#dream library

[mostlyghostie]

The new, updated version of my Dream Library print is available here with 3 background colour options!

Which would you most want? I would personally love to read the potentially award winning book that I occasionally have vague ideas about writing..

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[hometoursandotherstuff]

Step into my dream gothic library at Strawberry Hill House in England.

Look at those shelves and fireplace. 

Isn’t it gorgeous all lit up? That ceiling.

https://www.strawberryhillhouse.org.uk/

[notanotherregulargirl6]

Starting to build my dream library from scratch 📚💅

What other book should i acquire next? 🤍📖

[crispypotatooo]

Dream library

I keep buying books because in the future I'm gonna have a kickass library with two floors and a fireplace, so I need to start collecting books to fill it with.....

[s-che]

reporting from the Dream Library: Apocalypse World

After however many years of games pointing its direction, I finally played Apocalypse Worlds as the first leg of a long series of one- and two-shots I’m running over in the Dream Library, my weekly drop-in-game-and-design-chat discord. We’re starting a unit talking through some of the highs, lows, landmarks, and cul-de-sacs in the now fourteen-year long history of PBTA design — it’s looking something like an actual play book club. 

It’s an interesting journey to be embarking on — and I’ll talk a little bit more about where we’re going next at the end of this post — but, hey, first:

I fucking loved Apocalypse World.

Part 1: Big Thoughts & Caveats

Apocalypse World rules. That isn’t a particularly hot take, and it isn’t a set up for me to tear into the game later. I’m not being polite here. The game fucking rules. Every time I opened the book (I’ve got both a physical copy and a pdf of the second edition), I was confronted by some absolute sick nasty shit that slapped and fucked and went supremely hard. The game is good good good in a way that, tbh, makes me a little disappointed in a whole bunch of PBTA games that come after it and totally miss, imo, where all the cool shit in Apocalypse World came from. 

There’s a way in which, speaking as a mostly casual observer who was mostly not around during the big years of the PBTA boom (for those keeping score at home, I listened to Friends at the Table on and off from about 2016 on and played a handful of Dungeon World and Sprawl sessions as a result, but didn’t start actively participating in the blood machine we call design discourse until after I graduated college in 2021), what seems to get fossilized as the core of PBTA design, especially in the public pitch for various systems, is mostly the simplicity of the dice and resolution systems — make a move, roll 2d6+stat, partial successes, isn’t this so much easier than d20 rollover?

And, sure, those form a part of the marketability of PBTA, especially to a mainline RPG audience. But there’s more than just that in this book — a lot more — in a way which makes me upset that this wasn’t the shit I was hearing about at 17. Meguey & Vincent Baker have skill for designing with what you might call elegant maximalism in mind, a philosophy where you are constantly confronted — especially when handling the physical object — by a book which is impressive both in its length and in its density. 

Apocalypse World (like Under Hollow Hills, which we’ll be playing at the very end of our PBTA unit in the Dream Library) is remarkable both for the number of moving pieces and for the fluidity with which those pieces fit together. I understand why that kind of game, coupled with how easy it is to hack moves into something entirely new, leads to a design moment which emphasizes rules-light play, but — agh! There’s just so much more game in Apocalypse World than in so many of the games which build on it. The text calls for the MC to “barf forth apocalyptica” — and it feels like Vincent and Meguey have done something similar, here, cramming everything which makes the game interesting right into the text.

All that being said, I butchered this game in order to run it as a one-shot. Apocalypse World should not be run as a one-shot. There are lots of very funny forum conversations to be found, if you start looking online for advice on running Apocalypse World as a one-shot, where people tell each other not to run Apocalypse World as a one-shot. In several of them, especially on the old lumpley forums, Vincent chimes in and suggest not running it as a one-shot.

Unfortunately, the limits of trying to run a series of games in conversation with each other, in a reasonable period of time, with a rotating set of players means that I can’t play Apocalypse World the way you’re supposed to. I’m going to host it again later this month, and I may try to run that session as a a little more of an as-written Session 0 (or follow Vince’s advice on playing it con-style to the letter), but that’s getting a little close to what-comes-next talk, which I said I’d save for the end. 

All-in-all, I’m not terribly unhappy with the way my cobbled together one-shot went, but — as I talk through some of the points of friction in a moment — I’m going to try to keep in mind (and I’d like y’all to keep in mind too) that much of this is my fault, for breaking the game before we every played.

That being said...

Part 2: The Session

I had four players, who made characters ahead of time — except for Hx, which we did at the top of the session. None of them, as far as I know, had played Apocalypse World before. We got an angel, a battlebabe, a brainer, a hardholder out of it. 

There were strengths and weaknesses to prepping characters ahead — while it did save time and let us play harder and faster than we would have otherwise, I struggled at times with what felt like an almost immediate divide between player characters: the hardholder and the brainer on one side, the angel and battlebabe on the other. There wasn’t player tension or conflict — just folks interests going in different directions, which is 1. totally fine, and in fact can be fun to play with over a longer time and 2. probably my fault for giving players the full list of playbooks. Hardholder is good shit, but it’s also big and requires more prep than basically any of the others, and then grounds you in a world I wish we’d had time to explore longer. 

I prepped a holding, with the help of our hardholder Mother Superior: the Red Priory, an underground market in the tunnels beneath the ruins of a city-which-was, located on the remains of an interstate highway in the slow process of sinking into the burned and blackened mudflats left behind when the wetlands dried up. I prepped some threats: a gas supplier to the west and a gang called the Crow-Eaters who were picking off caravans to the east. And then we jumped into play, opening in media res. Mother Superior was stranded, hunted by the Crow-Eaters as he tried to make it back to the safety of the Priory, while our other players (Charmer the Brainer, Kerrbox the Angel, and Rapture the Battlebabe) set out looking for their boss. Again, a breach of how the game is supposed to run, but opening with something high-octane felt important when we only had a couple of hours to dick around in the world.

We had a brief encounter at a blockaded highway, some good chats about the safety and feasibility of offroading on a dried up swamp (don’t), and an absolutely miserable (in a good way) knock-down, drag-out shootout between Mother Superior and his pursuers, which ended when an escaping Crow-Eater rode headfirst into our other players’ search party and wound up getting dragged behind a bike some five hundred feet down the road, psychically interrogated, and imprisoned in the Red Priory. Having made it safe — but badly injured — back to the holding, we capped off the session — and our story — with an attack by the full Crow-Eater gang riding a souped up bulldozer and a fleet of bikes which Kerrbox and Rapture road out to deal with while Mother Superior drifted semi-conscious in a hospital bed, dreaming with Charmer about the Crow-Eater’s boss, Lady Magpie — who, at that moment, was dueling Rapture guitar-ax-on-chains on top of the bulldozer. Every step in the process was sick as shit. The combat felt great, the social dynamics felt great, the shifting scales of threat and tension as things amped up felt great — and even with a couple of players with pretty limited RPG experience, the game felt like it had an interesting answer (or a way to find an interesting answer) to every question we hit. As always when playing online, I did wish we were in person (flipping through a book around a table just feels better than flipping through a book on a discord call) and we ran into the usual hiccups with to do the move, do it type games: cases where players had an interesting image of what they wanted to try which the moves didn’t quite cover and cases where players knew what move they were angling for but I had to push them to frame it narratively — but both of those things are solved by familiarity, and would have been smoothed out if we’d gotten to play for longer. 

There’s a slightly paradoxical way in which a one-shot of a GM’d game tends to rely more heavily on the GM than long term play does, especially when the non-GM players haven’t spent a lot of time with the game beforehand. Even if you aren’t expected to have prepped as thoroughly as you might for a campaign, the labor of hosting and facilitating has a tendency to balloon in a first session, and there were a number of times when my players looked to me for answers when, in a longer game, I’d like to think they would have felt comfortable answering the questions themselves. Some of this is just players getting warmed up to the space and to playing with each other, but there’s another edge as well: I think some players have a tricky time feeling like they can claim authorial power in a one-shot. A one-shot is perceived as a kind of bespoke experience, something hosted by me for you — a perception which, I admit, I play into when I end a Dream Library session by thanking my players for joining me. I don’t know why I do that — I certainly don’t feel that need when I GM an ongoing campaign — but I do.

Apocalypse World is a great game for breaking this habit. Even as I over-prepped for the first session, limiting myself to developing threats (and the basic setting details worked out with the hardholder) meant there were moments when not only did my players ask me questions I didn’t have an answer to, but questions which I did not feel I was the right person to answer at all, and I passed authorship off — either back to them or to another player. Breaking up the authorial duties by making it extremely clear what the MC is and is not is a huge part of what makes the Bakers work tick — and something I’ve seen them do in other, even more asymmetrical games (like the excellent Wizards Grimoire zines which are on sale right now). 

On top of that, though, Apocalypse World gives you Agendas, and most importantly the command to “Barf forth apocalyptica” which I mentioned once already. In a one-shot, having a textual instruction to answer questions with the most grotesque, evocative, and apocalyptic answer we could find was an incredible mandate which changed the world in the process of play. The mudflats got muddier as we went, the Red Priory seedier. By the time we met her, Lady Magpie had discarded her original fit for a massive cloak strung with bits of broken metal and glass which clattered and flickered with her every movement. 

Apocalypse World enshrines the call to lean into the obvious answer into its text, reminding us that it is, in fact, fun to play in genre. It is fun to play in the trope. It is fun to make things strange and beautiful and frightening purely for the purpose of being strange and beautiful and frightening. It fucking rules.

I wish, again, that I’d gotten to play it longer, and watched the world get even weirder and more apocalyptic.

Part 3: What Comes Next

I’ve got another session of Apocalypse World that I’ll be recruiting for in the Dream Library basically as soon as this post goes up — then next month we’re moving on to Night Witches and Sagas of the Icelanders to talk a little about historical fiction and genre. The schedule beyond that has been laid out, but only tentatively (at one stage, I had games planned to run until next April, which is absurd, but I’m trying to keep things flexible and let the unit lead us where it does). If you’d like to get in on the action, shoot me a message! I’m not posting the link to the Dream Library anywhere publicly at the moment, but genuinely — if you want in, you should come on in. If you don’t want to play, you don’t have to play — we’ve got a little text-based book club talking through the games simultaneously to our unit, for folks who can’t make it but still want to talk games.

On the other hand, if you want to run a game you should for sure let me know. I’ve already got a few guest hosts lined up, and I can’t wait to see what they do. Is there a game you think is secretly the key to understanding PBTA? Something you’ve been itching to try, but never found a group for? A game you hate, but feel obligated to talk about anyway?

Come and join. We’d love to have you.

We’ve got fourteen years of design to talk shit about, after all.

[vanalex]

[halfbakedfairy]

[bottledmemories]