Plots & spontaneity

It’s been difficult deciding the next step. I’m torn between developing my own rules versus relying on the preexisting structure of a published game system. Even if that preexisting structure allows great versatility and customization, will it be the right fit for what I want to achieve? For instance, I’ve been reading about Powered by the Apocalypse RPGs, especially Urban Shadows (which seems to make the PbtA structure a bit more accessible—and interestingly enough, I find Urban Shadows more akin to the “apocalypse” story I want to share than Apocalypse World). Then I find myself faced with the yet unanswered question of what better suits in-depth storytelling, more traditional game mechanics like D&D and other d20 systems with which everyone is familiar, or a more non-traditional game structure like PbtA that puts storytelling also in the players’ hands? Are the “easy-to-pick-up” and spontaneous qualities of PbtA suitable to a world I want to weave thick with plots and secrets? I think ultimately, I want the game structure to grow out of the themes and setting, but complexity, accessibility, and functionality of the vehicle for a story should always be kept in mind. I also need more experience playing various RPGs before adapting anything. Who knows, perhaps I’ll return to Mutants & Masterminds.

153464So do I return to content, the humanoid and alien beings that inhabit the fictional world I want to create? Do I further delineate concepts of the soul as they pertain to the setting and such entities, so that key game mechanics emerge from those concepts? Perhaps, if I want to create a setting thick with history, plots, and secrets, I should consider—not only (or perhaps instead of) committing all such content to writing—creating game mechanics that facilitate running such a game? To take this a step further, I’ve considered how to go about the unfolding of plots and timelines, to instill in players a sense of urgency and anticipation, for events leading up to the impending apocalypse.

The conundrum to which I return over and over again is simple: How much of a story (the plot) do I clearly delineate, and how much do I leave open-ended for others to create their own stories within the world I want to create? Do I want to tell a story, or do I want to create the essence of a certain kind of story? What do my players desire?

 

An (un)believable apocalypse

Right, no fretting over the imperfections of last week’s post or missing my self-appointed Monday date with blogging. I may be a day (or two) late, but I’m here. Let’s get on with it, shall we?

For a very long time, I’ve had a vague idea about writing (or “telling”) a sort of apocalypse story. Not post-apocalyptic, but of an apocalypse, a story about the world directly before and during its end. But I also say “sort of” because—I suppose like many post-apocalyptic narratives—the world doesn’t actually end. The world as we know it ends; the world and its inhabitants undergo dramatic change, and the rules change (this is the important bit, to which I’ll return later). So to be more precise, I want to tell a story about the events leading up to the world-as-we-know-it falling apart, then paint the epic beauty that is that falling apart. I know, it’s been done, almost as often as all the stories about “the world after the fall”. What do I have new to offer, especially if my idea is only vague? Well, that’s a very important question that I’m going to set aside for a moment. Don’t worry, I don’t want to tell another zombie story. But I first want to dig into my current creative process here.

watchtower2My vague ideas have followed numerous paths, often stopping before they start, so that despite reoccurring themes and concepts, I’ve never followed any one idea to its conclusive apocalypse. In fact, I often find myself more caught up in what happens before the end. Perhaps my wanting to tell this story is a bit like the millenarian Christian prophesies of Armageddon with which I grew up as a child; although ever present in my mind, just ahead in the near future, it never actually comes to fruition. Or perhaps I’m caught up in a particular zeitgeist—that portion of human civilization that seems hellbent on (the idea of) its own destruction.

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