Storytelling and creative satisfaction

The last time I was actively involved in a role-playing game was, I believe, in the latter part of 2004. As was always the case, I ran the whole thing as the storyteller and, if I can recall correctly, Bobito, Ty, and his roommate Dave were the players. It was a Vampire: the Requiem chronicle that took place in Baltimore and followed the players from the founding of the city until the modern nights. The more I think about it, there was a whole Masquerade-to-Requiem transition that occurred during the chronicle which required some reworking of things (like the characters themselves), but overall it was fun for all of us. Ultimately, however, things just petered out. Bobito was heading back to Spain, I was spending more and more time both physically and mentally with my new girlfriend, and Ty and Dave were finding it hard to make the drive every week.

Actually, now that I think of it, I may have run another short chronicle or two after that, with Doug as the only player. Solo tales were the most intimate in terms of character and depth of plot and we were able to run a nearly book-less game, with most of the “creatures of the night” being my own creations that challenged the traditional and World of Darkness conceptions. Not a lot of dice were rolled and most of the sessions ended-up being mostly conversation; conversations that did not entirely cease with the end of the formal session. Doug and I would head up to the roof of my building (I didn’t let him smoke in my place) and we’d gaze out over the Washington, DC skyline discussing the shadowy world of the supernatural and the horrorible. We had actually been doing this for years, but our discussions did become more personal, more informed, and more “real” as the years passed and our knowledge of both the fantastic as well as the ordinary grew. Whatever we saw in reality we could imagine its darker, unreal aspect that only we understood. Honestly, it was kinda cool just letting our imaginations run free like that, mixing conspiracy, politics, real news, personal experiences, and fantasies together in a hodge-podge realm of the mind that was tremendously alluring despite its dark and dangerous elements. This was the whole point of gaming for me, not the dice or mechanics or achievements of the characters, but the realm of the imagination made almost real.

My gaming did not cease merely because others did not have the time, availability or interest. I too grew tired, partly of the World of Darkness, which, despite its possibility, still retained many aspects that ultimately felt “done” to me. My favorite chronicles were those that threw the rulebooks away and let pure imagination run free. I was also tired of some of the players, not as friends, but as character types. Personalities will eventually rub each other wrong and one can only take so much of the same kind of behavior after a while. Having every character played by a certain person—whether a young lad, a mad scientist, an FBI agent, or whatever—always act in a similar fashion (a sexy flirt, a lunatic, etc.) got dull. I suppose this could be put down as a failure of the acting skills of some of the players, but honestly, the whole point is for them to enjoy themselves as much as me, so if that’s what floated their boats, who am I to put a stop to it? Still, it all kind of added up and I eventually let the dice rest and the World of Darkness and all its wondrous creepiness slowly faded from the forefront of my mind.

For a while my new girlfriend, a newfound focus on my artwork, and a growing interest in my day job satisfactorily made up for the lack of my game storytelling. When the urge to create became strong enough I used these as my outlets, along with occasionally still writing a few things for White Wolf on a freelance basis. My girlfriend had a similar “dark side” to my own and was similarly artistic, so my need to produce or illustrate the shadowy visions that I summoned up in my imagination were able to be shared with her; I didn’t need to share it with my old gaming buddies. That relationship did not last forever, however, and when I no longer had someone to share these things with, I put more energy into art and writing.

No matter how much I wrote or how many wild visions I conjured up with Photoshop or more traditional art supplies, there is an aspect of role-playing that was missing: the interaction. It is one thing to write a great story, it is quite another to write one that is incomplete without the contributions of others, people who desperately want to be part of the story and want to breathe life into it. I began to realize that I craved this interaction, in-part because it makes my work so much more than I could make it, and in-part because it gives instant feedback. My players were part of the stories I told, without which my stories were merely plotlines and plans. It was their contributions that made it fun and truly satisfying.

This is the crux of the biscuit, as Frank Zappa once said. It was the inability to create anything I wanted, the fact that I was constrained by the necessary inclusion of the players’ input, that pushed me to be truly creative; and, what’s more, to find pleasure in the experience.

For me, it is the limitations and rules which push me to be more creative and more successful. Given no limits I am too likely to run rampant and to forget the forest for the trees. What I mean is that without strictures on my creativity, without it being a challenge, the joy in creating dissipates. I need limitations, not on what I can imagine, but on what form it must take. Players provide that limitation, along with the mechanics of a traditional role-playing game. Sure, I might fudge the dice results all night long, but I don’t do it to cheat; I do it to nudge things along the path that will be most satisfying for myself and the players. I don’t want a singel dice roll to ruin a great story. On the other hand, the mechanics do put a mental limitation on me. They ensure that my tale is balanced, that it makes sense, that there is ultimately some kind of creative accountability. Similarly, the players keep me from just doing anything. I gear the chronicle to the players and their characters. This ensures that, again, I stay on-track and that the tales I am telling are ones that the players will find enjoyable as well as myself.

Graphic designers, freelance writers, commercial musicians, and many other creative types experience two kinds of creative satisfaction. The first is simply taking the ideas and thoughts and music and visions “inside” and bringing them out into the world in some form, whether through a poem, a painting, a song, or even a building design. All artists are driven to create and need to have one or more outlets. Getting all this stuff out into the open, even if kept private, is necessary. This is akin to a powerful release, an artistic orgasm as it were. The pleasure is derived from pulling out all this stuff inside and giving it some form. Once that is done, the creator can find a calm again; the thing that needed to come out has come out and all is good with the world again.

But there is the other kind of pleasure that creative types also need to experience. Call it the artistic challenge. While the former pleasure derives from opening one’s self and permitting the art inside to come out, this latter pleasure is derived from solving a creative problem, one the artist is uniquely gifted at solving, but which still remains difficult. Just as mathematicians can become enjoyably obsessed with solving a certain difficult equation, so artists can become equally enjoyably obsessed with solving a certain creative dilemma.

Role playing offers these kind of creative challenges without parallel. Or, to be more precise, interactive storytelling does. I may plan a story, but how it turns out will depend just as much on what the various players decide their characters will do from one minute to the next, and on the luck of the dice. The challenge becomes how to honor both the desires of the players and the luck of the dice and still make sure that the story as originally envisioned will largely come to pass; or to make sure that even if it goes completely off the planned path, it still comes to an enjoyable and memorable conclusion. Believe me, this is not easy, but for someone who loves to tell a tale, few things can be more satisfying.

And so I am thinking about gaming again. I have a busy life, with a move this weekend, a new job promotion, more and more bills and finances to stay on top of, a busy social life to manage, and all the other things in life, but more and more I miss the creative challenge of interactive storytelling. I can and do still create art and “get out” some of the creative stuff inside, but I crave the challenge that role-playing offered me.

I’m not sure if I will wade again into the World of Darkness, these many years later; it was me who was tapped by White Wolf to officially end the 13-year run of Vampire: the Masquerade with my “Wormwood” tale, but still there is a sweet something that whispers to me from the World of Darkness and continues to try and seduce me back again. I could just create my own realm from scratch; it wouldn’t be the first time, but I’m honestly not sure if I have the time to do it and actually enjoy it given all my other obligations. I don’t know. But one way or other, I wish to experience again the pleasure of storytelling on a dark and stormy night with some good friends and some very disturbing and terrifying tales.

Monster of the month

It is very clear that they are more than a bit familiar with the World of Darkness—in fact, the first thought I had when picking up the Vampire calendar was that it might feature one of my own dark offspring, like the Bohagande or The Carnival, which would have been kinda cool—and I hope they don’t just try and cop too much from it in order to sell a calendar or two.

The Blood

Her eyes glowed like a cat about to eat the canary, her lips quivered and her nostrils flared in anticipation of what he was about to give her. Even as she sat her posture was that of an animal, a sleek, lethal panther waiting for the moment when it would be permitted to strike and take its bloody fill.

Bloodlines: The Legendary (Gulikan)

What his clients did not recognize until too late was that the numerous pomanders, oils, balms, soaps, powders, and perfumes produced did not actually enhance the seductive power of the wearer, but rather extended the range and insidiousness of Eumathius’ own supernatural irresistibility. Unlike other Kindred, the potency of his own Vitae was not only able to be conveyed by consumption, but also to an attenuated degree by mere inhalation.

Bloodlines: The Legendary (The Carnival)

In those brief moments before Hagal turned on her, she came to a simple yet fortifying conclusion. God had cursed her for the sins of her parents and had abandoned her to Hell. Now, the Devil had come to ease her suffering and offer her his own brand of salvation. Her darkest prayers had been answered.

VII (The Betrayed)

Twice, they arrived only hours too late to catch their prey, but the wise king began to learn more and more about the creature he hunted with every close encounter. He no longer believed it was actually the Devil he was after, but rather an upyr, a particularly vicious vampire forced to sleep by day and stalk its victims by night.

Gehenna (Wormwood)

Sometimes, God did intercede to strike down the truly wicked or to offer salvation to those most worthy, but he could not break his Covenant; he could never again cleanse the Earth of its sins and sinners to start anew. Caine’s progeny knew this and howled their delight, having no fear of divine retribution. That was their greatest mistake.

Succubus Club: Dead Man’s Party

My own domitor has oft-repeated a maxim about his kind that goes to the heart of the matter: the only Kindred you will meet are those that wish to be met. The Kindred are loners, but because of their unique predicament and their necessary removal from human society they find themselves driven time and time again to seek each other out and share each other’s company.