I just want to read and write and maybe play video games if i'm feeling harassed one day. Just waking up has too much maintenance, sleeping interrupts me every time. In a perfect world I'd never sleep or want to.
I used to be ashamed of how easy I am to derail and tried to fix it. One day I gave up and let it be known that that's how it is and it's not my problem it's everyone else's don't invite me.
It's very easy to not do anything but the pressure of making something builds up until it is more uncomfortable than being comfortable and then work happens. Busy work and circular work doesn't generate pressure. It's a barking dog that gets louder and I just pull over more blankets. I can keep pulling all day.
I used to pay someone to let me moan but the pressure of having something interesting to say every week was too much. I could spend that money on work. Running games is the same but I don't save any money.
Some days i'm nauseous with things I want to make and then i'm told the world has been knocking all night and they're tired of dealing with it. Cold bath sober.
How unhappy are you willing to gamble on being happy one day?
Showing posts with label notes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label notes. Show all posts
Immanent Gods
Consider the source of the numinous. Your basic RPG thinks very little of it or places it in a watered interpretation of the greek pantheon. In this case the numinous is transcendent, coming from without and inwards. It is probably more common in reality for the numinous to be seen as immanent, coming from the inside out.
Consider the burning bush which Moses happens upon. God talks to him and makes it very clear he is temporarily inhabiting, or maintaining a situational relationship with, the bush to make a point. A culture which held to the immanence of the numinous would be speaking to the god within the bush, of and probably named Bush. Remind players laughing at the idea of experiencing the numinous in a bush that they seemed cool with the idea of their RPG gods being the cast of Super Friends, maybe a bush isn't quite so stupid.
The immanent god is named for what it is, or what is named is for the god. Since neither is distinct it becomes a moot point. This raises questions for language: if god=thing then your names for things become strong choices. Is CORN the seed, the plant and the food? Is the transformation significant? If humans can transform gods what does that mean? Are these gifts or are these powers? The religious hierarchy would have feelings about this.
This should not necessarily be taken to be too dogmatic. Religious thought is a product of the people who have it and can be flexible. Importantly, trying to show the full complexity of the numinous in a game is a road to trite simplification. Instead show facets, tenets, never the whole. Religions are complicated and any attempt to explain them fully will reveal a lack of convincing texture.
The god of thunder could logically become also the lion via the roar. The lion might leave behind the thunder over the centuries, or maintain it in an emblematic or prodigal state.
A god of a thing may come to resemble its worshippers over time while retaining an emblematic relationship with their portfolio.
A god of a great thing may be separated into sub-things. The tree god might have its roots split of into serpents and its fruit co-habit and methodologically entwine with harvest gods.
Add literary greebles
EDIT:
Immanent gods do not have interests outside of their links. A god of the reeds cares about the reeds, about houses, about music maybe. A god of a specific city cares about that city. Gods are huge and unimaginative cogs. They are not people.
Even as immanent gods become more human over time they will still be represented by their original emblems. The relationship becomes les literal and more familiar to us in our metaphorical Judeo/Christian world
Consider the burning bush which Moses happens upon. God talks to him and makes it very clear he is temporarily inhabiting, or maintaining a situational relationship with, the bush to make a point. A culture which held to the immanence of the numinous would be speaking to the god within the bush, of and probably named Bush. Remind players laughing at the idea of experiencing the numinous in a bush that they seemed cool with the idea of their RPG gods being the cast of Super Friends, maybe a bush isn't quite so stupid.
The immanent god is named for what it is, or what is named is for the god. Since neither is distinct it becomes a moot point. This raises questions for language: if god=thing then your names for things become strong choices. Is CORN the seed, the plant and the food? Is the transformation significant? If humans can transform gods what does that mean? Are these gifts or are these powers? The religious hierarchy would have feelings about this.
This should not necessarily be taken to be too dogmatic. Religious thought is a product of the people who have it and can be flexible. Importantly, trying to show the full complexity of the numinous in a game is a road to trite simplification. Instead show facets, tenets, never the whole. Religions are complicated and any attempt to explain them fully will reveal a lack of convincing texture.
The god of thunder could logically become also the lion via the roar. The lion might leave behind the thunder over the centuries, or maintain it in an emblematic or prodigal state.
A god of a thing may come to resemble its worshippers over time while retaining an emblematic relationship with their portfolio.
A god of a great thing may be separated into sub-things. The tree god might have its roots split of into serpents and its fruit co-habit and methodologically entwine with harvest gods.
Add literary greebles
EDIT:
Immanent gods do not have interests outside of their links. A god of the reeds cares about the reeds, about houses, about music maybe. A god of a specific city cares about that city. Gods are huge and unimaginative cogs. They are not people.
Even as immanent gods become more human over time they will still be represented by their original emblems. The relationship becomes les literal and more familiar to us in our metaphorical Judeo/Christian world
Some thoughts on god
Everything is metaphors, everything is reflected from above downwards. By observing the dramas that unfold between the dragonflys and the bees one can ascertain the movements of the stars.
"Hell" is anything sufficiently removed from the acquaintance of god that it looks like a degenerate satire.
Hell is therefore relative according to your position.
"Heaven" as a definitive end point is nothing like what anyone expects. Multiple heavens therefore exist and represent idealised versions of the sphere from which it is viewed. There may be clouds and naked babies, or it might just be less awful.
Definitive, terminal heaven is inconceivable oneness. Impractical though factual.
When planning a campaign be a seer. From tea leaves you see the future: broaden that. Take the interplay of simple things and apply it to larger scales higher up the ladder. The Demon Sea is the Mariana Trench with bigger fish and plans.
Everything is true, even when you're making it up. If you can't fit everything together now that just means hyper-god works in mysterious ways.
Hyper-god does not work. Hyper-god is not the totality of existence. The spheres are a series of reflections of hyper-god of increasing obscurity. He does not move the spheres, the spheres move in response to him.
Spherical reflections are distorting.
Visiting an aeon
Reflections are different but not independent.
Every campaign as a 70s sci-fi novel. The world is a wall; the world is a tree; owls can't die and are sent here to observe us by some unknown party; golden barges are like boats; they're just spaceships; they're, like, a state of mind man; everyone except the players sees an idealised world while the players see filth and muck (who's right?).
Every campaign as a mystery. Have a complicated network of logic between strange people and things and then introduce the players without any context. They have to learn.
Every campaign as a farce of manners. Social traps: does the snake-crab-thing want us to drink the tea or make the tea? Choose wrong and it might snip off your head a lay eggs in your belly. Do it right and it might let you ride on its shell to the nearest barge repairman.
"Hell" is anything sufficiently removed from the acquaintance of god that it looks like a degenerate satire.
Hell is therefore relative according to your position.
"Heaven" as a definitive end point is nothing like what anyone expects. Multiple heavens therefore exist and represent idealised versions of the sphere from which it is viewed. There may be clouds and naked babies, or it might just be less awful.
Definitive, terminal heaven is inconceivable oneness. Impractical though factual.
When planning a campaign be a seer. From tea leaves you see the future: broaden that. Take the interplay of simple things and apply it to larger scales higher up the ladder. The Demon Sea is the Mariana Trench with bigger fish and plans.
Everything is true, even when you're making it up. If you can't fit everything together now that just means hyper-god works in mysterious ways.
Hyper-god does not work. Hyper-god is not the totality of existence. The spheres are a series of reflections of hyper-god of increasing obscurity. He does not move the spheres, the spheres move in response to him.
Spherical reflections are distorting.
Visiting an aeon
Reflections are different but not independent.
Every campaign as a 70s sci-fi novel. The world is a wall; the world is a tree; owls can't die and are sent here to observe us by some unknown party; golden barges are like boats; they're just spaceships; they're, like, a state of mind man; everyone except the players sees an idealised world while the players see filth and muck (who's right?).
Every campaign as a mystery. Have a complicated network of logic between strange people and things and then introduce the players without any context. They have to learn.
Every campaign as a farce of manners. Social traps: does the snake-crab-thing want us to drink the tea or make the tea? Choose wrong and it might snip off your head a lay eggs in your belly. Do it right and it might let you ride on its shell to the nearest barge repairman.
Campaign ship
A basic campaign structure for Troika! is to give the party a golden barge, or horizon fort, or some other convenient mode of cosmic travel. At the beginning of the campaign they might be aware of a handful of spheres, or parts of spheres, or at least discrete locations. Provide some information about what can be found in these places.
Information handed out like this should be in the same way you'd expect a 10th century sailor would have it. Spices comes from that way sorta and there are dragons there and a fountain that grants eternal life and the emperor owns a tea set that summons swans when served from. There should be desirous things that players may want.
The spiders of the spider bank have found a way to weave more robust golden sails. They refuse to sell it, ensuring their treasure ships are the fastest vessels in the spheres. Getting your hands on it would ensure faster and safer journeys.
While travelling between spheres the players must expend huge resources to fuel the ships. Most of them run on gold, but more elaborate ones might have plasmic engines.
The ship will encounter troubles between places. Go watch the ship episodes of Cowboy Beebop. Turn the ship in to a little dungeon and play the Alien film.
Bad cosmic weather, or too many beasts have attached themselves to the sails and weighed it down. The further you go without stopping to scrape of these horrifying barnacles the more dangerous the trip will be, eventually scraping your metaphysical hull against the tip of a sphere, causing reality to crash right in to you.
Keeping the ship running becomes a driving factor. Making the ship nicer, or getting a better ship, or hijacking and staffing a horizon fort: also fun. Eventually the hold will be full of arcane treasures.
Information handed out like this should be in the same way you'd expect a 10th century sailor would have it. Spices comes from that way sorta and there are dragons there and a fountain that grants eternal life and the emperor owns a tea set that summons swans when served from. There should be desirous things that players may want.
The spiders of the spider bank have found a way to weave more robust golden sails. They refuse to sell it, ensuring their treasure ships are the fastest vessels in the spheres. Getting your hands on it would ensure faster and safer journeys.
While travelling between spheres the players must expend huge resources to fuel the ships. Most of them run on gold, but more elaborate ones might have plasmic engines.
The ship will encounter troubles between places. Go watch the ship episodes of Cowboy Beebop. Turn the ship in to a little dungeon and play the Alien film.
Bad cosmic weather, or too many beasts have attached themselves to the sails and weighed it down. The further you go without stopping to scrape of these horrifying barnacles the more dangerous the trip will be, eventually scraping your metaphysical hull against the tip of a sphere, causing reality to crash right in to you.
Keeping the ship running becomes a driving factor. Making the ship nicer, or getting a better ship, or hijacking and staffing a horizon fort: also fun. Eventually the hold will be full of arcane treasures.
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| Golden Barge |
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| Horizon Fort |
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