Nightshade Alley

Session 1.5

Concept in brief: Trolls and Faeries and Bogies and Things that go Bump, are all real in a sort-of modern, sort-of Victorian, sort-of-London. Everyone knows they’re real, and lives in even more terror, isolation, and desperate self-centeredness than in the real world. Can love exist in such a place?

The players: newlyweds Nate and Jenni, and myself. We’re going with shared Producer responsibilities so we can each have a protagonist. Nate’s character is Rodrick, a young monster-hunting hermit, lost his family years ago in werewolf attack, his issue is “extreme distrust of otherworld and yet bound by his own sense of right and wrong.” I tend to shorthand this to “trust,” or alternately “Prejudice vs. justice.” Mine is Wintermere, a young woman of mixed human and Fae blood, an outcast in both worlds, burdened with some horrible magical obligation, and fleeing from the debt-collectors. Her issue is “Belonging.” Jenni’s is Catlyn, an early-middle-aged woman, guarded and calculating, proprietor of a shop for magical remedies and defenses. More on her issue and background below; it was revised in play.

The long-winded account of our first session (or more accurately, false start) can be read here. In short, we had a rough start, mostly in finding our footing, getting comfortable with what we were supposed to do. Jen and Nate have never roleplayed before, and though I believe PTA to be uniquely suited to such a play-group, I think they were a bit intimidated and bewildered by the process. Due to hesitancy and awkwardness, as well as extra-game considerations, we didn’t make it through even a whole episode, probably more like a quarter-ep (we spent a long time on series and character creation). And the evening passed with nary a conflict in sight. We came up with a set of opening events that everyone liked, so there seemed to be no reason to challenge them. I went away liking the series’ potential, but dissatisfied with play.

It was a couple of weeks before we got to play again, and I had time to mull things over. When we re-convened, I talked things over with Nate and Jen, both about aspects of the play process that weren’t working, and about elements of the actual story that weren’t clicking for me. On the story front, I felt that we were losing the fear, the shadowy, dark feeling of trolls and ghouls lurking around every corner, and ending up with something a bit more Harry Potter. On the procedural side, the main problem was that we weren’t getting straight to the conflicts, just sort of flouncing about with Color. I explained that without a Producer proper, we all needed to be more proactive about pursuing conflicts, and not be afraid to get in each other’s faces, challenge statements, throwing up adversity, etc. I reminded everyone (including myself) that the conflicts should key to the Issues, so we should be looking for issue-related strife in every scene. I got general agreement and understanding, and we set about to adjust our play accordingly.

As fixes for these problems, we tried a couple of things: one, I volunteered, since my character was wounded and comatose, to maybe sit out as a Protagonist this episode, and act as full-on Producer to get the juices flowing. I later ended up revoking this when we decided it was best for Wintermere to wake up and participate in a conflict, but I think it helped initially to move things along and give everyone the idea of “oh, this is how we do this.” The second fix was to back up and re-describe a few things, and re-run the first session’s biggest interactive scene with an honest-to-God conflict. This really worked well and energized the rest of the session. Also, we decided going to a hospital to cure Werewolfism made it too cheap and easy. Instead, the were-poison reacts differently (as-yet-unspecified) in Winter’s case, on account of Fae blood.

The few scenes that we accomplished in the first session were: Wintermere is fleeing through a forest, pursued by werewolves, Rodrick leaps to her rescue, and the semi-conscious Winter mumbles about the Whistling Man, a name Rodrick darkly recognizes; Rodrick carries the severely injured and werewolf-bitten Winter from his hermitage to the City (big establishing shot at dawn) for treatment; after an establishing trek through the city streets, they arrive at Catlyn’s shop on Nightshade Alley; Catlyn demands payment for treatment, and Rodrick simply refuses and walks out, leaving Cat to curse in helplessness and treat Winter anyway; Cat decides Winter needs a full blood transfusion for the Werewolf poison, and encounters Rodrick out in the street, enlisting him to help carry Winter to hospital.

Our biggest revision was Catlyn’s Issue. She originally had “Distrust of Men,” but when we reconvened, Jenni confessed that she was really dissatisfied with it, as she didn’t relate to it personally and it didn’t really connect well with the other issues. She chose “self-serving” instead, and it transformed her character wholesale. “Master Manipulator” replaced “Mission to reconcile human and Fey” as an Edge, and she became a darker character, sort of a Lex luthor-style schemer, using her position with a foot in both Mundane and Magickal worlds to further her own shady, as-yet-unnamed ends. Catlyn suddenly had something to do, to strive for, and a reason to enter into meaningful conflict with the other protags. We all can’t wait to see what devilish schemes she’s got up her sleeve.

We went back and tweaked the descriptions a bit to make it a bit more shadowy and ominous; my favorite touch (Nate’s, I believe) was Wintermere dripping blood and Rodrick carries her grimly through the city, folk shutting and barring their doors in fear, rather than offer assistance. Then we played through the scene at Cat’s shop (now named the Blade and Bottle), with conflict in mind. We keyed to both Cat’s new issue and Rodrick’s, the stakes being that if Catlyn wins, she receives some gain from helping Winter, and if Rodrick wins, he gets relieved of the obligation, at least for now. It was such an obvious, but pivotal, realization that the most obvious “uncertain outcome,” which is, “does Cat help Winter,” was simply NOT at stake in the issue. We assume that she’ll help her one way or the other because Winter needs to survive for the story’s sake—what’s up for grabs are the personal ramifications. So cool!

So Rodrick won his stakes, and Catlyn lost hers. So Rod got to walk out on Cat as before, and Cat helped Winter begrudgingly, with no prospect of reward. Now, this is exactly what happened before, true—but with the conflict mechanics in play, it was so much more dynamic and alive. Narration was much more spirited, and I think we all understood the ramifications of what was happening; for one thing, we had a grasp of all the possible combinations—Rod and Cat both win, Rod and Cat both lose, Rod loses and Cat wins, etc. And now we were explicitly stating what the personal effect of these events were on each character, instead of just taking it for granted that it would emerge.

The scenes flowed pretty well after that, though we didn’t get to do very many; our time was cut short again. If this was real TV, I’d say it was a half-hour pilot for an hour show. After leaving the shop, Rodric went to visit a troll acquaintance (she saved his life when his family was killed, he has grudging gratitude) to ask what’s up with the werewolf attacks and such growing bolder of late. I used the opportunity to try and flesh out the city and denizens more, describing a kind of Dickensian squalor, and general furtiveness. I threw in a street beggar soliciting Roderic. Nate said, “no, he doesn’t give him anything.” Jenni asked, “What about his sense of justice?” Nate replied, “well, he has a very particular kind of justice; I mean, I wouldn’t have given anything either, I guess Rodric’s a reflection of me that way.” I found this interesting; I haven’t known Nate that long, and honestly it was kind of off-putting to me, since I do give to beggars and have a lot of sympathy for the homeless. Not like, “Nate sucks now,” but just kind of. . ."hmm. Oh." I think it gives me an idea of what kind of pressure to put on his issue in future conflicts, leaning toward a brutal examination of what justice is, what relationship it has with mercy, etc.

I called for a conflict at Rod’s meeting with the troll, namely, does he find out anything about what’s going on, or is his prejudice off-putting enough that he gets nothing from her? Rodric lost—he made some remark about “your kind,” and she responded in like manner. Something big is indeed up, but he’s catching no flies with his vinegar.

We had a conflict between Catlyn and Wintermere. . .as Cat administers to her, Winter starts to come around, and Cat plies her with talk to gain information. Cat’s stake: does she gain any useful info? Winter’s stake: does she grow closer to Catlyn, gaining a friend even if it’s phony on Cat’s end? We both lost, so Winter came to and caught her self just as she was about to spill about who’s after her and why, and Cat, seeing she’d missed her chance, turned a cold shoulder.

Then Rodric returned to the shop, since Wintermere and her Whistling Man is his best lead to what’s going on. Catlyn insisted that the girl couldn’t stay here, and Winter was too injured to travel, so Rodric took her to a nearby inn. Then a sort of “zoom” by way of a series of cuts out over the city, then back to Rodric’s hill, as the sun sets. Close in where Winter’s blood stains the grass. A shadow falls across thescene, and we hear. . .an eerie. . .whistling. . .

Cue closing credits.

(Closing theme: “Jacob Marley’s Chain” by Aimee Mann. Our soundtrack for the show far has been Afro Celt Sound System vol. 2: Release, The Mask and the Mirror by Lerena McKennitt, and the Five O’Clock People, a local folksy group, on a live CD backed by string ensemble.)

We all left the table feeling good about what we’d accomplished. It was still a somewhat bare session, owing to slow start, but it was good because the time was spent re-tooling and focusing in a better direction. Even after the re-tool, we were kind of timid and uncertain, but we just took a leap of freakin’ faith and poured ourselves into it, and were well rewarded.

I’ve NEVER even experienced a ghost of this approach in roleplaying. The usual MO is to come off a bum session and kind of slog through the next one in hopes that it’ll improve. To actually WORK OUT—with the other human beings that you’re playing with, the difficulties in play, and even REVISE, if you don’t like how things went, is so, so, freeing and wonderful. I know I’m not the first, but I want to hug Matt Wilson.

A final side note: I gave out two fanmails in the session: one to Nate for an awesome sketch he doodled of our sunrise shot over the city, and one to Jenni for the deliciously conniving way she narrated Cat’s pumping poor delierious Wintermere. I knew it wouldn’t matter, with the session coming to a close; they weren’;t spent, and we didn’t even go through a third of our budget. But I wanted to give people an idea of how do it, and get everyone comfortable with it.

Peace,
-Joel

PS Somebody tell me if these posts are just TOO LONG, especially tell me what kinds of details I can shorten or leave out, etc. I'm trying to stick to the essentials, but the posts just keep growng. . .('course, if the length ain't a problem you can tell me that too. :) )

I hugged him after playing Primetime Adventures for the first time. I don't think he liked it very much - nice guy, but not all touchy-feely, you know?

I'll respond more substantively tomorrow.

Best, Ron

Yeah, I was thinking about your account of doing that. (Moose in the City and Epidemonology were the AP accounts that told me I needed this game) As I wrote the above I suddenlyrealized I knew just how you felt. :)

Peace,

Hey Joel:

Awesome! Glad you had a good time.

The thing about hugging Ron is you can't be sure where his hands have been.

Say, uh, Ron, were you still planning on responding to this thread? Not trying to be a pest, but I was interested in what you'd have to say. . .

. . .and besides, it's getting real lonely around here. (crickets)

Thanks,

Shit! "My bad," as my students say. Also, as moderator, I frown upon bumping threads to elicit posts, but you're right - I was planning to reply and got totally sidetracked. For future reference, a private message will do the job better.

Anyway.

First thing concerns this whole Producer issue. PTA needs a Producer. Bluntly, you hosed your friends because they had no idea that adversity arrives through play itself, and not only didn't do it, they didn't know it had to be done. That's what the Producer is for in this game (as opposed to, say, managing all narration or gerrymandering the outcomes of scenes). Although you seem to have fixed it, I urge you to consider that your collective play-experience was strongest when one person really did put on that hat.

As a subpoint, if budget and fanmail aren't movin', that's the signal that real adversity isn't hitting hard. I suggest using up that budget as fast as you can, and reminding people that fanmail is there to be given. I typically roll the maximum dice as the Producer, and to date, have observed no downside at all in doing so.

Second, good on you a hundred times over for actually talking it over with the others and working with their genuine desire to play even if it didn't fly so well at first. Gamers are hooked on instant gratification and just-as-fast rejection when it doesn't appear; by acting as not-a-gamer, you successfully achieved Story Now greatness with folks who would otherwise have been puzzled at why you didn't follow up. Good, good, good on you. Can't say it enough.

As a sub-point, can you see how damn skilled they were at stuff like issues and adversity, when they got an idea of how this works? When Jenni revised her character's issue, she was dealing with it in ways that most long-term gamers would never have imagined - prioritizing based on her own thematic interests, paying no attention to "must - play - character!" or anything like that. When Nate casually divulged the personal quality of his own that informed his character's key decisions, do you see how that's light-years away from the usual claim that "well, that's the character, he would have done that" behind which the real person hides? Story Now is something people can do. Most gamers have had it sandblasted out of their minds. The very last people we can expect to role-play effectively, in the Story Now sense, are ... role-players!

Best,
Ron

Hi, Ron,

Thanks for the reply!

First, RE: Bump vs. PM. . .gotcha, shoulda known that, for some reason it doesn't always occur to me to PM even when it would be the obvious useful or tactful option. I'l hafta watch that.

Your point on Producer-ship is well taken as well as borne out by painful experience. I guess the Producer-less decision was born of two factors: one, I simply wanted in on the Protagonist action, so I tweaked the decision to allow for that. And two, due to the lack of traditional GM duties/powers like the ones you mention, it kinda looked to me initially like "well, gee, what does a Producer DO, really?" It seemed (maybe it still does, a little) like taking away the main GM "bennies" (like authorial control) without offering anything in return. I can see on reflection that really getting into the players' face vis a vis their Issues, and turning up the heat on conflicts until they boil deliciously over, is its own very rewarding fun. But the initial (OK, knee-jerk) response was like, "what, I just facilitate their addressing, I don't get to address, myself?"

I dunno quite how to proceed from here; I'll have to see what Nate and Jen think, but if there's no objection I guess I could still continue to play a Protag, while also doing mor Producer-facilitating. And perhaps rotate Producer-ship around to someone else for Winter's spotlight. Which reminds me, that was an idea I had awhile back and forgot, to possibly rotate Producer-ship in general, giving it to someone with a SP 1 when possible. Any thoughts on viability?

Ron wrote:
As a subpoint, if budget and fanmail aren't movin', that's the signal that real adversity isn't hitting hard. I suggest using up that budget as fast as you can, and reminding people that fanmail is there to be given. I typically roll the maximum dice as the Producer, and to date, have observed no downside at all in doing so.

Ron wrote:
Second, good on you a hundred times over for actually talking it over with the others and working with their genuine desire to play even if it didn't fly so well at first. Gamers are hooked on instant gratification and just-as-fast rejection when it doesn't appear; by acting as not-a-gamer, you successfully achieved Story Now greatness with folks who would otherwise have been puzzled at why you didn't follow up. Good, good, good on you. Can't say it enough.

Ron wrote:
As a sub-point, can you see how damn skilled they were at stuff like issues and adversity, when they got an idea of how this works? When Jenni revised her character's issue, she was dealing with it in ways that most long-term gamers would never have imagined - prioritizing based on her own thematic interests, paying no attention to "must - play - character!" or anything like that. When Nate casually divulged the personal quality of his own that informed his character's key decisions, do you see how that's light-years away from the usual claim that "well, that's the character, he would have done that" behind which the real person hides? Story Now is something people can do. Most gamers have had it sandblasted out of their minds. The very last people we can expect to role-play effectively, in the Story Now sense, are ... role-players!