Gaming - The Baron, Wrap
Finished another character tonight. Baron Leander. I've decided I'm going to keep track of that, because I've found it's actually a pretty reliable way to improve my time sense, which is shit. "Who was I playing?"
Sargon and I game together a lot. We will shred through about a novel or movie's worth of plot, wrap, and move to the next character in a couple of months. I don't know how often, maybe five or six times a year, me more often than him because I am slow with ideas, about which I often feel guilty.
Some characters just go on their way, but some stick around, bumping shoulders, bantering, sometimes arguing, as they pass through. (See: The Bar of Lost Souls.)
I can never tell who is going to stick. I've played through intense and amazing adventures with awesome characters that I never got the urge to play again, and sometimes even trivial NPCs wind up impossible to shake. You can stack the odds to try to get this to happen, I have a formula that will work on me pretty reliably, but it requires a perfect alignment of character, setting, and player and GM involvement. If these things are all properly linked up, you get a character that clicks. If the balance isn't quite right, you sometimes get a character that just doesn't work out, which is acutely embarrassing.
I sometimes find myself deeply connected to characters I did not expect I would care about that much, which is awesome. Sometimes I connect to a character with no sequel potential, which can suck righteously. And sometimes, characters have thought processes, desires, goals, that are not like mine at all, which is weird. It's generally nice to have these perspectives around, but there are times when it sort of freaks me out to have their feelings rattling around in my head . . . which is why it will be nice to take a break from the Baron for a while.
I've had characters who have kids, want kids, and like kids, but I have never had a character who adores small children and little babies and wants another one right now.* Who is, in fact, ecstatic that his mistress is pregnant. This . . . feature . . . is a product of his cultural values, backstory, and personality; it's unshakeable, and it's incredibly weird because I am not like that at all.
The Baron loves his family. He loves being a dad, it means more than anything to him, even stabbing people in the neck, and he desperately wants a chance to do it again. This wouldn't bother me except that he's a particularly thoughtful character, and he pokes at the idea a lot.
And then he goes off and spends all night being a terrifyingly efficient sneaky death machine, which gives him - and therefore me - a euphoric feeling that lasts for a good couple of days. When he is out murdering people who never even see him coming, I feel a lot better because at least I understand wanting to stab people in the face. I have had the urge to kill annoying people many, many times, and yet have never had the urge to make babies.
Usually when a character really grabs me, it is because I have subconsciously identified something about them that is helpful, and my brain is sneakily using the character to get me in the right headspace to work on IRL issues.
I'm going to assume it has something to do with responsibility, unflappability, quick thinking, mental flexibility, generosity, persistence, or the ability to be a bad guy but a good man. Not the baby thing or the stabbing thing.
I don't know if he'll become a permanent addition to the daimōnes in the Bar of Lost Souls. Characters from second-world fantasy almost never stick because the segregation between settings in my mind easily allows for time travel but has trouble with dimension hopping. Anyway, if he stayed, it would put him in a tiny minority, and I haven't seen the last guy since he wrote me a Dear Jane letter, grabbed his hat, and took off for parts unknown.
I will have to wait and see, though I suspect "buy one for the Baron" is going to become bar tradition.
Right now, writing, then sleep.
* No, strike that. I've had a character who was keen on offspring before, but that was long, long ago, and despite having, like, a million babies, I don't recall him being this bad.
Sargon and I game together a lot. We will shred through about a novel or movie's worth of plot, wrap, and move to the next character in a couple of months. I don't know how often, maybe five or six times a year, me more often than him because I am slow with ideas, about which I often feel guilty.
Some characters just go on their way, but some stick around, bumping shoulders, bantering, sometimes arguing, as they pass through. (See: The Bar of Lost Souls.)
I can never tell who is going to stick. I've played through intense and amazing adventures with awesome characters that I never got the urge to play again, and sometimes even trivial NPCs wind up impossible to shake. You can stack the odds to try to get this to happen, I have a formula that will work on me pretty reliably, but it requires a perfect alignment of character, setting, and player and GM involvement. If these things are all properly linked up, you get a character that clicks. If the balance isn't quite right, you sometimes get a character that just doesn't work out, which is acutely embarrassing.
I sometimes find myself deeply connected to characters I did not expect I would care about that much, which is awesome. Sometimes I connect to a character with no sequel potential, which can suck righteously. And sometimes, characters have thought processes, desires, goals, that are not like mine at all, which is weird. It's generally nice to have these perspectives around, but there are times when it sort of freaks me out to have their feelings rattling around in my head . . . which is why it will be nice to take a break from the Baron for a while.
I've had characters who have kids, want kids, and like kids, but I have never had a character who adores small children and little babies and wants another one right now.* Who is, in fact, ecstatic that his mistress is pregnant. This . . . feature . . . is a product of his cultural values, backstory, and personality; it's unshakeable, and it's incredibly weird because I am not like that at all.
The Baron loves his family. He loves being a dad, it means more than anything to him, even stabbing people in the neck, and he desperately wants a chance to do it again. This wouldn't bother me except that he's a particularly thoughtful character, and he pokes at the idea a lot.
And then he goes off and spends all night being a terrifyingly efficient sneaky death machine, which gives him - and therefore me - a euphoric feeling that lasts for a good couple of days. When he is out murdering people who never even see him coming, I feel a lot better because at least I understand wanting to stab people in the face. I have had the urge to kill annoying people many, many times, and yet have never had the urge to make babies.
Usually when a character really grabs me, it is because I have subconsciously identified something about them that is helpful, and my brain is sneakily using the character to get me in the right headspace to work on IRL issues.
I'm going to assume it has something to do with responsibility, unflappability, quick thinking, mental flexibility, generosity, persistence, or the ability to be a bad guy but a good man. Not the baby thing or the stabbing thing.
I don't know if he'll become a permanent addition to the daimōnes in the Bar of Lost Souls. Characters from second-world fantasy almost never stick because the segregation between settings in my mind easily allows for time travel but has trouble with dimension hopping. Anyway, if he stayed, it would put him in a tiny minority, and I haven't seen the last guy since he wrote me a Dear Jane letter, grabbed his hat, and took off for parts unknown.
I will have to wait and see, though I suspect "buy one for the Baron" is going to become bar tradition.
Right now, writing, then sleep.
* No, strike that. I've had a character who was keen on offspring before, but that was long, long ago, and despite having, like, a million babies, I don't recall him being this bad.