Plugging in Scenes and System

I swore that I would never do this. That I would never make a story games theory post.

But this feels different, and somehow allowable. I’m going to explore some theory, tie it directly into play techniques, and offer some diagnoses of play. This post aims to explore the idea of sockets, why we should pay attention to them during scene framing, and how game systems should support us in engaging sockets and framing scenes.

I’ve created a new category to place this post in: Practical Theory. If the conversation goes well, there might be additional Practical Theory posts in the future. If the conversation crashes and burns, I’ll destroy the category. Alright, enough preamble.

Term: Sockets

We engage stories, and especially story games, in different ways. Some of us latch onto the characters involved in the fiction, and their decisions and viewpoints are paramount. For others, the story and the plot are most important. For others, the descriptions of setting and surrounding are most important. Some of us care most about the other people at the table, and the social element of play. These different modalities of engagement are known as sockets: they’re how we “plug into” the game and our enjoyment of it. To quote directly from Mo (linked in the last sentence), sockets are where people “give and take their focus and energy to and from“.

Term: Aggressive Scene Framing

To quote, scene framing is “the technique of skimming through time in the game to a particular time and place of interest. ” Scene framing is when you cut from the previous scene and move into a new scene, establishing details of setting and situation that unfold and develop through play. Aggressive scene framing is when your use of scene framing is intentional, purposeful and focused – framing to moments of high engagement and involvement (in other worlds, moments that demand immediate and meaningful participation). Note that I intentionally avoided saying “frame to the moment of conflict”, and I’ll talk about why in a minute.

Drive Toward Meaningful Engagement (Sockets & Scene Framing)

It’s a common misconception that the way you do aggressive scene framing well is to frame to the moment of pregnant conflict, that you open with an opposed situation that must be diffused. I’m going to take a step back from this idea and offer a suggestion: scene framing should work to engage our sockets in a meaningful way, skipping that which doesn’t satisfy our engagement and energy. In other words, if we all have Conflict/Plot/Choice sockets, then and only then is it appropriate to frame to moments of intense conflict. If we all have Setting/Aesthetic sockets, then we should be framing with interesting and evocative images, and use scene framing to move us to those images.

Example A: The Spelunkers. Imagine a group of D&D players whose primary sockets are Tactical, System and Choice. Good scene framing will meaningfully engage these sockets above others. The GM uses aggressive scene framing by saying, “Alright, your trip back out of the Cavern of Doom is uneventful. When you return to the hamlet you last stayed at, you see several buildings in flames. Two pairs of guards patrol the perimeter of the hamlet, sticking to lit paths. I’ve got a map of the village here. Note that it’ll take a skill roll of 20 to put out a torch from afar, and a skill roll of 15 to sneak up on the guards.” This immediately engages their tactical socket (by asking them to choose the best and most effecient entry point), and their Choice socket (by framing the moment of planning). It would be bad scene framing to fast forward past this point, because it is here that tactics and choice have the highest level of engagement.

Example B: The Crazy Folk. Imagine a group of Don’t Rest Your Head players whose primary sockets are Aesthetic (“not necessarily caring if a narrative is created or if character development makes sense, as long as play creates something beautiful / interesting”) and Character. The GM uses aggressive scene framing by saying, “So, you’ve got the soldiers cornered. Great! With some prodding, they’ll agree to lead you to the Wax King. You are led through rank, disgusting sewer line. Along the walls of the sewer, you start to notice… wax. Hot wax seems to be bubbling out of every possible crack in the wall. One of the soldiers turns to you and asks if you’ve ever met an immortal before.” Note that there is no conflict inherent in this scene, no decision that needs to be made. There is a description/scene that the GM thinks is evocative and interesting, and there is a conversation for the characters to join into. The players are given a chance to narrate their characters’ thoughts and interactions. The GM skipped over negotiations/conflict to get to meaningful engagement – in this case, aesthetic and character.

Term: System

One compelling summary of system: System (including but not limited to ‘the rules’) is defined as the means by which the group agrees to imagined events during play (Lumpley Principle). I’m not going to extrapolate on this idea much: system is the wedding of hard rules (like when you roll dice) and soft procedures (like who has the authority to introduce setting descriptions).

At its best, system makes your participation more meaningful. These next two sections will explore that.

The Right Game Will Support Your Engagement (Sockets & Game System)

One of the reasons that RIFTS is not a good game for me is because the system doesn’t support shifting character priorities, and it doesn’t mechanically reward beautiful or interesting description. I’d be “plugging in” to stuff that is irrelevant to the mechanics/system of the game. When looking to a game, see where and how your sockets are supported and integrated in. If you have a choice socket, ask “does the game make choices meaningful”?

Why does it matter if your sockets are supported by the system? Because sockets are where you put your energy in and expect to get your energy out of. If the system doesn’t support your sockets (and your sockets don’t support the system), then you’re dividing your energy and forced to choose between two reward sets (mechanical/system, and personal).

Example C: The Spelunkers. Having decided to ambush the patrolling guards and slip into the shadows afterwards, this group of D&D players looks to the system. Does their game support and reward making tactically advantageous decisions that are based on system knowledge? If so, their sockets are integrated and supported well by their chosen system. If not, they should probably switch games. In this case, I’d say “yes”.

Example D: The Minions. A group sits down to play My Life With Master. If the players have a strong aesthetic or setting socket, they will be richly supported by the system, which provides lots of meaningful interactions across those sockets. If they have a strong choice or tactical socket, they will be unsupported by the system. Their GM and group might work to provide meaningful engagement of their socket (ie, by engineering the fiction and situation to a place where choice is relevant), but these efforts will be unsupported by system.

The Right Game Will Engage Your Best Material (Scene Framing & System)

This steps away from sockets, and offers something similar to “The Right Game Will Support Your Engagement”.

When you play, you make decisions, create new situations and details and advance the story. This content/material will take creative energy to create, and some of it will be quite amazing. Seeing that material engaged, reincorporated or integrated into an ongoing story/game/plot arc/situation equates to seeing a return on investment.

You can manage that engagement, reincorporation and integration on your own, but it takes a lot of effort. A system is right for you to the degree that it re-integrates your best material easily and meaningfully.

The Disconnects

When there’s a disconnect between sockets & scene framing, you either skip the meaningful engagement or need to wade through unmeaningful content in order to reach it. In the first case, you’ll see decreased trust and people challenging where a scene starts (“no, my character wouldn’t have done that!”). Frustration will likely build over time, as people are being denied key chances to invest and see return on their creative energy. In the second case, you’ll see boredom and mixed participation levels. People may start engaging scenes in inauthentic ways (rushing to conflict, making uncharacteristic decisions, disrespecting genre) in an attempt to move more quickly to what excites them.

When there’s a disconnect between sockets & system, players will either pursue their sockets and drift play away from engagement with the mechanics, or they will engage the mechanics with disinterest, seeing little return for their energy. In the first case, you’ll have expectation clash and a deprioritization of system (which might have been the unifying factor of play interests). In the second case, you’ll see unenthusiastic participation.

When there’s a disconnect between scene framing & system, you’ll see great material that fails to become integral to your game, or at the very least, a lack of reincorporation of great material.
This is already 300 words over my self-imposed post limit, so now I’m signing off.

Discord, Discourse and Meaningless Interactions

I go hurtling forward, and for a second there it must seem like I’m going to hit him, because in a flash he’s got both of his hands wrapped around my neck. Panic floods my vision; we make eye contact. His grip loosens and he slowly pulls his hands back. We communicate as much with our eyes and body language as we can, considering we’re in a dark room packed with people. “Sorry,” he yells, “I thought you were about to punch me.”
“No. I was only going to shove you.”
“Yeah, okay.”
We start dancing again, timidly at first. We’re back to moshing within a handful of moments.

I don’t think there’s a universally-established code of conduct for moshes. I certainly haven’t heard of one. Some people go in looking for a friendly, physical release; others go in looking for a fight. Some people will be really upset (in the “dude, wtf, that’s not cool” way) if you throw a punch at them. What’s even more disparate than the assumed conduct of a mosh is the assumed point. I’ve definitely collided with people who I could tell were going into it with something very different in mind. At a Mindless Self Indulgence concert two years ago, the guy next to me whispered to his friend, “next song, I’m totally going to hurt someone.” At the start of the next song, he ran, jumped into the air, and planted both of his feet squarely in the small of someone’s back. She hit the ground hard. I still have no idea what the hell was going through his head.

Moshing is a discourse that takes place with no meaning. It could be argued that there is some hidden language to moshing, some collective consciousness that we are exploring. I refute these arguments. What goes on when someone moshes? I’d argue that the only universal constant is release. Release does not equate meaning. There is no significance to the interactions that take place during moshing.

Evidence to support this claim, that these interactions take place without meaing:
1.) “I thought you were about to punch me.” “No. I was only going to shove you.” “Yeah, okay.”
2.) The same evening, there was a guy who I was moshing with. He’d hit me really hard, attempting to knock me off my feet, and then extend an arm to help me stabilize so I wouldn’t fall and get trampled. He was straight-up attempting to knock me over, but then was counter-balancing that by keeping me upright. Knocking me over solely for the sake of knocking me over.

I’d like to suggest that release can be a goal, and achieving meaning can be a goal, and that expressing meaning can be a goal. And I’d like to suggest that even when goals work in tandem, the more goals that you have, the less energy you are able to devote to each. In order to achieve the strongest release, you need to isolate and remove meaning (at least as a goal, preferably also as an in-the-moment side-effect).

Where do we see this happening? Moshing, as I’ve argued. As far as musical genres, breakcore and extreme noise. In movies, some avant-garde surrealist work. I’d argue Eraserhead. Certain drugs. What does these things have in common?

Discord.

Let’s use games as a lens for analyzing discord and the reduction of meaning. Sociologist Roger Caillois identifies, as one kind of play, ilinx. Ilinx is defined as play “…based on the pursuit of vertigo and which consist[s] of an attempt to momentarily destroy the stability of perception and inflict a kind of voluptuous panic upon an otherwise lucid mind. In all cases, it is a question of surrendering to a kind of spasm, seizure, or shock which destroys reality with sovereign brusqueness.”

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