Reflecting on Wed’s D&D Living Adventures: We has two players at the table who, after the big fight, we’re just going around breaking things, just to see what would happen—what I call “nine-foot long outhouse ladle” roleplaying. The rest of the table was “regular” players, not rocking the boat.
Just now, I realized that could be a weakness of the D&DLA format: Players who know they can just move to a different table will play their characters as if they don’t have to live in that world.
The mental exercise begins, "Imagine you have a friend who's neuro-atypical, in that he occasionally swings his hand out and slaps whoever he's talking to across the face. The slaps tend to sting a little. Most of the time he's unaware he's doing this. When he is aware, he's either apologetic or says that's just how he is."
Is it ableist to want to not deal with him face-to-face to avoid getting slapped? What if it's emotional abuse, and it's a matter of cutting him off on the internet?
It is with a certain sadness (and a little relief) that I have to admit that the gaming group I played with online Sundays has fragmented beyond recovery.
I had played with these people for several years online, and I had led them through three different games (well, two and a half), and now they refuse to reunite, and well they shouldn't.
OTOH, I had games running sporadically on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, and had trouble preparing for all of those _and_ Sunday.
OTTH, hey—free players!
Right, let's make this official: #introduction #GoogleRefugee Hobbyist RPG gamer who spends so much time playing or running that it's a shame I'm not getting paid for it. Have been running games through Hangouts and recording to YouTube for a while now too, so not having a place to compile game materials and whatnot comes as a blow.
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