| So, right, back to Planet Fucking Crazy. I was talking about game systems that would be appropriate for doing games set on PFC in my last post, so come up to speed there if you’re lagging behind.
A number of people posted replies, and I think it’s probably a good idea to start by answering some of their questions in the main context, then moving on to the larger issues. merb101 and jake_richmond both bring up Classroom Deathmatch, which is a fine, fine example of a game which definitely borrows elements of PFC. In CD, you essentially enact the events of Battle Royale, playing out the actions of a number of students forced to kill one another until only one is left. This is definitely a suburb of one of the main cities on PFC, without question. Where there’s a bit lacking is in the fairly limited scope that CD allows you to game out. It’s a very, very focused architecture and if you really want to do something beyond Battle Royale, there’d be a lot of work waiting for you.
Beyond the focus, there’s another, more metatextual reason to avoid Panty Explosion / CD for PFC setting games. One of the big mechanical hooks of the PE system is the idea that your character has a Rival and a Best Friend; your Best Friend narrates how you succeed in a conflict and your Rival narrates your failures. This is wonderful, brilliant design. Absolutely incomperable in many ways, but one of the effects is to focus on your character’s interpersonal connections to other characters as a mover of narrative power. Additionally, the size of the die you roll in conflicts is directly tied to your character’s social popularity. Again, an awesome reification of the high school experience, but it’s not entirely appropriate for the bulk of the PFC experience since character social leverage is often directly at odds with their narrative influence. In fact, in many cases it appears the further you are outcast socially from core culture on PFC, the more influential you are. This may be because everyone on PFC is, indeed, fucking crazy. The quiet next door neighbor, the friendly cop on the corner, your best friend, your parents?! All of them absolutely, unequivocably, entirely bugshit nuts, possibly only requiring the slightest nudge to boil up girlfriend-face stew or believe their grief makes them physically invincible. As much as I love PE/CD, guys, it’s better grounded in a setting that’s not wholly on PFC. The more FC you want, the more you need to lean on the social-focus strengths of the system, and they’re at odds. As Jake says, “Plus, Classroom Deathmatch is free!” which is its own advocation. I suggest going to check it out, and having a good time with it even if it is only in the same solar system as Planet Fucking Crazy. _grimtales_ suggests Feng Shui which, while it’s one of my favourite mid-crunch games, I’m just going to have to say “No” to. Yes, you could run around on PFC in FS, the problem as I see it for that solution is one of insufficient insanity and a tendency toward over-mechanification. So much of the things your character can attempt and be successful have to be pre-considered and worked into the sheet that it doesn’t catch the edge of the wave you need to ride to get really deep into PFC. Plus, it’s just too crunchy for what it does. A great game for the period (1996 for the 1st ed, 1999 for the second), but really, guys, we’ve moved past explicit skill lists in mechanics for almost half a decade now. FS was great in the fact it helped pioneer the “merged attribute-skill matrix” as I think of it, with the ability to apply different attributes to a skill to get different results. That was great. But it’s kind of done these days; Trait systems express the core idea better and more flexibly.
thandrak suggests Teenagers From Outer Space or Toon. This is me giving you the stink-eye, dude. Not the least reason being in the first case it’s always better to recommend something that’s actually seen print this decade, and in the latter … Take six Bonk. Have you ever tried running something even remotely serious (and PFC is very remotely serious) with either of those? Aside from having mechanics that grate and jitter like a twenty-year old transmission that’s never been tuned up, neither of them even remotely work for the feel we’re talking about. I’ll even cop to having Toon and all its suppliments on my shelf, but I’d never think of taking it down for this.
Next post, I promise, I’ll get down to talking about Beast Hunters, Over the Edge and Universalis, plus the obvious option I completely forgot, Wushu. Possibly, in a flash of “spacing it out and making fat egoboo from each one because I write as if I’m posting game suppliments, one at a time and stretched out interminably” I’ll treat each one seperately. | |
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| Tonight I watched, jaw-dropped and eyes huge and round like big black icons of delight, that work of profound iconography, Tokyo Gore Police from the same team as Machine Girl. As you might expect from the title, it’s heavy on the ol’ ultra-violence, with horrific mutilations, explosions of blood, emotionless murders, schoolgirl prostitution, and all the wonders you really expect from a Yoshihiro Nishimura piece.
But that led me to start thinking. There are a number of movies in that genre of artistic expression. Tetsuo: The Iron Man and its sequel. Ichi the Killer. By most measures we could include the entire creative output of Takashi Miike in there if we wanted to. What system, pray tell, could possibly wrap its evil little head around the sheer levels of absurdity that modelling such things would require? Yes, this is another gaming post. We have a huge number of options which live both on my HD and on my shelves. There’s a truly immense and bogglesome swath to choose from. There are some constraints but at heart they boil down to a simple axiom: The system can’t be very crunchy at all. And here’s why: The action in the actual play has to be almost utterly unconstrained. It has to not only be possible, but perfectly reasonable for someone to — say — have their left arm cut off and simply grow a demonic, one-eyed fanged maw to replace it, or for someone to rip open their guts and use their intestines as a lasso. That’s the kind of inspired insanity that happens regularly in this genre, and it’s just that kind of thing that most systems that ostensibly promise to be about “stunts” and “over the top action” mechanize to the point it’s ultimately less rewarding to do such things in them. Let me amplify on that a bit. Until very recently in game design, the idea that doing something cool should be mechanically harder for higher results was taken pretty much as law from on high. In an essenential way Exalted, despite being a system widely lauded for its “over the top” nature, is the modern exemplar. Sure, Stunting (as improvising something that gets an “oh, cool” from onlookers) is possible in the system and mechanically supported, but it often involves facing a higher Difficulty Target for a given test. Even with the 1, 2, or 3 Stunt dice such a move may bring (very rarely 3), statistically it means that having a running swordfight while literally running on the heads of a throng in Times Square would be less likely to succeed than just having it on the sidewalk. Completely the wrong way to manage things. Additionally, most of the “free form” designs really are more tightly constrained by pre-imagined specification than you’d want for this genre. Games like Truth and Justice have mostly free-form pre-defined Traits but, like many of its supergero bretheren, T&J leans heavily on fairly tightly defined book-given power sets which, if you’re doing traditional four-colour comics, can suffice — but that’s not what we’re talking about here. I can’t even use my usual go-to game system, Capes, in here. Oh, you could do what I’m calling Planet Fucking Crazy games in Capes, but it, too, tends to lean a little heavily toward pre-imagined Traits as the character defining mechanism, but with Capes comes a strangely unexpected problem. Character differentiation within a niche is difficult! Putting together, say, a group of mutant-hunting cops who have a similar set of basic abilities (pistols, police authority, cruisers) which are all usable for narrative control means there are only a few Traits that differentiate them one another. So, that’s what we can’t or shouldn’t use. Tomorrow or the next day, if inspiration returns, we’ll talk about some of the positive options: | |
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There are times that I shouldn’t be allowed to indulge in listening to music. In particular, songs that encourage me to design characters for games I’m unlikely to play, but in the off chance that other Capes players actually stumble by my blog and because I really, really need to get back into the rhythm of writing …
Edwin MaelraithLove-Struck MastermindAbilitiesPowers- 1: Minions!
- 3: Global Conspiracy
- 2: Big Bad Lieutennant of the Hour
Styles- 2: Friends in High Places
- 4: “I did it all for her/you!”
- 3: Untouchable
- 1: Voice of God
Attitudes- 5: Obsessed
- 4: Love-Struck
- 2: Driven
- 3: Resigned
- 1: Controlled
Drives- 4: Obsession
- 2: Pride
- 1: Power
- 1: Despair
- 1: Fear
BackgroundMiddle management in one of the smaller global conspiracies is actually a pretty nice gig, if you’re in your mid-twenties and fresh out of Yale with an MBA. Nice office, important work, knock off the books of a small African nation this week, organize the contacts with the insiders in Gotham’s corrupt police network the next. Almost no chance there’ll be some costumed do-gooder busting through the skylight. Edwin Maelraith was pretty comfortable at having risen to his level of incompetence thanks to the Peter Principle and a very marginal level of personal motivation. He had a number of researchers and a small office of desk drones under his purview and he saw no reason at all to work any harder for ULER. In fact, he had no idea what ULER was even supposed to stand for, and really couldn’t find much reason to care. That is, until he met Amber-Lynn Sprayberry, the daughter of one of the researchers under him. It should have been a no-brainer, right? She was beautiful, honey-blonde hair to her shoulders, funny, cute, late teens and very much interested in her father’s work. Really, he should have been a shoe-in for her to fall for, marry, and raise 2.5 kids with in a small suburban apartment with a dog and a conspiracy-mandated tap on every phone. But he just couldn’t seem to catch her eye. Part of the problem was that he was just too comfortable. In an organization filled with dashing figures with ambitions and not a little insanity, he was an accountant, a little bit of a people-person and just a touch bland. In fact, he didn’t work his way up to his place in ULER by planning a bank robbery and getting away with it, or running a small criminal group that stole a plasma-laser. He just consistently, calmly, even blandly made sure his division kept turning a neat profit, didn’t stand out too much, and kept the folks under him in the hierarchy happy. Dr. Sprayberry enjoyed working for Edwin more than any of his predecessors; not once had Edwin attempted to abscond with a piece of technical gadgetry or accidently leaned on something and blew up the lab. The budget was even balanced! Edwin tried everything he could think of to try and woo Amber-Lynn. Flowers? Nice dinners? Charming conversation? Nothing. Oh, it wasn’t that she was unkind to him; she was always unfailingly pleasant and seemed to find Edwin if not titilating, a “good friend.” Trapped in the Friend Zone, Edwin despaired. Until he saw Amber-Lynn hanging on the arm of one of his superiors in the organization at the Christmas party (with a Titanic theme) that Edwin had planned! It was at that moment the future of ULER as an organization was set. Edwin Maelraith had decided to get promoted. Do you know what happens when you give a man with solid middle management skills a burning, searing obsessive motivation to succeed for the love of a woman? In twenty years, he rises to the very top, runs the whole show with the comfortable disinterest of an expert accountant, and … he’s still a guy with an MBA from Yale who might be one of the most powerful 100 men on Earth (though he’d be the first to tell you he’s among the bottom of that list), and wears white shirts and sensible slacks. He just happens to order hits on powerful-yet-obscure people, run three small African nations, and launder the entire national income of Guam. And he’s still trying to catch Amber-Lynn’s eye and hold it.
Dr. Amber-Lynn Sprayberry(Mad?) Conspiracy ScientistObsession Exemplar for Edwin Maelraith. Issue“I need Amber-Lynn to love me, but she’s just not that into me.” Free ConflictEvent: Edwin and Amber-Lynn share an intimate moment. AbilitiesAttributes- 3: (Mad?) Science
- 2: Analyze
- 1: Research
Styles- 3: “That can’t be right!”
- 1: Examine Sample
- 2: Miss the subtext
- 4: Smile lights up the room
Attitudes- 5: Shocked
- 4: Self-Involved
- 2: Curious
- 1: Confused
- 3: Jaded
DrivesBackgroundEver since she was in high school, her father’s boss, Edwin Maelraith has been trying to take her out. Most girls would be a little put out at his increasing fixation on them, going from nice dinners and lovely movies to promises of the ownership of Australia and a ring made from the largest diamond in the world, stolen from the core of the orbiting super-laser. Truth is, Amber-Lynn enjoys the attention and has no intention of putting Edwin off, but she’s just not that into him. Doctor Sprayberry the elder died while she was finishing up grad studies at MIT and it was a natural transition for her to take his place in ULER — scratch that, Maelstrom — in the R&D department that Maelright used to run before he started moving up. Still cute, perky, and a little bit scatter-brained in her thirties, Dr. Amber-Lynn Sprayberry only vaguely gets that she’s the reason the Maelstrom organization moves on some of its more audacious plans. But she’s flattered. And Edwin’s precious. Such a good friend.
( Lyrics of Inspiration, ) | |
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The cruel 2470’s, when uploading is considered mainstream and thus the concerns about the embodied are minimal, leading to torture-porn being Sunday night fare, more concern about the expansion of understanding with none given to physical ramifications, and the very idea that flesh is meaningful given entirely short shrift. | |
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Goofy, because he brings up the most existentional questions in the Disney pantheon. His best buddy Mickey owns a dog, Pluto. Goofy is a dog! While Donald Duck has occasionally seen mundane ducks, the level of interaction between Mickey, Pluto and Goofy is unprecedented. To add to the madness, Pluto appears a sapont, albeit limited in expressiveness. In theory and by observation, Pluto could actively consent to sexual relations. Yet, he is the pet of an only slightly more anthropogenic mouse and the friend of a marginally more anthropogenic canid whose primary superiorities appear to be bipedal walk and a particularly poor taste in clothes. And you thought Belle and the Beast’s relationship provided issue fodder. | |
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Well, assuming we’re talking about … no, wait. Can we assume anything? Is it the Zombie Apocalypse and I have to choose between intervening in the wave of flesh-eaters heading for the love of my life on one hand and the few people I actually aren’t happier seeing be a mindless undead thing on the other? In that case, I’m going the Spidey route and just saying a deadpan, “Neither” before busting out my sniper badassery, putting rounds in the noggins of whatever foul beasts have the insipidity to get in my way. Just like people, really, but less back-talk. Are we talking about some kind of social thing, where my friends oppose my taste in women? Never happen. Despite my very clear and apparent affinity for madwomen, my friends know better than to oppose the cruel and Earth-shattering power of my Will. No one wants to be ground alive not just slowly, but exceedingly fine, in the grist-house of my perversion. Or it’s just a false choice in the first place. If your SO isn’t one of your friends, “yer dooin’ it rong.” | |
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| Vancouver. Far in the frozen north lands, full of those strangely societied Canadians. And yet ... perfectly acceptable as a Squid habitat. It's walkable, which is good because folks there can't drive for shit. There's at least one decent BBQ place (merely decent, sadly). You can buy Transylvanian bread loves fresh out of the oven! Plus you can lurk on the quay-side and watch ships bring cargo in and out all day, and for some reason I find that soothing.  | |
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