News:

Forum changes: Editing of posts has been turned off until further notice.

Main Menu

[Psi-Run] Bodhisattvas of Mars

Started by Doplegager, December 19, 2007, 05:31:38 AM

Previous topic - Next topic

Doplegager

After far too long of waiting, my group had a chance to playtest Psi Run.  There are a number of Ashcan Front games I've been wanting to give a try, but Psi Run has been top of the list for awhile.

I started the session by explaining the basic premise of the game- that the characters had exceptional powers, that they were amnesiacs, and that they were on the run from some sort of organization.  I asked each player to describe what their character looked like.  The first player, Jarrod A, set the tone instantly with a militaristic cyborg.  One thing that I noted was that when we started generating questions, few of the questions actually delved into the character's unusual appearances- the fact that two of them were in futuristic military garb was taken largely for granted.  I played to match them and started the first scene off establishing the setting as a terraformed Mars during some kind of civil war.  They woke up in an overturned train car with explosive shells falling all around them outside.  Overall, it felt more like something from "Heavy Metal" than from the "Bourne Identity", but I'll count that as a strength- the game seamlessly adapted to the interests of the players.

We played the game with each roll being a scene and with players taking turns setting the stakes of the scene.  I noticed two consistencies: Every scene involved placing a 4 or 5 in the Reveal category, meaning another player narrated an answer to a character question.  Also, every scene involved placing a 5 or 6 in the Chase category, meaning the Chasers never entered play.  By the third scene, the group had all but collectively agreed that they didn't want the Chasers to even be present in any of the scenes; having a character be permanently injured was a more desirable choice (As one player put it, he almost wanted the Chasers to just be the character's unfounded paranoia).  Next session, I'll try to keep a running log of dice allocations each turn for a bit closer review. 

I also thought it was interesting that the game time was split almost half and half between scene progression and answering character questions.

Scene One: The Crash
The Set-up: The characters have just woken up in an overturned train car during a bombing.  They are amnesiac, but know that they had been secured in place, that they have some kind of connection to each other, and that this is a limited chance at escape.  It's dangerous to leave, but dangerous to stay.
The Goal: Find weaponry and an escape vehicle.  Chrome used his gravitational abilities to rip through the doors of the train cars until they found suitable weapons and a vehicle.  Chrome killed two guards in the process.
The Reveal (Chrome, Q4: Was I ever human?): No, Chrome is a mechanical manifestation of the spiritual culmination of all mankind.  He is not human; he is humanity.  (This first reveal really set the tone for the following answers and firmly locked the game into a kind of existential exercise that made the content of the reveals almost impossible to summarize in a coherent manner.  It also sent the scope skyrocketing as other players tried to compete to keep their characters from losing narrative weight.)

Scene Two: The Distance
The Set-up: The characters have traveled across a Martian desert to arrive at a rural community in search of supplies and safety.  Access is controlled by a tollbooth. 
The Goal: Gain access to the town.  Flak used his empathetic abilities to persuade the young operator to let them into the city.  It worked, but she empathized with them so much that she decided to leave her station and join them; it turns out her name was Claire, she was a senior in high school but was failing out and had been living an entirely mediocre life; deciding to abandon the tollbooth and follow the group was described as the 'first definitive decision in her life.'
The Reveal (Flak, Q1: Why is it that only my bare skin has kinesthetic sense?): Flak was a former terrorist who somehow had barely survived being a suicide bomber.  His body had been reconstructed, but the reconstruction was flawed.

Scene Three: A Safe House
The Set-up: The characters have gained access to the small town, but realize that their garb makes them conspicuous.  Considering that they've been trying to hide, they decide to try to find a safe place to lay low.
The Goal: Gain access to a safe place in the outskirts of the town to gain supplies avoid attracting attention.  This was the first scene where a Goal was failed.  Claire ended up guiding the party through the edges of town, leading them to her grandfather's house.  When the party arrived, both Claire's father and grandfather were in the house.  The grandfather was willing to let the party stay in his barn, but the father was going to report the 'rebels' to the authorities.  Overwhelmed with a desire to please Steam, the grandfather shot the father.
The Reveal (Steam, Q3: Where did I learn to be so sexy?): Steam was the culmination of the work of a secret cult that had spent millennia trying to genetically engineer spiritually and physically superior concubines; her natural sex appeal was in part a result of both that engineering and the training she'd been given so that she'd function as a kind of diplomatic 'gift'.

Scene Four: The Black Out
The Set-up: Neighbors have just seen the grandfather shoot the father in the back.  Even though the Chasers haven't even entered the story yet, regular authorities will be at the scene soon, making it a place the party doesn't want to be.
The Goal: Give the group extra time, make the neighborhood temporarily safe.  Feeling a blip of panic in the neighbors, Chrome instinctively used his powers.  This is where the scope became an issue; Chrome used his powers over gravity to collapse the neighborhood into a marble-sized singularity, killing everyone except the party, Claire, the grandfather, and the previously unmentioned grandfather's dog.
The Reveal (Chrome, Q1: Why am I so protective of my friends?): Chrome's original Artificial Intelligence was designed as a pacifist diplomat and tried to avoid harming anyone.  Upon reaching enlightenment, he realized that all living beings were a part of a greater whole and that, since one was incapable of defending the greater whole, one had no choice but to embrace ones own subjectivity and define a microcosm that was worth defending; that the greater whole was unaffected by the life and death of its components, but that one's microcosm was- and so protecting one's friends at the expense of others was justifiable.

Scene Five: Enlightenment
The Set-up: The extreme nature of Chrome's action completely dazed the surrounding neighborhoods, giving the party a chance to escape in the confusion.  Having a chance to breath (the strange occurrence would likely be blamed on a bomb of some sort, or other powerful weapon), the group decided to go after the rebel terrorists that Flak used to be a member of.
The Goal: To find a large group of sympathetic psychics to work with; to find an army.  Flak went deep into this one and tried to match the scope of Chrome's previous manifestation of psychic power.  He ended up taking a permanent injury in order to maximize his psychic power.  In trying to find other psychics, he used his empathetic abilities so much that his skin began sloughing off (the potency of the ability was connected with his skin).  As a result, a large area of the town not only became sympathetic to the characters, but suffered from a kind of spiritual inversion that awoke their psychic potential; instead of finding a group of sympathetic psychics, he effectively created one.
The Reveal (Flak, Q4: Why am I affected by the emotional states of the people around me?): Flak's near death experience exposed him to the spiritual forces that underly human existence, effectively making him a medium for emotional states.  This allows him to influence the emotions of others, but also allows others to influence his emotions.

At this point, we reached the latest we could let the game run- work in the morning and such- so we didn't get to the sixth scene.  It sounds like there's enough interest to finish it up at our next gaming session, though, so we'll see how it goes from there.  I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on scope, but considering the philosophical magnitude introduced early on, and the overpowered "Heavy Metal" feel most of the session had, it didn't seem too problematic.

In general, the mechanics were smooth and elegant.  There were one or two system complaints, but I'm thinking that it's mostly because the players largely had high rolls and so they didn't have to make very many difficult mechanical decisions.  We spent most of the post game discussion talking about how versatile the system's core was and how well it worked, especially about the idea of dice being used as a creativity restraint instead of randomized conflict resolution (I figure the difference between the two is mostly just a difference in paradigm, but an important difference nonetheless).  Absolutely glowing reviews; I can easily imagine the game becoming a staple for the group.

The Characters:
(As a side note, the rules encourage players to write down 2-3 questions, with endgame being triggered when a player answers all 6 questions, but I couldn't find a reference to how you add questions.  I figured it was on the fly, as appropriate- a way of adding information mid-game.  The group consensus was to ask the first three questions about their own character, and then ask one question about each other's characters.  After the game, I realized the rule for adding new questions was on the category sheet.  Our method made characters less flexible during gameplay, and has sped up the endgame, but made the players seem engaged in each others characters.  I'd probably run it straight by the rules next time, but I'm not at all displeased with the result of the approach we used.)

Chrome, a chrome-plated killing machine wearing a riot helmet with silver kevlar weave skin, chrome carbon pants, and a platinum platemail t-shirt.
Q1: Why am I so protective of my friends?
Q2: Why does gravity work so differently for me?
Q3: How did my body comic to be a giant gravity drive?
Q4: Was I ever human?
Q5: Why does everyone come to me to die?
Q6: Why do I always have a tactical advantage?

Flak, a.k.a. The Balls, a man in a cybernetic, armored suit that's filled with shrapnel.  Only his forehead and hands had exposed flesh (might have been a few other exposed body parts- can't remember).
Q1: Why is it that only my bare skin has kinesthetic sense?  (close your eyes- you can 'feel' where your knee is.  Flak can't.)
Q2: Why is it that the more wrinkles the Balls has, the more entities he can incite empathy with?
Q3: Why is it that those who know the Balls cannot hurt him?
Q4: Why am I affected by the emotional states of the people around me?
Q5: Why is the man in the red suit never outside my field of vision?
Q6: Why am I so clumsy?

Steam, a woman with long white hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes wearing lingerie and with a neck tattoo.  She constantly has steam rolling off her skin.
Q1: Why is my skin so pale?
Q2: Why do I have a tattoo on my neck?
Q3: Where did I learn to be so sexy?
Q4: Why can people not speak poorly of me?
Q5: Where is my suit? (By this point, it was established that the other two characters had militaristic backgrounds and suits, so the absence of a suit was intriguing.)
Q6: Why does steam roll off my skin?
"Never trust a cartoonist who has disappeared.  Cartooning is a way of life.  Odds are, when a cartoonist disappears, they are cooking up some sort of new project."

Larry L.

Hi "Doplegager",

Psi Run was not previously on my radar. But this sounds like an extremely cool game. Thanks for sharing.

Also, the phrase "Bodhisattvas of Mars" is, to me at least, an enormous neon sign which screams "Behold, Awesome!"


chris_moore

Thanks so much for the feedback!

You're now entitled to receive some free and nifty Psi Run buttons / game markers for posting a report!  PM me if you're interested.  I'm going to read your post in detail, and I'll have more to say in a few.

Thanks again,

Chris Moore
Iowa Indie Gamers!

chris_moore

Quoteas other players tried to compete to keep their characters from losing narrative weight.)

This is a wonderful point that needs to be emphasized in the final version of the game.  The character that has all their questions answered is the main character of the story. 

How many times did you roll the dice in one scene?

How did people handle narrative control ("first say")?  Did it make sense in the game text?

Can't wait to hear more,

Chris

Iowa Indie Gamers!

chris_moore

QuoteWe spent most of the post game discussion talking about how versatile the system's core was and how well it worked, especially about the idea of dice being used as a creativity restraint instead of randomized conflict resolution

All hail Vincent Baker's jOtherkind dice mechanic, of which Psi Run's is a near clone.

Iowa Indie Gamers!

Doplegager

Quote from: chris_moore on December 19, 2007, 12:58:07 PM
How many times did you roll the dice in one scene?
We rolled dice about once per scene.  Basically, the formula that worked best for us was: I would frame a scene, one of the players would state a goal, that player would roll the dice and distribute them (and take the consequences of the distribution).  Then I would frame the next scene, the next player would state a goal, and so on.  It wasn't originally intended, but each player took their turns in a row: Jarrod, Alex, Jenni, Jarrod, Alex... if we had done a sixth scene, it would've most likely been Jenni again.

At first I was planning on having more rolls per scene, as individual players did things, but after the first roll or so, it became pretty clear that we were Reveal-happy.  Having more than one opportunity for a Reveal per scene would've slid so far into the Reveals that the action would've been completely lost.  In retrospect, I think this might have been a rules drift on our part, but the mechanics worked so naturally for scene-based resolution that we slid into it seamlessly and didn't notice because it was still working well.  Maybe it's a mixed blessing, maybe a mixed curse- depends on how important it is for the game to be task or scene based.

On the downside, I'm guessing that the one roll per scene also made the Chasers much less threatening: they had far fewer opportunities to advance and much wider ground to cover.  With the Chasers becoming increasingly impotent, the players seem less and less like they're running.  Even if every roll of next session involved putting a 1 or 2 in the Chase category, it'd take 4 or 5 scenes (3 scenes for the current lead, 2 scenes for the 3 new scenes) for the Chasers to catch up with the party.  The last session had character creation and six scenes.  I'm guessing the next will have nine to twelve scenes.  At this point, for my group, it'd take at least 1/3 to 1/2 of a full session for the Chasers to catch up- assuming the players were actively working towards it.

Also, I was wondering if there was any mechanical repercussions of having the Chasers show up?  It seems like they should have some more oomph to back up their weight in the story.  Chris, I'm actually reminded of some of the stuff you'd been talking about when doing a Categories-based take on Sorcerer: what if the GM was able to roll dice, which would then being placed to make the character's lives more difficult?  As in, they could potentially show up in any scene, but their ability to have an impact was determined by how 'close' they were to the players?  Or, the closer they were to the players, the fewer dice the characters could roll (pretty harsh after the bonus die is removed).  Or removing the Chase category from the scenes, and have it be something like 5-6: Chasers aren't in the next scene at all, 3-4: The next scene has hints of the Chasers, 1-2: the Chasers are directly involved with the next scene.

Quote from: chris_moore on December 19, 2007, 12:58:07 PM
How did people handle narrative control ("first say")?  Did it make sense in the game text?
Narrative control usually ended up being determined more by social contract than anything else.  First say mostly entered the equation when nobody was sure where to start.

That said, there was one hiccup that wasn't too much of a problem for us, but that might be worth watching out for; how to handle multiple people having first say over different aspects.  For example, say a character succeeds at the goal and uses their psi powers.  The player has first say over how they succeed, but the GM has first say over how the psi worked.  If the psi ability was instrumental in making the effort a success, it becomes a chicken or the egg question; one part can't be described without the other, so one player might easily infringe on the 'first say' territory of another. They may have first say over different aspects, but the distinction between the aspects falls apart.

In play, this mostly worked out as someone offering a snippet; "I'm picturing the use of your gravitational powers doing something like this..." or "I want to succeed by somehow having this happen..."  First say seemed more like a suggestion to get the ball rolling if things stalled than a strict rule.

Quote from: chris_moore on December 19, 2007, 12:58:07 PM
This is a wonderful point that needs to be emphasized in the final version of the game.  The character that has all their questions answered is the main character of the story. 
Hmm.  I don't think that'd work too well for this group.  Basically, every roll has resulted in a Reveal, meaning there are two ways to become the main character: have more rolls, roll first, or start out with more questions (i.e. using the rules as they are, a character starting with 2 questions needs 4 reveals to unveil the additional questions and 6 reveals to unveil all the answers; a character with 3 questions needs 3 reveals to unveil additional questions and 6 reveals to unveil all the answers). 

If rolling more than the other players is encouraged, a lot of the teamwork that the rules encourage- especially in sharing creative control- is overshadowed by rewarding a character for hogging the spotlight.  In the case of my group, where everyone has been getting an equivalent number of rolls, it means that the first player to roll is the main character because they'll beat everyone else by 1 answer- making the main character a very arbitrary choice.  If I were going to restructure the Reveal category to accomplish that affect with my group, I'd probably do something like 5-6: Character has a memory that answers one of her questions, 1-4: Character has no memory, or maybe 5-6: Character gain an answer, 3-4: Character gains a question, 1-2: character has no memory.

As an anecdote, one of the players, Jenni, is often frustrated with our games in that she's overshadowed by much louder and pushier players.  She had to leave immediately after the game, so I haven't had much of a post-game discussion with her, but I noticed that she was more engaged in this game than any other so far.  She made more contributions, and the contributions had a bigger effect on gameplay.  I think this is aided by the way the group has been doing scenes- i.e. everyone gets a turn in a specific order- but, I think it also has a lot to do with the first say, the shared creative control, and how the categories affected the gameplay.

Hmm.  Please bear in mind that all of the examples I give are with the context of my group in mind and are based on one session of play.  I'm not sure if any ideas mentioned would be for the better or worse for other groups; feel free to use or disabuse at your leisure :-p
"Never trust a cartoonist who has disappeared.  Cartooning is a way of life.  Odds are, when a cartoonist disappears, they are cooking up some sort of new project."