A character who is either stupid or willfully obtuse. Dealing with a lurch is no different than dealing with any other difficult character. Some might scream at a lurch, some may ignore a lurch while others just love their lurch. Today’s filler open thread: who is your lurch and how do you rp with them?

I’m going to be honest: I don’t get people who feel the need to come after or condescend RPers. For the past two days, the Breakfast Topic at WoW Insider has attempted to start a conversation about RP: What we do, how we do it, what mechanics we follow and why we follow those and not others. I get it. Mr. Ross has questions about the hobby we talk about here regularly. Yesterday, Falconesse answered a few concerns.

Today it’s my turn.

First and foremost, I need to help clarify something: Dr. Who’s Police Box is a Tardis: Time And Relative Dimension in Space. It’s like a time travelling bag of holding that’s stuck in the shape of UK Police Box circa 1963. The 11th doctor explains that to Amy Pond in the above video clip.

Now that we are all set on the Doctor, let’s come back to Azeroth.

Dealing with the Sandbox that WoW provides is pretty consistent topic here at WTTRP. Some mechanics we incorporate easily: Anything magical or ‘engineery” is quickly imported into RP. Some, like rezes, require a little finesse. Some are flat out ignored by specific rp circles but others are full embraced. Levels are an example of this particular mechanic. I’ve seen it used a “seasons” or “campaigns” while most of the RPers I associate with it don’t use it all that often.

When we queue for a random–what some of us call ‘taking a job’–we don’t typically start RPing while we’re healing, dpsing or tanking. RPers want to enjoy the content just like every other player of the game. Random BGs are in a similar vein: Although, to be perfectly frank, when people do trash talk RP or Feathermoon, some of us do become more vocal…but that’s a future post.

What matters most to RPers–as much as lore and content–is the story they are telling. RPers have an idea that they want to carry out their way. Sometimes they find the right circle, sometimes they don’t. But they try to tell a story set in someone else’s world. They pay their $15 a month to let their story play out. Blizzard probably will not allow player-created content in WoW, which means the stories told by RPers will be the closest our hobby gets that form of content. It may not work for everyone, but given the population of the WoW, it will probably work for someone.

Questions about RP, how to RP, how to integrate Mechanics of WoW into RP are all fair questions. These are questions that can be easily answered by playing on an RP realm or hanging out with RPers. My question to Mr. Ross is this: Do you really care?

Honestly, these questions could have been addressed by reading a few articles on WoW Insider, WTTRP or any other RP blog. Framing the questions with “I don’t get it” comes across as condescending at best. There is enough griefing on RP Servers, we don’t need to start this conversation the same way WorgenFreeman starts to bash an RP event.

So Mr. Ross, if you’re sincere, you’re welcome to come to Tuesday night at the Pig and Whistle. Anyone else have questions about RP, we’ll be here till they turn the servers off.

Zeve and Taeli are two of the newest RPers to join the WFR crew.  Zeve’s a pirate and he has still managed to stick it out with the likes of Bricu, Tarquin and Ulthanon.  He also hates dog jokesa

Lidia Carraway had been his first and was the only one to surprise him. She hadn’t smiled when she’d singled him out for a dance, and she hadn’t smiled when she’d lured him into a stockroom and laid him on a bed of treated lumber. She’d undressed him just enough, herself barely at all, and had looked as proper when she left as when she’d entered ten minutes before. The memory was as much of splinters in his back and the smell of processed wood as it was of the pleasure she’d drawn out of him. When he’d next seen Lidia at a dinner party and his fellows had seen her look away from him as though he was a disliked acquaintance, they’d exchanged the shit-eating smirks they’d seen from their older peers on so many occasions. It well masked the lying, unsteady confidence of a boy who’d been thrust into manhood too soon.

A Bloodsail bastard had been his first, nameless and not likely to be missed by anyone. The man had been condemned by a gunshot to the stomach and offered as part of an ultimatum: “If you let him die, I will kill you.” Had their positions been reversed, the pirate would have gladly cut him down without a thought, but Zeve’s hands had shaken as he delivered mercy to the dying man. He’d wondered what made him more of a coward: being afraid of killing or being afraid of dying. Weeks had passed before he’d stopped apologizing to the pirate’s pale, dirty face in his dreams. Years had passed before the face and the question had become equally blurred and meaningless.

His father had been his first; Dourian Bosch had wanted to make a son in his own image. Zevedron had been a protege first, a representative of the family second, and a valued son only when he’d merited acclaim for his house. The standard of all things had been propriety. The goal had always been quantifiable success, and to that end Zevedron had been afforded the education and experience to realize his father’s expectations. Unfortunately, he’d discovered that the world outside the manor contained booze, barn dances, and pretty things in petticoats. The only time the Lord Bosch had deigned to touch the boy had been when he had cut his losses and discarded his failed creation with a slap that drew blood and a literal kick to the gutters. The thought always brought a humorless smile to Zeve’s face: so much for proper.

Fells had been his finest. How could she not be? She’d picked him up from the floor of the Pig, held his head over the canals while he retched up three nights’ worth of drink, and had done him the kindness of not pushing him in afterward. That kindness had drawn him to her, compelled him to become better for her, even if at the time it had seemed like part of an effort to win a simple bet. His upbringing had dictated that he seek out certain traits in a woman: culture, propriety, and sensibility. Fells was none of those things, yet that was precisely why he wanted her. When they had first been together, the world could have slipped into the Maelstrom for all he’d cared. After, when she slept and he’d traced out words on her shoulder, he’d marvelled at how quickly she and the family she’d given him had become the center of his life.

A bandit named Jack Slade had been his finest. There had been nothing particularly fine about Jack Slade, or even outstanding–he’d merely chosen the wrong mark at the wrong time. The signet ring Zeve wore was like a beacon to Slade, drawing him to the Gilnean in the hopes of easy riches. What Slade didn’t know was that his mark had only recently been cursed–that his mark was unable to control the transformation from man to monster. Zeve couldn’t remember if the bandit had screamed. When he came back to himself in the small, gore-covered Old Town alleyway, he was gripped by a wicked realization: he was satiated.

Edward Vane had been his finest, if not his worst. Gilneas had given Zeve to the sea, and the sea had given him to Vane, captain of the Black Card. Vane commanded with dispassionate pragmatism: learn or be killed, work or be killed, kill or be killed. Zeve might have boarded as an arrogant noble’s son but the impudence of youth, like the flesh of crewman in need of ‘discipline’, was an unnecessary nuisance to be stripped away. It was Vane who had shown Zeve the weight of taking a life and taught him the meaning of death. When pushed to a breaking point, Zeve respectfully resigned by way of crippling the Card and stealing a longboat’s haul of plunder. At least this time he’d left home of his own volition.

Shad was his last. Shad who had been “Ears,” and became “Haemon,” and was now “mate.” Shad who, when Zeve first asked him to kiss him like he really meant it, had done so gently and with hesitation only to make sure that Zeve was as comfortable as he could be. Zeve didn’t consider himself sly–if asked, he could explain in great detail the things he appreciated about the fairer sex. Still, he could say that he loved Shad and mean it. In order to make sure that their family–their ‘us’–was happy, they had needed to bond with each other. At some point the need had become a want without either of them realizing it.

Someone who had deserved to die was his last. A cultist of some sort meaning to end the world or some such nonsense. Zeve was at peace with the idea that killing was a part of the world–being human had taught him that. Becoming a worgen simply allowed him to kill more efficiently. His last had been preceded very shortly by three or four others just as insane and in need of putting down; there was no shortage of lunatics in the world, but at least a few of them had been dispatched. If Zeve had any say in it, his last would not be the last.

The Riders were his last. Perhaps Tarquin, the master puppeteer or Bricu, the foul-mouthed heart were his superiors, but the Riders were truly his last: men and women from the highest to lowest circles who came together in an equal mixture of Improper and Right. They had accepted him for who and what he was long before he himself had. It’d made settling into their ranks easy, if not natural. The purpose they offered him made the Riders friends and comrades. The freedom they offered him made them family.

This is a refrain that has been going on since before the original Naxx dropped all those years ago, and it was a ridiculous refrain even then.  Just because you cannot find the RP doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.  To be fair, sometimes it may seem that there is a dearth of RP…so here are five quick ways to bring it back:

1)  Plan an event.  

That’s right.  You see the dearth, you plan the event.  Pick a day that people are going to be online and have a party.  Run a pub crawl.  Host a dueling tournament.  Host a back room poker game that is busted up by Stormwind Watch Officers.  The point is that since you see the problem, try and fix it.

2) Slow Walk

Slow walk through the capital of your choice.  Visit the places that should be active for RP.  Talk to people.  Ask for directions.  Buy people a round of drinks because you just had the windfall of a lifetime.  In short, reach out to the community of your faction by interacting with your faction.

Be ready to /ignore the people who want to give you a hard time.  Personally, I don’t think that will be a huge problem, but it is better to be safe than sorry.

3)  Use the Content

WE’ve said it before and I’m saying it again:  Blizz has given us a huge world to play in, so play in it.  Throw together an RP raid.  Establish a target and a motive (Shaw wants this person dead, disrupt more Defias activity, Garrosh has issued an honor challenge to the person who can bring back Nefarian’s head).  Better yet, throw down with the opposite faction.  Organize a War Game.  See how many RPers you can fit into AV or Gilneas.  The reason is there, go exploit it.

4)  Visit Your Forum

A lot of RPers check their realm forums to see what is going in the server. If you want to have more RP on the sever, I’m sure someone else is going to have a similar thought.  Team up with that other person and get RPing.

5)  Search WTTRP

We have tips, tricks and tutorials on a number of ways to kick off RP or integrate yourself into established RP.  While all of them have a similar tone, “Don’t be a dick, RP with people not at people” some of them may have a particularly brilliant idea that can inspire you to do great things.

RP is out there folks.  It isn’t going to die.  It isn’t to cliquish.  You just need to find the right fit for you.

This week, we get the real deal on Shad, the official midwife of Feathermoon.

Celesse was his first. He never counted Eurydice, because no matter how she plead, promised, or punished, he always refused her that final step. No, it was the woman he chose to be his wife with whom he finally joined under the shade of a great oak on the shores of Lake Elune’ara. She was beautiful, graceful, so much the ideal woman that he’d been sure that it was love. That it was forever. He didn’t regret those six months, two of whirlwind courtship and four of everything men bemoaned when they shunned marriage. Was it any surprise that he also didn’t regret the kiss that had ruined it all?

In an occupation where these things should have been months preplanned, his first was a surprise. He’d offered some help at the start, but to be there for the terrifying, bloody end of it hadn’t been on the menu. To this day, he’d still never had one that bled as much as that first one. It had taken all his training not to run, but in the end, it was worth it. Most Riders made their way in the world by killing. He considered it a blessing that he’d found another path to take. Nerida O’Connaugh was a most satisfying first child to have to his midwifing credit.

Like most boys, he could count his father as his first. And like so many boys he was so certain that No Really, His Father Hated Him. Why else had he been such a draconian instructor? He’d once made his son sit for three days and nights in the freezing cold of Winterspring, refusing him shelter until he’d felt the pulse of a pine. Even then, he’d never been satisfied. Never once praised him. But he’d show the Dreaming bastard. He’d be twice the druid his father ever was.

There was no question that Fells was his finest. Though his mother had taught him about love, it had been Fells who taught him how, and in the flickering shadows of the waterfall that blurred the bliss of fireworks into a shimmering glow, he’d thanked her for her patience in spades. She wasn’t everything he’d ever dreamed of, but it turned out everything he’d ever dreamed of was pretty stupid, and he never could have fathomed what it was like to actually be happy with someone. She didn’t try to make him into someone he wasn’t; she transformed him effortlessly into who he was supposed to be. Even if she’d only live sixty years more, he knew they’d be the best he’d ever see.

If he had to pick just one, it would have to be Felicia that was his finest, as she demanded that she be born all of fifteen minutes before her twin. Regardless of who’d come forth first, they’d both been his greatest triumph: twins gotten on a once-barren woman thanks to his magics, and a difficult delivery for which he didn’t have to call in more competent help. She–they–were proof that he wasn’t a failure, and the best gift he could offer to the woman he loved. And during the long nights full of screaming infants, that was the thought that kept him sane.

Era was definitely his finest. After the months they’d struggled for control of the plague-ravaged body they shared, the panther would surely have felt fully justified simply slaying his captor and/or taking over entirely. Instead, he’d taught the lonely child what it meant to be a cat, and gradually helped shape him into a man. That they’d grown into equal brothers only made Shad all the more grateful that Era had endured his years of obnoxious condescension. How had he failed to see then that he’d never really been in charge at all?

His last was something of an awkward topic, at least outside of their little family. Sure, he’d been the one to propose the arrangement and insisted that all things had to be equal, but that didn’t make it any less strange to be pulling Zeve down to the mattress with him. But oh, he’d moved as slowly and gently as he would have while treating a wounded tiger, forestalling both flight and fight from both sides of the dance. Of course it wasn’t perfect; he’d have been concerned if it was. But in the end, Zeve’s words always put it best: it was Right.

Technically, his last wasn’t finished yet, but it was his most recent. Baby Boy Windwhisper (as he was presently known) would not come into the world for months yet, but he’d already made his mark. Shad didn’t get many kaldorei clients for obvious biological reasons, and those he did had always been, if not ready, then grateful for the blessing. But in so many ways, his last was also his first. Corrienda was the first to complain of being too young. She was the first for whom he’d researched the remedies taught by whores who’d disposed of unwanted baggage. And even though he hadn’t had to put them into practice for her, she was the first he had to struggle not to despise.

Tarquin was his last. The Riders pledged allegiance to the black and red, not directly to him, but all jobs and orders ultimately filtered through the Boss’s nimble fingers and trickled off his wicked tongue. Shad didn’t know him very well, but did anyone, really? He knew enough; he’d put his life in the man’s hands as both ally and adversary over the years, and his heart still beat, and that was all he needed. Really, if anything made Tarquin special, it was that: Shad didn’t need a damned thing from him other than trust.

A few weeks ago, the GM of our guild posted a story of Tarquin entitled First, Finest and Last (FFL). This brilliant piece summarizes and presents the history of Tarq in a new, vibrant way: Discussing Tarq’s first, finest and last bosses, loves and kills. It inspired dozens of similar posts. The format changes slightly for each character, but the major points remain: Who, or what, was the first, finest and last? How was this character shaped by other people?

Bricu’s isn’t finished yet. Normally this would just be an example of my slacking; however, my slacking can be your gain. If you want to write up your own FFL, you can my processes for writing Bricu’s story and apply it to your own.

I started by listing names of persons and places that matter to Bricu:

Then I looked for natural groups. For instance, Teigue, Threnn and Soli have all been romantically involved with Bricu. Aelflaed, Tundale and Uthas have managed to give Bricu some sort of a beat-down. Arthas is a particular example of where this can get sticky. Arthas was Bricu’s prince and commander, but he also put a beat down on Bricu (as well as everyone else alive in Azeroth). With a few additional names: Tarquin, Ulthanon, The Roses, the Maunts, Bricu’s groups start to firm up.

Once the name and the groups are structured, it’s easier to assign the First, Finest and Last. Aelflaed delivered a mighty fine (and well deserved) punch to the face, but was it the Finest or the Last? Looking at the other names in that group, it is clear that Aely is most recent, so for now, she’s clearly the Last.

FFL can be considered an epilogue. It might be the highlights of the RP and a way to say goodbye. I, personally, think its just a way to take stock of the character. It’s a chance to revisit what has been done and see how the RP has shaped your character. That may be what you need to get the RP flowing once more.

Share you FFLs with us. What are you going to write about? Loves, losses, fights, deaths? Something else? Share the works in progress and the completed story with us!

Yesterday we discussed a question that came from the Twitter feed. Spinning off from that discussion was yet another Twitter based question, this one from @_loug, “How do you find a race/class combo that’s right?” It’s a fair question, but it is a question that needs clarification. What do you mean by right?

If one is looking for the “best” racial bonus for a class, I would suggest heading over to Elitist Jerks and other theory crafting websites. They hash that stuff out all the time. But if you’re looking for the right Race/Class combo for your RP Concept, then you’re at the right blog.

Start with a concept*. This can be something as simple as a phrase–say “bastard Paladin” or “Elven Ranger”–to something a bit more complicated like, “Orphan of the 3rd War.” Make the concept as specific as you are comfortable with. Keep in mind that this is also the starting point. The ending point for RP comes at the end of the Character Arc, not necessarily the Story Arc. During RP, you may find your self drifting (or even running) from one concept to another. That’s completely okay. Hell, that might even be fantastic. Character development is a key factor in continuing RP.

But that is further down the character’s arc. Right now we are focusing on the start of the Arc: Who the character was before the story began. Take the concept that you have for this character and see if there is an immediate link with an established class in game. For Bastard Paladin and Elven Ranger the choices appear self-explanatory: Paladin and Hunter. But these obvious choices may not be the best choices. What if the Bastard Paladin lost the ability to use the Light? What if this was a Hunter who preferred to get close for a kill? Then the options for classes begin to expand. A paladin without the light could easily become a Warrior or even a Death Knight. A Hunter who prefers to get very close for kill could be a Rogue…maybe even a feral Druid.** In order to pick the right class, you have to figure out how your character interacts with the world. Your class choice is one facet–albeit an extremely important facet– of your initial concept.

An additional facet are the professions this character has and maxes out.  . If you want to play the Ranger, Herbalism and Skinning will help define the “Rangerly” aspects of your character. A Bastard Paladin who lost the Light may want to cap out First Aid as soon as possible, just to show that they had some skill in the healing arts. Use your professions to max out the traits of the character.

Once you have a list of possible classes, pick a race. Fiddle with the character creation screens. Put together a new toon that looks like the character you’ve imagined. Once you put together a character that looks like your concept, establish some  of the all important details: Quirks, personality, back story.  You do not have to set anything in stone just yet.  But you should get a feel for what you want to play:  A hard ass?  Maybe this character’s motivation is guilt?  Maybe they want adventure?  Maybe they’re running from something?  Let the ideas percolate through the first few levels of the game.  See if you can determine how this character responds to the game world. Once you begin to interact with the game–or with other RPers–some of these details will begin to emerge.  Once you start working with other RPers, the details will become more solid, more fixed in place.

Another method for determining the best Race/Class combo is to start with a particular race and look at the available class options. Chaanni, a Feathermoonie, said on Twitter that a Gnome Druid would be the ultimate badass combo, as it would cause the servers to explode. Exploding servers puts a damper on playing the game. Fortunately for our hobby, one cannot play a gnome druid….but one can play a Gnome Priest. Now, Priests and Druids are both spiritual classes. Priests have a spiritual connection to the Light and/or Shadow, while Druids have an innate connection to nature and the Emerald Dream. Since Cataclysm, Gnomes have been exploring their spiritual natures. So while it is impossible to make a gnome druid, it is possible to make a gnome who recently moved to Darnassus in order to study with the Priesthood of Elune. Once with the Night Elves, learning about druid culture isn’t too difficult. Said Gnome may be more interested in learning about Druidic ways than the priestly vows. That’s why the wee gnome learned Herbalism and Alchemy (or Skinning or whatever). Maybe said Gnome will make it their life quest to learn how to shift into the different animal forms of a druid. Granted, this is a quest that will never truly be completed, but there are items in game that would make it appear as if the Gnome is beginning to bond with the Dream. Sure, the Gnome couldn’t shift into a Bear just yet, but maybe they get half-way there by using the Frenzyheart Brew. Said item could be the reward for a long series of RP adventures!

A word of caution: Bending Lore to fit a character is acceptable. Breaking the Lore is not. Bending something too much, and it won’t just break, it will shatter. I fully recognize that some of our readers might find the Gnome example a bit too far for their taste. Other’s might see the potential in that race/class combo. If you can make it work for you, and your circle, then run with it.

There is a right way and a wrong way to RP. If you are not having fun, or you are ruining someone else’s fun, you’re doing it wrong. That’s it. You cannot RP “Wrong.” Picking the right race/class combo may appear difficult, but it is only one small step in defining the character that you want to RP in World Of Warcraft.

Have any other ideas or suggestions for RPing a particular race/class combo? Have any ideas on how to bend the combos to fit your concepts? Let us know!

*Actually, start with an understanding of the Lore of WoW. Then run with a concept.

**I just had an idea for a Worgen Druid.  Street Rat turned feral monster…  This should be part of yesterday’s post!

10:04 AM me: I need your braiiiins. For a WTTRP post

10:05 AM Fellsie: Ooooooh!

How can I halp.

10:06 AM me: help me think of an idea. What RP wisdom should I look for or try to impart

also, I’m totally using this chat session in the post.

Fellsie: Oshi.

RP wisdom, huh.

How about a post on picking up random RP?

10:07 AM me: that’s been done I think

Fellsie: How about one on trying to join established RP? Lots of folks seem to have trouble knowing how to either join a conversation in progress, or eavesdrop/audience without it being creepy.

10:08 AM me: yeah. That ‘s worth a revisit.

So what new insight is there?

Fellsie: What’s been covered so far?

10:11 AM me: communication, not stalkerish behavior. No brooding NPCs

how to talk to people in a bar

actually.

10:12 AM Fellsie: The latter was gonna be my suggestion.

—

That isn’t me, just a regular at one of my old Bars and a regular in the Pig and Whistle…

As a gentleman of a certain age, I can attest to the nuances and differences in Bars and Bar Culture. There are Sports Bars, Juice Bars, Coffee Shops, Dive Bars, Music Clubs, Wine Bars, Gastro Pubs and “Meat Markets,” each with their own rules, customs and specials. Navigating these social morays in the real world is, relatively speaking, easy. You go to the Bar, eat and drink, and eventually leave. Becoming a regular is significantly more trying. One does not become a regular just by going to the bar, the same day at the same time, for weeks at time. No, one has to learn the culture of the bar. Regulars differ by not just by style of bar, but also day and time of day.

For instance, when I was dating my wife and going to stay with her while she worked at a South Side Dive Bar, I didn’t become a regular because I was dating the bartender. As her shift started, it was the transition from the day drinkers to the evening crowd. I focused on the later. So I bided my time by talking music, mocking the north side and buying drinks of the evening crowd. When the bar changed hands a year later, I was a regular.

The rules for working with regulars in a drinking establishment are similar to breaking into an RP Circle. To help draw the parallel, let’s focus on the Pig And Whistle on Feathermoon. Tuesday Nights, most of the Wildfire Riders and Associate Friends come by for a drink, swap stories and catch each other up RP. These people are the regulars. It doesn’t matter if another group of RPers show up on any other day of the week: Tuesday night has been (and will probably continue to be) Wildfire Rider Night at the Pig.

These are the regulars who have set up the tone and the “rules” of the bar. In real life, if someone acts up in a bar, bar-backs and bouncers remove the problem. In an RP setting, people can be reported; however, the most likely scenario is the following: Problems will be /ignored.

By problems, I mean individuals who dance on tables, have their toons run in their underwear and actively try and ruin RP. In essence, they’re griefers. Most people who read WTTRP are not griefers. They actually want to join the RP. So how to join the RP?

Join their conversations: Don’t sit in the corner table and Brood. Standard dive bar culture: Avoid the brooding people, as they’re the ones who are going to throw the first punch.

Participate, don’t dominate: Regulars like to hang out with other regulars. While they’re not opposed to new people, they are also not there to talk to the new people. They are there to drink with their friends. If you butt in on conversations, try to dominate a conversation or draw attention to yourself by being a jerk, you’re going to be at best, politely ignored.

Buy the first round: When in doubt, bribe new friends with drinks. It goes a long way to establishing new relationships. If the circle you want to join isn’t in a bar, bring food. Bring Drinks. Even if it is buff food, it goes along way to transition from “interesting person” to “new circle member.”

Keep coming back: The more you frequent the same circle in their setting, the more you show you are willing to be a part of their circle.

Your stories and your ideas are just as important as the stories and ideas of the “regulars” you want to visit. To share your stories, however, you have to acknowledge the RP that occurred before you joined it. One cannot just walk into a bar and declare oneself a regular. Likewise with an RP Circle. You can’t walk in and declare yourself to be part of the group. You have to work at it and share with them, not RP at them.

While we’re not about to discuss a lot of Cata–at least, not yet**–we can start looking back at Wrath of the Lich King. What were some of the best RP experience within the Client itself? What were some of the best experiences that you created OR participated in? Why were these experiences so memorable?

**Come back saturday…

From that Fellsabucket:
“How do you balance out personal like/dislike for a character between IC and OOC reactions?”

Most of us have been there before — there’s a character that bumps into yours on occasion, and your character simply can’t get along with him or her.  Maybe Lord Mason”s looked down his nose at your character because he comes from money and she was a farmhand.  Or perhaps Trixie”s all too willing to twirl her daggers and brag about her recent crime spree to your law-abiding paladin.

On the flipside, you and your character think roses grow in Elsa’s footsteps and she could never do any wrong.

So how do you handle those situations in and out of character?  It boils down, as always, to communication.

If another character’s doing something that will spark a negative reaction from your character, drop the player an OOC whisper to give them a heads-up.  Sometimes, the conflict will be welcome.  (<3 Arrens!)  Other times, the two of you might want to step back for a few minutes and talk about ways to diffuse the situation, especially if a shouting match might mean one character or the other stalks off, thus taking them out of any larger RP gatherings that are happening at the time.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, for Elsa, who can do no wrong, a little bit of brainstorming with the other player might be productive.  What sorts of things might she do that would show your character she has flaws of her own, that might flesh her out for both of you?

Those are scenarios that are easier to work through.  What happens if you simply, OOCly, don’t care for the character concept?  Your friend Joe really, truly thinks he can pull off a character that’s half-dragon.  You’re not so keen on the premise.  It’s your right to say “I think I’m going to bow out of Joestrasza’s quest to discover his true heritage.”  But when your character’s around Joe’s in a casual setting, can they coexist civilly?

Sometimes,  your characters will simply never get along.  That’s okay!  However, make sure the lines of communication are open with the other player.  If the conflict stops being fun OOC, it’s time to take another look and make some changes.

—

From Itanya Blade:
“Talk about how to RP losing.”

This is an excellent question, and you guys are welcome to jump on in with examples from your own RP experiences — I know I won’t think of all the angles, because there are just so many.

What fun is it if you win all the time?  Failure can be a great vehicle for character development.

First of all, consider what’s at stake — if your character doesn’t win the fight, or doesn’t make it to the destination on time, what kind of loss does he or she suffer?  Losing a few gold in a card game probably won’t have the same impact as losing a sword that’s been in the family for generations.  However, if your character’s the best card shark this side of the Maelstrom, losing the game means is reputation takes a hit.  Billy the Undefeated becomes Billy the Guy I Saw Lose That One Time. The loss can be a physical one, too:  someone else gets the upper hand in a brawl, and your character’s left spitting out teeth outside the pub.

If your character is losing to another PC, discuss it with the other player. This is actually an RP opportunity for both parties.  What if your character’s great-great-great-great grandfather actually stole the sword from his rival?  And that’s who’s come to take it back?  What if Sally the Sly is the best card shark from the other side of the Maelstrom?  Maybe it kicks off a long-standing rivalry between the two.

But always make sure you’re talking it out with one another OOC.  If one character’s beating the hell out of the other, know when to say when.  Even if you’re making up the fight as you go along, keep the lines of communication open.  I remember witnessing the OOC chatter one night when Bricu, Tarquin and Ceil were fighting — “There’s a set of stairs here.  Someone’s getting knocked down them.” // “YES!” — they were orchestrating the fight as they went along and having fun with it.  At the same time, they kept the fight fairly even.  No one really had the upper hand (in this fight, everyone lost.)

It’s also possible that the opponents aren’t evenly matched, which leads to a loss.  The cocky young paladin, fresh from the Abbey, challenges a knight of the Argent Crusade and suffers a humiliating defeat.  The goblins sold your elf some enchanted dice, and they’ve always worked… until the mage she challenges counterspells the effect.

Once the loss has happened, what are the consequences? What happens if your mage goes back to her master without his grimoire?  Will your character’s family disown him when they find out the sword is gone?  Can Billy-the-Recently-Defeated show his face at any card tables in town without people laughing?

How does your character face those consequences (or do they face them at all?) Do they suck it up and tell other people about their defeat?  Do they try to cover it up?  Pretend it never happened?  Run as far away as they can get?

How does losing change the character, or, what has he/she learned? Your character doesn’t have to do a big, huge, personality 180 after losing, but it’s good to see the loss have some effect on character development.  Maybe she’s more wary of goblin dice, or gambling with mages.  Maybe he starts carrying brass knuckles in his pocket to be ready for his next barroom brawl.  Seeing her mother’s reaction to the loss of the heirloom sword makes her appreciate the legacy, or makes her question everything she knew.

Finally, what comes next? The losing doesn’t have to be the end of the story, and can, in fact, launch the next part of the arc.  Does the character seek redemption?  Does he organize a poker tournament to regain his title?  Does she find another way to come out on top?  How does it affect her relationship with the person she lost to?

Have at it, cats ‘n’ kittens.  Tell us about a time your character lost, and what the fallout was.