talcum powder?  Whatever.  Anyway, back to discussing butter!"

[Adam Cerling]

How about this for a key to making a sympathetic character: we have to understand why they are the way they are. We need to understand their thinking and motivations enough to "get it" when they make different decisions than we would.

You start to approach this in the third iteration of Kyle -- you talk about how he's a little bit of a monster, so he looks to his friends for support, and how he knows he's not real bright, so he's very careful in everything he does. There are cause-and-effect relationships amongst the character's qualities.

[Danny_K]

I really like the "X, but Y" formulation of character traits.  But I wonder: do you really need to encode the character's sympathic qualities into character creation?  It seems to me in your example with Kyle that you're engaging in a little imaginative playing-before-playing to flesh him out, with good results; but could you have gotten the same good results by actually playing out a scene or two?  Here I'm thinking of the pilot episodes of PTA games, where I often see characters "come to life" and do things I wouldn't have expected. On the other hand, I've imagineered lots of characters that sounded really cool in my own head, but really didn't work out in the SIS. 

If I'm missing some specific Misery-Bubblegum issues here, forgive me, I haven't read or played the game.

Also, mind if I sig the phrase "Yes, he does housework ... NINJA housework!"  I think it's a meme that could thrive in the humid jungles of RPG.Net.

Danny

[Bill_White]

Tony --

I think my point is that I already know a lot about creating conflicts.  I know how to create conflict potential in most anything.  But I don't have the same depth of theory when talking about how to make a character appealing and sympathetic.  Conflict alone doesn't do that.

When I check my inventory of mental tools, I feel like I've got a recipe for cookies that describes the exact process of creating butter (including what cows the milk should come from) and then, having covered the butter, says "Oh, and you need some white powdery stuff too.  Sugar?  Flour?  Talcum powder?  Whatever.  Anyway, back to discussing butter!"

Okay, I get you.  I'm not sure there's a systematic solution to your problem ("What makes a character appealing and sympathetic?" you ask, in the context of how to get people to reliably and regularly produce such characters in play).  Clearly you can't be asking for a list of attributes that are likeable, universally.  That's either too easy or too hard, because while it's easy enough to come up with characteristics that are generally positive, it's hard to make that list anything other than vague and self-contradictory principles:  funny, but not a unreconstructed joker, or else serious but well-intentioned;  smart, but not a snobby egghead, or else dumb but lovable.

No, what you want is a process that makes players describe characters in such a way that you get to see them when they are active but not under stress ("on their best day ever").  Because you think that that's essential for getting at "the complete character," rather than merely the character as conflict-participant, -medium, and -outcome.  I get that.  And you want the process to be usable not merely as a heuristic that you employ in your own character creation, but as something that you can reliably build into a game as instructions for other people.  I get that too -- although I sense that you are maybe not ready to simply plug something in that you're not sure theoretically why it works.

What I think you need to do is look good and hard at the process you went through in getting a draft of Kyle that you liked, that made you like him.  Look at that draft again.  Notice how it's built on contrasts, on contradictions even?  Kyle is not very bright, but he's insightful.  He's scary, but he can be kind.  He's grim, but when he smiles he gives it all he's got.  The essence of the character is there, not in the contradictions, but in the explanation of how those contradictions could possibly fit together.

I gotta think that's the basic procedure you want folks to go through, and that's what I was trying to recommend.

[TonyLB]

Hrmmmm.... Got some good cross-pollination happening with different people here, and I'm going to try to benefit from it.

How about this for a key to making a sympathetic character: we have to understand why they are the way they are. We need to understand their thinking and motivations enough to "get it" when they make different decisions than we would.

Yeah, definitely.  If I don't understand (or at least believe that when I know enough I will understand) why a character does what they do then they can't be sympathetic.  And, also, I want those motivations to emerge from some human quality that I, as a person and a player, still have to think hard about.

Like, Warner Brothers has dozens upon dozens of failed cartoon characters who are basically obsessed hunters pursuing clever prey.  Dozens.  Yet, I understand the issue:  Hungry, obsessed hunter.  Clever, annoying prey.  I get why they do what they do.  But hunger and petty annoyance are sort of boring to me.  They're solved problems.  I get where they fit in life.

Assertion:  You only get a stand-out character when the motivation comes from something a bit more robust (Wile E. Coyote's pride and tenacious ingenuity, Elmer Fudd's deeply conservative sense of role and the proper order of things).  "Robust" issues in this sense are one character's answer to a question that I think is non-trivial ... one that has many answers.

I don't know if that assertion is true, but I'll assert it and maybe people can knock it down.

What I think you need to do is look good and hard at the process you went through in getting a draft of Kyle that you liked, that made you like him.  Look at that draft again.  Notice how it's built on contrasts, on contradictions even?  Kyle is not very bright, but he's insightful.  He's scary, but he can be kind.  He's grim, but when he smiles he gives it all he's got.  The essence of the character is there, not in the contradictions, but in the explanation of how those contradictions could possibly fit together.

Hey, yeah!  And that's a self-contained recognition of the robustness of the question (see above).  What's more important, intelligence or wisdom?  Well, Kyle puts forth one possible answer, but also poses the question.  Is it better to be loved or feared?  That question is posed by the character.

If you draw those things into conflict, and particularly if you resolve that conflict, you're saying "We're going to try to critically examine this question and see if we can figure some things out."  And that's cool and all.  But if you just make those traits and their contrast, even without doing any critical examination, you're saying to people "Yes, I know that life isn't simple."  That statement, all on its own, has a power to connect to people.

I'm just brimming with examples this thead (and more to come!)  Suppose you have a feisty, small, slightly built elf fighter and a big, slow, heavily muscled human barbarian, and they're a team.  Whoops.  Rephrase that.  Look at Ffafhrd and the Grey Mouser.  They're a study in contrasts, about what makes a cool fighter.  I suppose they could get into a conflict about whether brute strength or speed and agility are the most important aspects, but it's certainly not necessary.  The fact that they provide that contrast shows us that the author thought about the complexity of the issue, and (I think) that makes the characters more sympathetic.

So maybe that answers one of my earlier questions.  Yes, for some definition of "tension", everything does need to be in tension with something else.  If we want an aspect of the character to be non-trivial then we need to be shown that it is not the only possibility.

Mechanics-wise:  It would be sort of fun to do volley-ball style volleys, with people making a chain of contrasts.

Me:  Meticulous
Eric:  Carefree and rebellious
Jennifer:  Obedient and clumsy
Eric:  Graceful and arrogant
Jennifer:  Humble and contented
Me:  Miserable and quiet
Eric:  Loud and friendly
Me:  Shy and insightful
Jennifer:  Foolish and energetic
Me:  Restrained.

[TonyLB]

So, I actually got to play Misery Bubblegum in the G.A.I.A. setting last night, with Eric.  It was cool.

He (independently of anything I'd said, I think) wanted to play a hot-shot ... a surfer-dude who was lackadaisical about the meetings and protocol and stuff, but dead serious about saving the world.  The contrasts immediately flew hot and heavy.  Cody thinks rules are just for bossing kids around with.  Kyle thinks that following the rules is a sign of consideration for others.  Cody is friendly and connected outside of the organization.  Kyle is withdrawn, and has clearly lived much of his life in G.A.I.A. facilities.  Cody considers his monster (a lightning elemental) "safe," almost like a pet.  Kyle considers his monster (an amalgam of damned souls) to be even more dangerous than the Gods they face, and moves it about only with the most abusive and restrictive constraints.

It was fun and sick and awesome, in a buddy-movie-gone-horribly-wrong way.

Eric won several of the opening conflicts, while I steadily built up a bank of Contrast/Motif dice for later use.  So Kyle is a stick in the mud, and Cody is cool, and Cody has a better rapport with his monster, and Cody's cool at the beach.  And then things got all ugly.  A God of clotted starlight in human form appeared, and people flocked to worship (cuz it's a brainwashing monster).  Cody is suddenly up against peer pressure, and we rule (after Eric lost a big conflict) that he has to admit that he's basically got no defense against that kind of thing.  Kyle pulls him away, and they retreat, then return with their monsters.  Of course, by then, the God has a funky little tent-city of worshippers surrounding its altar at the Transamerica building like a living wall of meat-shield.  Eric tried valiantly to win the conflict whose stakes were, respectively, "We're clearly going to go destroy the God.  If I win then we do it with no important loss of human life," vs. "And if I win ... get a mop and a bucket."

So, I managed a come-from-behind victory on that one, largely because of the huge amount of momentum I'd built up on Kyle being the straight-arrow who follows the rules.  It turns out G.A.I.A.'s rules of engagement are pretty much of the "wipe out enemy combatants en masse, no matter who they were two hours ago," mindset.  Cody has to face the fact that, no matter how much he's got things under control, he's working for an agency that does some Very Bad Things.

Then, to follow that up, I actually managed to win the next conflict, which is about the aftermath.  So they regain consciousness on what is now the top of the TransAmerica building (several shattered stories below the previous top) and they're in the middle of a pounding lightning storm, because Cody's elemental has gone out of control.  Cody tries to rein the critter in with kindness and cajolery, but is forced (for the first time) to resort to the monster-punishing gadgets that G.A.I.A. provided him with.

So, as we summed up immediately afterwards:  Cody discovers that life sometimes throws him a curveball, and immediately turns around to horrifically abuse the one creature he has complete power over.

I want to play this again, so much.  I already have serious, serious thoughts.  There's a contrast between the monstrous and the human, and I can get it any time the monsters are on screen.  We could even do a conflict, if we wanted to:  How human are the humans?  How monstrous are the monsters?  But it'd also be cool just to have the humans doing compassionate, normal, human things and to contrast that against the unholy apparitions they are bound to.

[Bill_White]

Nothing substantive to say, Tony, other than "Very cool."

[Kirk Mitchell]

I think that the cross pollination we have here is essential. The contradictions of the character, how all these fit together; these make the character interesting to watch. And our understanding of the character as a person is what allows us to connect at whatever level we do. I wrote up some stuff last night about how to create a better understanding of a character so we can connect to them. I'll post that later on today.

Cheers,
Kirk

[Kirk Mitchell]

It sounded kinda essay-ish, so I posted it in my blog instead.

Cheers,
Kirk

[Steven Stewart]

Tony,

I want to go back to your OP. Where you talk about character. I have been doing that a lot in my game that I am designing recently as well and playtesting. I want to just share what has worked for me. Take from it what you will. In my two playtests this part of the game has been the same and hasn't changed, it has worked for our group.

Themes
Each character at creation has two themes. One is external, one is internal. External is what they as a character want to achieve. It is concrete, it is a goal that can be measured and accomplished. It is what drives them to do what they do. The second one Internal is a quesion. Is is for lack of a better term by me "the thing in Lit class your teacher is wanting you to look for in a book" I think for a good RPG this internal theme has to be a question where the answer is discovered as you play.

Examples
Here are two examples from our playtest...

First one - A japanese Oyabun in a cyperpunkesque new tokyo near future game
External - Protect the family interests at all costs
Internal - Can I really help the common man and be an Oyabun?

Second One - A fantasy princess who has discovered her magic mutant powers (which could caused her to be hanged)
External - Escape without being hanged
Internal - Can I ever be accepted as who I am?

Third One (from the second game a different player who hunts down those with magic mutant powers)
External - Hunt down those that have the wyrd to make the world a  safer place
Internal - Am I really doing the right thing with such much blood on my hands?

Conclusion
The external theme makes it easy for everyone to see what their goals are. The internal one makes it easy to know what the player wants to explore in the game (their "premise"). Making sure that they are in conflict with each other (such as the third one) makes it an interesting character from the start.

Maybe there is something there for you to use, or at least look at it from a different angle. I see characters as tools to express ideas in play. I can use any basic hard and flat object as a hammer (I have used many of my life time guarantee sockets as hammers in the past in RL). But a well designed hammer gets the nail in better. If nothing else, hopefully this post gives you the idea that there exists others struggling with similar ideas as yours - which I paraphrase as "How can we build characters that promote good stories [conflicts] rather than just "how can we make good stories [conflicts]".

Cheers for now,

Tokyo Steve