Opportunity Actions: Take Your Ball. Go Home.

*WARNING! This post is at a high risk of becoming a rant. Hide the children.*

I have been looking for a game lately. With a lack of good local games that I can readily jump into, I have turned to the internet.

I have recently experienced a very disturbing thing that I would like to share with you all. I have a feeling this will resonate with some of you more expereinced folk, and serve as a warning to our beloved newbies.

I have become quite a fan of the ICONS RPG. It’s pretty freeform in style, and gives a lot of room for goofiness in the vein of those great Silver Age comics. You know the ones. “Pardon me, MacGuffin-Man. I was just. Doing. Some. Science…”

Anyway…

I started a PbP (Play-by-Post for you uninitiated-types) game through a Yahoo! group. The rules were a little different from what one might expect from a traditional RPG environment. We had the oh-so-common issue of plenty of players, but not enough (or any, really) GMs. We all showed an interest in GMing, but no one truly wanted to be pigeonholed into the role of providing the story while everybody else got to wear the tights. Don’t forget; it *IS* a supers game, here.

The decision was made that we would rotate GMing. The way it works is we each come up with a hero, establish the setting, and then each player creates a villain to be the nemesis of another player’s hero. Each hero takes the Challenge: Enemy (it’s a FATE thing). When it’s a given player’s turn to run a game, that player will take his villain, come up with a scenario, and challenge the other heroes.

Everybody LOVED this idea. One guy even offered to run the first scenario right out of the gate.

Then A Problem Arose.

Our first GM took the reins on setting up the group page. That much was fine. He gave it a name. I’m not going to get too specific here, so as not to bruise egos. He wrote a blurb that detailed some history. Before any of us realized, he dropped us into a setting. His setting. The one he uses for his home game.

Now, I looked at it. In all honesty, it wasn’t bad. Unfortunately, it seemed a little dark for the type of game I might have been interested in, so I put it to a vote. The other players agreed. We all kind of thought we were building the setting together, and that we’d have some say in the elements of the background. Not so, apparently. When it came to light that this wasn’t what we were going for, the guy abruptly deleted everything he posted, handed off ownership of the group page, and quit the group. He took his ball and went home.

It Gets Weird – The Points

Before going, he made some high-minded comment that without a setting, there can be no context, without context, there can be no conflict, and without conflict, there can be no game. I’d like to take a minute to address each of these points.

Without a setting, there can be no context.

I’m never a fan of being an armchair vocabulary teacher. Here, though, I think it needs to be done.

• Setting – n. the locale or period in which the action of a novel, play, film,etc., takes place.
• Context – n. the set of circumstances or facts that surround a particular event, situation, etc.

See how I look now? That’s why I don’t like doing that. I did it to illustrate the point, though. Setting is where everything happens. Context, when you look at how both words are defined from a gaming perspective, is the exact same thing. Can there be context without a setting? Probably in the same way that without ham and bread, there can be no ham sandwich.

Without context, there can be no conflict.

I just find this to be flat-out wrong. Context doesn’t provide conflict. Conflict comes forth from the interactions of the people involved. Context may provide a mechanism through which events can occur, but it’s the personalities at work that create and define the conflict. Banks don’t exist to get robbed. Bank robbers make that happen.

Without conflict, there can be no game.

If by game he meant drama, I guess that’s right, but it seems like strange terminology to couch the sentiment in. I know it lends gravity and legitimacy to the whole series of statements, but if the other two points make no sense, then this third one loses all of its impact. If this is the point that the argument drives toward, perhaps the statement should read more like:

Without a setting, characters have no point of reference to each other. If characters have no point of reference to each other they have fewer opportunities for meaningful conflict. Without meaningful conflict, drama diminishes, and your game will suffer.

That makes sense. In fact, that’s great advice to give a GM who is having trouble motivating his players. When things start to drag, flip the setting a little, and watch the players deal with the fallout.

The Point Was Missed.

Nobody ever suggested we play a game without a setting. By simple virtue of the fact that we are in a superhero game, there *is* a setting. No matter what the actual circumstances of the world are, there a re people with abilities beyond normal human capacity doing things that are beyond reckoning. That aside, we were all talking about a game where we, the players, decide on elements as we deem them important. There could be nothing further from the concept of NO setting. Not only did we want a setting, we wanted to weave together a setting that makes our characters an intrinsic value in that tapestry

We just didn’t want THAT setting.

Moving On

Since this happened, the group has gone on to create a fantastic setting. There’s great reasons for everyone to be there, there’s the groundwork for potential conflict within the group, and there are plenty of openings for a villain or a few to step in and shake things up. Most importantly, we got there without needing someone to step in and decide every last detail.

The Point Of All This

My advice here is actually about pride and stubbornness, and not a lesson about collaborative setting creation vs. the GM-designed world. See, the thing that made this a problem is that the guy who began this whole tumult appeared to want things entirely his way. In the absence of that, it looked as though the best option would be to flip the virtual table, and make a big show of his distaste for what we all wanted to do.

Don’t be this guy. Whoever you are at the table, understand that you are one of a group of people. Sometimes you need to sacrifice what seems like a good idea to let a better idea blossom. You can save your idea for a time when it might work better. Everybody wants their moment. Everybody has valuable things to contribute. If you can’t humble yourself occasionally and share the spotlight, you’re in the wrong hobby.

Am I the only one that’s seen this sort of thing happen? Let’s hear it. I’d put money down I’m not the only one.

Watch your threatened squares.

UPDATE!: An interesting post-script to this whole thing. That player has come back to the group, interested in playing. Perhaps he decided that he could integrate into the setting. I’m interested in seeing where it goes. I hope it turns out to be a learning experience for us all.