Day Six: 1650 words

In the winter of that year, Jordan’s depression became so bad he could barely function. His inability to function made him even more depressed, this negative feedback loop of despair and self-loathing that resulted in a lot of negative emotion, and virtually nothing done to stop it.

Oddly enough, it was Kinsey who offered Jordan an out. One afternoon, after a session concluded (piss-poor, in Jordan’s mind; he was now officially ready to go on a gaming hiatus), Kinsey, as usual, lingered longer than Jordan wanted him to.

“So, I was thinking,” said Kinsey. “If you ever, you know, want a break or whatever, I’d be willing to run The Strange, sometime.”

“Really?” said Jordan. He didn’t think Kinsey had it in him. He figured Kinsey was far too neurotic to ever be able to get over himself enough to run an adventure of any kind.

“Well, yeah,” said Kinsey. “The Strange is a pretty bad-ass game, and I’ve read this big adventure for it, and I think I could pull it off! I think it’d be fun. But, you know, I don’t want to like, step on your toes or what-not…”

“Actually,” said Jordan. He let his guard down around Kinsey, something he rarely did. “That sounds really, really good. I am getting a little burned out, and could use some time off-stage, as it were. When do you think you can start?”

Kinsey lit up. He was not expecting Jordan to be receptive. “Oh I could start right away! Next weekend, if you wanted!”

Jordan didn’t want to be impulsive, so he said “Well, let me sleep on it, and I’ll hit you up in chat tomorrow, okay? But I do think it would be a great idea to have a little change up in the schedule.”

Jordan slept on it, and woke up feeling relieved and happy about the idea of not carrying the group on his back for the next few weeks. He entered a chat with Kinsey and told him the floor was his next Sunday, if he was still in. Kinsey was. So Jordan then sent an email to the rest of the group, letting them know he was going on a short hiatus, and in the meantime Kinsey was going to take over with a different game, The Strange.

“You alright?” said Steve in chat later that day. “Everything okay man?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” said Jordan. “No problems or anything. Kinsey’s just really pumped about his Strange game, and I could use a little break to recharge the ol’ creative batteries, you know?”

Kinsey followed up with a massive email about The Strange. It was made by the same people who made Numenera, Kinsey explained, and had the same system, so learning it was simply a matter of adapting to the new setting and some new terminology. The Strange was a contemporary, urban fantasy/sci-fi setting where the players were members of a clandestine agency known as the Estate. The Estate were sort of an existential Men in Black: they traveled to alternate realities called recursions and kept tabs on different movers and shakers, making sure earth remained safe from planetovores, massive entities that traveled the ether between realities (called the Strange, for which the game gets its name), and devoured worlds.

The glaive, nano, and jack from Numenera existed in The Strange, but they were rebranded as the Vector, the Paradox, and the Spinner, respectively.

That Sunday, the whole group met at Kinsey’s place, minus Jordan, who “stayed home sick.” That left Kinsey running a game for Steve, Samantha, and Heather. With three players and three roles, the group decided to make one of each, but they wanted to change up their schtick from Numenera. So Steve, who played the muscle in Numenera, went for the cerebral Paradox. Samantha decided to make a Spinner, leaving Heather to make a Vector.

After fully going through the character creation process with the Descriptor and Focus the same way they did in Numenera, Steve ended up making an Appealing Paradox who Works Undercover; Samantha went with a Lucky Spinner who Looks for Trouble, and Heather made a Strange Vector who Is Licensed to Carry.

The first session went swimmingly. The players greatly enjoyed their fantasy vacation from Numenera. Heather, in particular, enjoyed the session. Though she’d never admit it to Jordan for fear of hurting his feelings, she actually enjoyed Kinsey’s Strange session even more. Heather was able to get in on the ground level of a new game with Kinsey, whereas she’s felt like she’s spent weeks playing catch up with the rest of the group in Numenera. She also liked her character a lot more. Numenera being her first game, she didn’t know what to expect and thus stuck closely to her first instinct, leading her to make a fairly-straightforward sneaky Jack. This time around, she was bold and experimented a little more, creating a loud and wild, physical vector. It was a role she relished.

Steve felt similarly. Being new himself, he also stuck close to first intent with Numenera, but got a little more creative in The Strange, breaking out of his own typecast as the strong, silent type and being a smooth, suave spy-like character, instead. It was great fun for him; however, his loyalty to Jordan prevented him from truly making himself at home in Kinsey’s game. Steve never understood what Jordan found so unlikable about Kinsey. Yes, he could be a bit eccentric, even a little rude or thoughtly, but beneath the surface Steve found him to be very nice, and even pretty funny.

Samantha was a little more reserved in her opinion. She did not appreciate Kinsey’s thoughtlessness at all. She understood and accepted him for it, but she would never consider him a good friend. Nevertheless, she too had a good time at Kinsey’s game.

Meanwhile, back at home, Jordan had a great afternoon. His initial concern was that the day would be long, lonely, and boring, without his usual group, and he was afraid his depression would crush him. However, his instinct was to stay home today, and so he followed it. And it turned out to be a relaxing afternoon for him. Jordan played videogames, watched a few movies, caught up on some TV shows, did some reading, did his laundry. It was a little lonely, but the lack of pressure was a great relief to him.

That evening, as he sat on his computer, he read all the posts on Facebook that his friends were making about how much fun they had at Kinsey’s game. Normally such a thing would make Jordan a little competitive, eager to out-do a competitor to his role as the group facilitator; but today, he was happy everyone had fun and the world moved on without him.

“So it sounds like it went really well!” said Jordan.

“It did! I think it went pretty smoothly,” said Kinsey. He went on with a massive, uninterrupted string of chat messages about the particulars of the adventure, the strengths and weaknesses of the system, and his plans for potential future sessions. Jordan idly read these lines of chat as he browsed the internet.

“So how long are you going to be out?” said Kinsey.

Jordan wanted to give an absolute time, to be fair to the others, but he wasn’t sure how much time he was going to need. “Well, definitely next week,” said Jordan, “and probably the week after that, too. Actually, let’s just call it an even month, okay? So the next three sessions, all yours.”

“Great!” Kinsey said. “I’ll definitely get to finish this adventure then,” and he continued on for several lines about possible side stories he might be able to bring into the main plot, and some other plans he had for the other players.

The following weekend, Jordan joined them. Before the game started, Jordan made himself a Brash Spinner who Adapts to Any Environment. Not having paid much attention to Kinsey’s rants about the game, he was going in fairly fresh.

Jordan had a good time, but was overall a little bored. He found it tough to go back to merely controlling one character when he was used to running an entire world. Also, with the spotlight clearly and consistently on Kinsey, his little quirks were really getting on Jordan’s nerves. The constant attempts at jokes that weren’t at all funny. The obsessing over trivial details. The non-sequitur rants that would seemingly happen randomly and last far longer than they should. His incessant need to place his opinion on a topic first and foremost at the front of any line of conversation. It drove Jordan nuts.

He did enjoy the less-pressure environment to hang out with his friends, though. It was good to be able to joke with Steve and Samantha, and to have an opportunity to get to know Heather a little better, now that he wasn’t so busy juggling so many other things in the air to keep the game running. Best of all, Jordan believed his crush on Samantha was beginning to fade. He still found her very intelligent and great to talk to, but in talking to her realized there wasn’t much chemistry to be found in her interaction. Perhaps he could manage hanging out with her and Steve and not feeling like the losing contestant on a game show, afterall.

The weeks carried on like this, and Kinsey’s game continued. The game finally ended in January, to rousing applause for Kinsey, who actually blushed. It was then Jordan realized that even though Kinsey did a lot of talking, he wasn’t terribly confident, and that putting himself out there for this game was probably a real challenge for him. This created some new respect for Kinsey, and Jordan found himself more tolerant of “his bullshit” in the weeks to follow.

Day Five, 11/5: 1614 words

For the first time in an embarrassingly long time, Jordan’s apartment was completely clean. It had taken hours, but Jordan finally got it done. It wasn’t that Jordan was a messy person; he was just a low-maintenance person. He’ll do most of his cleaning, but not all of it, and the cumulative effect slowly encroaches across the apartment, gradually transferring the home of a responsible, mid-30s adult into the warzone of a 16-year old boy.

But the place was clean now, just in time for the group. This would be the first RPG session in Jordan’s own home. After kicking out Mark, everyone agreed it was time to change venues. The unspoken fear was that Mark would show up uninvited. That seemed like a ridiculous notion to Jordan, but better safe than sorry.

It was the mid-term elections that pushed Mark over the edge. Who gets that worked up over mid-term elections? thought Jordan. Not to mention the elections were on a Tuesday, and Mark was that stressed out on a Sunday. If he was that bad on Sunday, how furious was he on Wednesday?

And, really, thought Jordan, how could he not see it coming? After he almost got into a physical altercation with Kinsey, and argued so vehemently with Samantha it put her in tears (which, predictably, pissed off Steve, even though they weren’t dating at the time), how could Mark not understand that it was time for him to move on?

In the weeks leading up to Mark’s last session, Jordan had fielded a flurry of emails from the others saying something had to be done about Mark. Jordan, who loathed such a confrontation, was hesitant to act, until Samantha started talking about leaving. That was an unacceptable loss to Jordan, partially because he liked Sam so much, and partially because that may have set off a chain-reaction that would cost him Steve, as well. Further sealing the deal was Heather’s rabid enthusiasm for the game. Jordan knew if he kicked Mark, he could easily pick up Heather to replace him as a regular, and not miss a beat.

Of course, none of this would have been an issue if his stupid idea for the NoVa IFC had panned out. But it didn’t. All his campaigning and hard work resulted in four new gamers, three of whom didn’t work out. All of his efforts had yielded only Heather. Heather was great, and Jordan was glad she’d joined them all, but the extensive social media campaign he launched only to produce one member seemed to Jordan, in a word, pathetic.

Anyways, Jordan, after discussing the matter at length with the others over email, knew it had to be done. The only question was how? Ultimately, Jordan settled on an email. Jordan felt like it was a coward’s way out, but it seemed to make the best sense to him. If we sprung it on him before a session, now he’s driven over to the library and committed to an afternoon with the group only to find out he got kicked out. That seemed like a dick move, to Jordan. And if we allowed him to stay for that last session, that would be even more awkward, assuming Mark would even want to.

A meeting during the week was nearly impossible to coordinate with everyone’s schedules. Jordan was too nervous to talk to Mark alone, face-to-face, which humiliated Jordan and just made him feel bad about everything else. So email it was.

And so Jordan composed a lengthy email describing the situation (“your anger is out of control and you’re beginning to scare others in the group”), elaborating on that position (“here are a number of incidents when your anger became a problem”), and finally stating the bottom line (“we wish you the best of luck, but we think it would be for the best if you didn’t continue playing in this game with us. Please don’t take it personally.”) If Jordan was going to do this via email, he was going to do it right, giving Mark plenty of time to think on it, and change his plans for Sundays. Jordan got straight to work on the email after he came home from the office on Monday night, and after an entire evening of drafting it and going over it online with Steve, he finally sent it at 11:04 p.m.

Mark took it about as well as Jordan expected he would. Mark’s response, sent at 12:14 a.m., was an equally-lengthy, court-room style rebuttal of nearly everything Jordan wrote about (“I was just assessing the situation, it’s not my fault Samantha started bawling about it”), chock-full of barely-contained anger, hurt, and digs at nearly everyone in the group, especially Jordan himself (“you’re kicking me out because some people complained about me, dude. How the FUCK am I NOT going to take that personally?”)

The whole thing really upset Jordan. His response, sent at 1:28 a.m., was a refutation of everything he had previously said (“Man, Mark, how do you NOT see where everyone is coming from? Look at the fucking email you JUST WROTE BACK TO ME!”), and a doubling-down of his position (“I really think this is for the best, Mark. Considering how pissed you seem now, you’re probably going to be happier, too.”)

Jordan’s phone rang at 1:56 a.m. It was Mark. Jordan didn’t pick up. Mark did not leave a voicemail.

This back-and-forth emailing continued until Thursday evening. It ended as unceremoniously as it began, with Jordan un-friending Mark from Facebook and filtering all further retorts from him directly into his spam folder. The entire exchange left Jordan emotionally exhausted, and depressed.

“I can’t believe he’s being so terrible about this,” Jordan wrote in a chat to Steve, Thursday night.

“Yeah, he’s something else. But you did the right thing, man. Good on you for taking the initiative and getting him out. He was being a toxic influence on the group,” Steve wrote back.

Depression, once experienced, spread like a festering wound throughout Jordan’s soul. He had been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) when he was 21, and has been on various antidepressants throughout his life since then. Though the medications typically work, especially troubling events would allow the depression to break through the medication, and bring Jordan low for days, often weeks, at a time. He could feel it now, this week, working it’s way in...the falling out with Mark, the failure of the NoVa IFC, the brewing jealousy of Steve’s relationship with Sam…

Jordan called in to work on Friday. He spent the entire weekend on the sofa, playing video games half-heartedly. He left the apartment only once, to get food. He did no prep for this week’s Numenera game. Jordan snapped out of it Saturday night, just in time to get his apartment cleaned for the session the following morning.

*  *  *  *  *

The session went poorly, according to Jordan. Though everyone seemed to have fun, and his apartment proved to be suitably comfortable, his lack of prep left Jordan scurrying for even the most basic details as the session progressed.

The low-point for Jordan was when, after a long pause to go over some notes, Jordan looked up and saw Steve and Samantha cuddling on his couch. The only thing that allowed Jordan to recover and carry on was the look of discomfort on Samantha’s face as she shifted nervously on the couch. Was she as not into Steve as Steve was into her? thought Jordan. Might she be more into someone else?

At this point in his life, Jordan was a pro at dealing with his depression, and he knew sometimes riding even the faintest glimmer of hope allowed him to emerge from his personal darkness and carry on. And that is exactly what Jordan did, subconsciously entertaining thoughts of Samantha’s disappointment in her boyfriend, feeding off that hope, using it to climb out of his black hole of depression.

The session, which Jordan personally declared a loss, at least ended strong. Pulling out of the depression, he described a rousing action sequence as the players escaped from a collapsing tunnel while they simultaneously fought off wild beasts. It was exciting, and a few good laughs were had at Kinsey’s expense, thanks to some timely natural 1’s on some choice dice rolls.

As Jordan cleaned up after the others left, he pondered the short-term future of his gaming group. The latest depressive spell left him feeling disillusioned with the game he was running. Jordan didn’t know, however, if that disillusionment was just the depression, or actual disillusionment revealed by the depression. It’s happened both ways, in the past. Jordan knows his interests can shift and fade by a bout of depression. Things that had no appeal can suddenly consume Jordan, and things that were exciting and fun can become mundane, as if the depression washed away all the joy that was once found there, and deposited it somewhere else.

Jordan’s feelings for Samantha continued to rankle him, as well. He felt undeniably attracted to her now. But she was dating Steve, who Jordan had grown close to over the past several months. Jordan knew he didn’t have it in him to break up a relationship (even if he had the charisma necessary to do so, which he believes he does not), and even if he did, he wouldn’t want to hurt his friend. Jordan resented this drama brewing inside of him, but felt powerless to stop it. He didn’t know what he was going to do, and he certainly couldn’t turn to his usual confidante...Steve...about it.

Day Four: 11/4, 1817 words

Steve and Jordan sat at a booth in a Denny’s. Jordan had the Moons Over My Hammy. Steve got a cheeseburger.

“So...Sam, huh?” said Jordan.

“Yep.” said Steve.

“How long have you felt this way?”

“Ah...when did we first meet again?” said Steve, grinning sheepishly.

Jordan chuckled. “That was several months ago, man. You haven’t made a move yet?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Steve. “We’ve got a great thing going on here, with your game. And I don’t want to ruin that, and I’m afraid, if I ask her out, I will.”

Jordan thought on this for a moment. “Well, that works both ways, right? Since you have been hanging with her for a couple of months now, you’re just asking her to hang out, one-on-one, right? You can structure it as not a date, but just two friends hanging out.”

Steve pondered this, then said, “Well I don’t want to give the wrong impression. I DO want to go out with her.”

“You would be,” said Jordan. “You just wouldn’t call it that until after it’s over, see? If, say, you take her out to dinner and a movie, and it goes great? It’s a date! If it goes poorly? It’s two friends, hanging out. Nothing lost.”

“Hmm,” said Steve. “That’s not bad. I can do that.”

“This ain’t my first rodeo, Steve,” said Jordan. Though truthfully, it sort of was. He’d played games before with married couples, boyfriends, and girlfriends, but never presided over a courtship blooming within his own game. Jordan wasn’t trying to lie for himself, though; he was merely trying to put Steve at ease.

“Yeah? You’ve played matchmaker to the geeks before?” said Steve.

Jordan took a big bite out of his sandwich. In the silence that followed, he changed topics. “So have you been enjoying yourself these past few months?”

“I wouldn’t be coming back if I didn’t!” Steve said. “Good times.”

“What do you like most about it?” said Jordan.

“Well, I like how I get to hang out with people, and there’s no pressure to ‘click.’ We all have this thing, this game, that we can share our attention and efforts on. So there’s no awkward conversations, no trying to make anything work. But at the same time, we get to socialize. It’s a low-pressure way to meet and make friends with people, I guess is what I’m saying.

Jordan took another bite. He wouldn’t admit this to himself, but Jordan was not completely happy with that response. He wanted to hear about how clever and amazing the game itself was, or how engaging as a GM he was. He did not want to hear about how easy it made networking for Steve. He felt like Steve was somehow missing the point of role-playing games.

Steve picked up on this. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt that you’re an awesome GM.”

Jordan smiled. “Thanks. But you don’t know that, you’ve never played in another game before!”

“I don’t need to to know your know your shit,” said Steve. “I’ve heard the others talk about other games. It seems like you really know your stuff compared to others out there.”

Jordan relented. “Yeah, there are a lot of GMs out there who are, sometimes, just trying to get something out of the game that isn’t actually there. Something that isn’t necessarily even supposed to be there. Like, the whole God Complex thing? Some GMs really get off on that, thinking they’re these omnipotent storytelling deities, lording it over their players. I never saw the point of that, personally. I think of myself as just directing the story you guys are making!”

This, of course, is bullshit. Jordan (who, again, would deny this if ever confronted with it) considers himself a master storyteller. The idea of directing the stories of his players, if followed through Jordan’s brain, would lead right back to Jordan planting the seeds for those stories himself. Jordan thinks of himself as a manipulator, getting the players to go where he wants them to go for the story, but all the while making them think it’s their idea.

“Well the whole thing was thrown together by you,” said Steve. “If you didn’t study the book and write the adventures, there wouldn’t be a game. So even if you just direct our stories, it’s you who set them up, right?”

Jordan, grinning, sighed wistfully. “Yeah, I suppose that’s right. Thanks, man.”

*  *  *  *  *

That Sunday, while Jordan set up, Samantha showed up early.

“Hey, Jordan,” said Samantha.

“Hey, Sam,” said Jordan. In light of his conversation the other afternoon with Steve, he wasn’t sure what the right play was here. Should he try and hook up his friend? Or should he keep out of it? He settled on talking around it.

“You ready to play some more Numenera today?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” she said.

A brief silence.

“You’re here a little early, this morning,” said Jordan.

“Yeah, I got up early…” Samantha went on to talk about the adjustments to her schedule as part of Daylight Savings Time. As she spoke, Jordan marveled at how much more talkative Samantha had become in the months since she’d joined the group. She was down-right meek when she first walked into the library, thought Jordan. Now she’s talking my ear off about Daylight Savings Time. She must really like what we’re doing here.

“Yeah, that happens to me around this time every year, too,” said Jordan, only dimly aware of what Samantha had said. Suddenly, he snapped into focus. “Hey, now that it’s just us here, we’ve got a good chance to talk about your character.”

“Okay,” she said. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No!” said Jordan, laughing. “Of course not! I wanted to talk about your character’s past. I think we can weave something into this adventure or the next one from it.”

“Oh!” said Samantha. She smiled. “Sure.”

“So, your nano…” Jordan rifled through his papers. He pulled a pencil out of his backpack. “She’s this real tough type, like an extreme explorer, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I picture her like, almost like a spelunker, you know? Diving into caves and stuff.”

“So exploring the svenskar tunnels has probably been right up your character’s alley, huh?”

“Yes, it has!”

“Okay...so what if we enter this chamber, and it turns out you’ve been there before?”

“Oh, cool!” said Samantha. “That would be great!”

“Okay,” said Jordan. “I’m just going to leave it at that. I want you to come up with when you’ve been there before, why you were there, and what you found there. You can come up with that stuff whenever you want. Whenever you and the others show up in a chamber, all you have to do is speak up, and I’ll just follow your lead.”

“Really?” said Samantha. “I can make up anything?”

“Really,” said Jordan. “I mean, work with me here; don’t give me something I can’t use, but I trust you will come up with something plenty interesting.”

“How do I know what you can use?” she said.

“Well, if you’re in doubt, just send me a message or we can take a break and talk about it outside before it happens. Basically you want to give me something with some hooks in it, you know? Some blank spaces that I can fill in. You want to avoid saying something like ‘I was in this tunnel a few years ago, there were some cyphers here, I took them all and moved on.’ Have something interesting going on in that chamber, right? Something unresolved, if possible. Think you can do that?”

“Hmm,” Samantha, finger on her chin, green eyes turned up to the fluorescent lights, looked comically like she was posing for a college poster. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

“Great,” said Jordan. Jordan really was confident that Samantha would come up with something. That wasn’t Jordan’s hubris...he would never imagine asking the analytical and over-thinking Kinsey to do something like this...but he knew Samantha was up to the challenge. She was clever and imaginative. No wonder Steve liked her, Jordan thought. I might just like her, too.

Holy shit, Jordan thought. I might just like her too!

*  *  *  *  *

The session ran a little awkwardly for Jordan. Thoughts about Sam kept circling his head, intruding on his creative process, and he had to mentally bat them away. It led to him feeling quite distracted that afternoon. All the other players seemed to like the session enough, but Jordan knew it wasn’t his best.

As the session came to an end and everyone began packing their things, Kinsey began with yet another assessment of the Numenera game system, chatting to everyone who would listen, but with most of his thoughts addressed to Jordan. Jordan nodded, but his attention was actually across the table, focused on Steve and Samantha. Jordan couldn’t make out their conversation because Kinsey wouldn’t keep his god damn mouth shut, but Jordan saw that Steve was trying to be cool. He was making jokes. Somehow, though, it was working. Sam was laughing. She was not an easy laugh, but when she did, it was great. It was deep and hearty, and she seemed embarrassed by it, covering her mouth or face and trying to stop her whole body from trembling with laughter….

“So, what do you think?” said Kinsey.

“Um,” Jordan rapidly played back Kinsey’s scattered, neurotic ranting in his head. What the hell was he talking about? “You think this would all work better with The Strange?”

“Yeah,” said Kinsey. “I mean, don’t get me wrong...you’re doing great, I love this...but I just see the nuances of the system a little better utilized in The Strange.”

The Strange was another role-playing game, made by the same publisher as Numenera, co-written by the same author, and using the same mechanics. The fundamental difference was in setting...while Numenera was a bizarre hybrid of science-fantasy, The Strange had a slightly more contemporary science fiction feel to it. Jordan was very interested in the game, but committed to Numenera. Kinsey, who could never commit to just one game, was always talking about it.

Though Jordan ordinarily found himself annoyed with Kinsey’s inability to be completely content with anything, he actually found this discussion a nice distraction from where his mind was naturally heading, towards Samantha and Steve, as they waved goodbye to Jordan and walked out of the room together. He ended up staying in the conference room much longer than he intended with Kinsey. He finally managed to get the last word when Jordan suggested Kinsey run a single-adventure session of The Strange during one of their breaks in the coming fall. Jordan knows a quick way to always get Kinsey to shut up was always to suggest he actually do something instead of just talking.

Day Three, 11/3 Session Two: 679 words

“You ever worry about your soul?” asked Samantha.

Steve, playing in character, answered, “I don’t think I have one.”

“Of course you do!” said Samantha.

“I don’t have much use for anything I can’t see, hear, or feel,” said Steve.

“You can feel your soul, can’t you?”

“No. Can you?”

“Of course. I can feel it when I see the sun rise every morning. I feel it whenever you slay some animal so that we can eat. I feel it whenever I see one of my friends getting hurt.”

“That’s not the same thing as a soul.”

“Are you so sure?”

Steve was indifferent to the actual role-playing in this role-playing game. Samantha really seemed to like it, though. And since Steve really liked Samantha, he always upped his efforts to role-play whenever she wanted to do a scene. Steve had come to understand about the constant back-and-forth pull of a roleplaying game, between collaborative fiction and statistics-driven game.

“A lot of people, they tend to lean heavy on one over the other,” said Jordan to him, one Sunday morning, before the others had arrived. “I, however, strive for a balance. I think RPGs are at their best when there’s the right amount of both, like a yin-yang thing, right?”

Steve of course had little experience with such things, but found himself agreeing with Jordan. The others seemed to vary. Kinsey very clearly preferred the more gaming-aspects of RPGs. It’s not that he hated the roleplaying bits...he admits freely that an RPG wouldn’t be an RPG without the “RP,”....but he always regarded the role-playing as an afterthought, compared to the meticulous planning and calculating he did in the numbers across his character sheet. Samantha was on the other end of the spectrum. Though she didn’t roleplay all the time, she was frequently the first to jump into character when Jordan described the latest situation in-game to the players.

Over the weeks since joining the group, Steve had learned a lot about the complexities of role-playing games. There’s more than enough stats, techniques, and strategies to rival or even surpass most sports. Every game carries its own system, and even subsystems, of rules and practices. Every GM has their own techniques and priorities. Every player has their own preferred method of play. Role-playing, Steve had discovered, is a hobby every bit as varied as the people who played it.

*  *  *  *  *

Jordan sat at his desk. The clock on his computer displayed 2:08 a.m. He placed his tired head in his tired hands and sighed deeply.

Jordan kept trying to remind himself that his problems were good problems to have. It wasn’t working, though. He just wished he didn’t have problems.

Coming up with a viable session for this coming Sunday seemed like an increasingly daunting prospect. Mentally, Jordan assessed the situation: Steve and Samantha were on a roadtrip and would be out this weekend. He now has a new player, Heather, brand new to roleplaying, joining him this session. Mark is about ready to beat the shit out of Kinsey. Kinsey does not realize this, and will likely get the shit kicked right out of him, as a result. Scott and Paul, who showed up last week, have not been returning his emails. He’s not sure if they’re in or out for this coming Sunday. So with two of his regulars gone, as well as a big question mark on two of his new players, continuing the campaign seems like a dubious proposition. However, a new game on top of the regular game seems equally dubious, not to mention how to merge Heather into the regular game next weekend. Also, if Jordan doesn’t talk to Kinsey, Mark will...with his fists, most-likely. Though Jordan actually believes a good ass-kicking may do Kinsey some good, he doesn’t want it happening during his game.

I’m going to have to figure out something, Jordan thought. But it’s not going to be tonight. With that, Jordan headed to bed, logistical details dancing along his ceiling as he laid in the dark.

Day Three, 11/3: 2093 words

“I wish I could punch cancer right in the fucking face,” said Mark. He slammed his book against the table. “I wish I could rip cancer’s fucking balls off, and knock that fucker to the ground, and fucking curb stomp it and…”

Mark picked up the book, slammed it onto the table again. He paused for one silent moment, his chest heaving, before finally sweeping everything off the table in a rage. He kicked the chair, knocking it to the ground. He dropped to the floor next to it. He put his hands over his face. Then he sobbed, big wracking sobs that left his body trembling. His angry crying bounced off the glass walls of the meeting room, anguish amplified.

Steve, Jordan, Samantha, and Kinsey sat at the table and watched Mark’s breakdown. It was clearly written on each of their faces that none of them knew what to do. Steve broke the spell just enough to glance over at Samantha. Tears rolled down her face. She didn’t seem to notice.

Finally, Jordan was able to seize the moment. He got out of his chair, moved over to Mark. He sat on the floor next to him. He reached out, took Mark in his arms, and held him. Mark wept uncontrollably. His tears quickly stained Jordan’s shirt.

Steve and Kinsey were still paralyzed. Samantha took Jordan’s lead, got up, and sat on the floor with the two of them. As she moved to the floor, she produced a packet of tissues from a pocket of her backpack.

Two librarians were heading quickly to the meeting room. Steve glared at them, his eyes saying “don’t you fucking dare.” They stopped, stood in awkward inaction for a moment, then turned around and walked back to the desk.

Kinsey was next. He too got out of his chair, sat on the floor next to the others. His eyes welled up with tears, but he said nothing. Finally, Steve joined the rest of the group on the floor.

All five of them sat there, staring at the green carpet. For several minutes, the only sound in the room was Mark’s sobbing.

Finally, Samantha said “I’m so, so sorry, Mark.” She immediately hated the stupid inadequacy of her remark.

But Jordan backed her up. “Yeah, me too, man,” he said. “Anything you need, Mark. Anything you need.”

“My aunt,” said Kinsey. His voice was filled with doubt most uncharacteristic of him. “My aunt, she had it, too...cancer, I mean. Breast cancer. She died, like, six years ago. It sucks, man, I know.”

Steve felt woefully inadequate to handle any of this. “Maybe we should just cancel today’s game, guys. Jordan?”

Jordan thought for a moment. He turned himself to face Mark. “Mark,” he said. “If you want to go, that’s totally, completely understandable. And if you need anything, again, man, let us know. But, maybe, you need some distraction right now? Maybe some role-playing could help, you know, get your mind out of this? If you want, of course...whatever you need, man.”

Mark took a deep breath, finally getting himself under control. He nodded. “Yeah, okay. No, you’re right. Let’s play. I need something. Thanks.”

“Okay, good,” said Jordan. He patted Mark on the back, then got off the floor.

*  *  *  *  *

That afternoon, the characters continued their exploration of the svenskar tunnels. The debate continued to rage between Kinsey and Steve on whether they should try and get to the tree at the center of the root system or simply continue to travel east in the hopes of getting home. Finally, Steve won out, and the characters emerge from the trunk of the svenskar tree.

“The tree opens out into a massive underground chamber. At the base of the tree is a large pond...really more like a small lake. Beneath the lake is a vast bed of glowing, orange fungi, or maybe coral? Enough to illuminate the entire chamber. The fungi also clings to the roots at the top of the tree, on the ceiling, too.”

“All of you emerge from the trunk and are now standing on a wide root that branches into the water…”

“Wait,” said Kinsey. “I thought we came from the ceiling. Is the tree upside down? Or….”

“The tree spans the entire height of the chamber,” said Jordan. “There are roots at either end of the tree, top and bottom. You guys came in from the ceiling, and are now close to the ground level of the chamber. At the top of the chamber, the roots are wide...wide enough for all of you to walk inside of, obviously...and they shoot in and out of the roof of the chamber. The roots on the bottom, entering the water, are much smaller, though still several meters in diameter.”

“Cool,” said Samantha, under her breath.

“How do we get out of this chamber?” asked Mark. His eyes were blood-shot.

“You don’t see any visible doors or tunnels or anything,” said Jordan. “Looks like you’ll have to go back into the tree. However, you do see some glittering objects along one bank of the lake.”

“Glittering objects?” said Steve. “Like...cyphers?”

“Could be,” said Jordan, grinning. “Several of them...five, at least, maybe more…they’re scattered loosely along a ‘shore’ of the lake, several meters away from you all. You also notice a few humanoid shapes, laying face-down on the shore. Motionless.”

“Does one of the trees roots extend out that way?” asked Samantha.

“No,” said Jordan. “You don’t see any way to get to the shore without going through the water.”

“I jump in—” Mark began.

“No, wait!” said Kinsey. “We don’t know if the water’s safe!”

“Oh. Right,” said Mark. “I’ll wait a moment.”

Jordan smiled. He was about to make a comment about how un-Mark of him that was, to show any kind of restraint. Jumping first and thinking later has been Mark’s character’s reputation this entire game. But Jordan stayed quiet, instead.

“I poke the water with the tip of my spear,” said Steve.

“You emerge the tip of your spear into the water,” said Jordan. “Immediately, you see the tip of your spear begin to smoke and bubble and hiss. You pull the tip of the spear out, but it’s too late; whatever the water is, it melted the end of your spear right off.”

“You shouldn’t have used your weapon, dumb-ass!” said Kinsey.

Steve glared at him.

“So, those cyphers, are they in the water?” said Samantha.

“No,” said Jordan. “They’re on the ‘shore,’ just outside of the water.”

“Those are probably our missing travelers,” said Steve. “Just to confirm our suspicions, I yell out to them, see if, you know, maybe they’re just sleeping.” Everyone gave Steve a dubious look.

“Okay,” said Jordan. “You yell out to them and, sure enough, no response.”

“Well, looks like we’ll need to make a raft,” said Kinsey. “Time to cut some wood off this tree…”

*  *  *  *  *

Jordan cleaned up the meeting room that afternoon feeling truly, incredibly accomplished. This was his finest session yet, and just at the right time. To Jordan, there was nothing...nothing...better than pulling off a great adventure when the group really needed one.

And boy, did the group need one, thought Jordan. With Mark’s breakdown about his sister’s cancer, and the bad days at work Steve’s been talking about, the group was ready for a nice, relaxing-but-exciting escape into the Ninth World, and Jordan was able to provide. It was time, he thought. It’s time to go bigger.

When Jordan got home that evening, he immediately got to work on his website. The Northern Virginia Interactive Fiction Club (NoVa IFC) was almost ready to go live. When it did, Jordan’s plan was to gradually recruit more gamemasters and have role-playing games going on every day of the week. At first, the commitment from Jordan would have to be pretty big; until he found the GM’s he needed, he’d have to run the games. And he couldn’t just grab any GM’s; Jordan had plans to establish a standard. A brand. He wanted people to talk about the NoVa IFC as having a certain quality. This wasn’t going to just be a random group of amateur novel writers and anti-social nerds congregating; this was going to be a phenomenon. This was going to be something different and unique, a new way of entertaining in a new age.

Jordan put the final finishing touches on the website, then sent invites to his regular players. The website was ready, and so was the Facebook page for the site, the Google+ page for the site, the Twitter handle for the site, and the blog for the site. For the moment, Jordan put the YouTube, Vine, and Instagram plans on hold. He didn’t know how comfortable members would be with broadcasting themselves across the Internet, so he’d leave that one alone and address it later, when he had a larger following. The podcast, on the other hand, would probably begin in the next week or two. It’d simply start with his own recaps of his Numenera games, but as the club grew, he’d have a rotating panel of his GM’s discussing their games and the finer points of the hobby.

For now, though, it would just be him. He’d need a co-host, though. Anyone but Kinsey, he thought. He noticed Steve was online, and asked him to chat.

Jordan: Hey Steve. Did you like the game today?

Steve: Loved it! Great work! I think it was a great idea to keep playing for Mark. I think it really helped his spirits.

Jordan: Thanks. I did, too. I hope he’s alright.

Steve: He’ll be fine, I think. It’s going to be rough for a couple of weeks, but he’s tough, he’ll move on.

Jordan: Right. So how would you feel about co-hosting a podcast with me about our Numenera game?

Steve: A podcast? Really?

Jordan: Yeah. We’d basically just BS about the game after each session...like, not necessarily immediately after the session, later in the week...but we’d just talk about what went well, what our plans are for the future, that kind of thing.

Steve: Is this to go along with the website you just sent me an invite to?

Jordan: Yep! I’m going big-time, baby! I want this NoVa IFC thing to really take off.

Steve: How are you going to have the time for all of that?

Jordan: I’m not; I’m going to need to recruit some other GMs, get other games going to make it all work.

Steve: You got anyone in mind?

Jordan: Not yet. You interested?

Steve: In GMing? Hell no! I can barely handle playing!

Jordan: lol, you’re doing fine! Nothing to it.

Steve: Maybe. I’d like to play for a few more months though before I even consider running anything.

Jordan: Sure, fair enough. But do you want to do the podcast with me?

Steve: Sure. I’m just not sure what we’re going to say, you know?

Jordan: You can leave the agenda to me. I just need someone to have a back-and-forth with, you know?

Steve: Yeah, true. So what happens when others start signing up? Are you going to bring them into our Numenera game, or are you going to start a second game later in the week, or what?

Jordan: Both, depending on how many people I get. At first, I’ll just add them to our game, but once I have enough people, I’ll split them into a second group and run two games a week.

Steve: Sounds pretty ambitious!

Jordan: Well, it’s what I do, you know? EVERYONE should be playing role-playing games.

Steve: I agree. It’s a lot of fun!

*  *  *  *  *

Steve signed off of chat, flopped onto the couch, and watched some TV before bed. Man, Jordan is fucking crazy about this stuff, he thought as he idly channel surfed. He wasn’t sure about this whole “NoVa IFC” thing, though. Role-playing games require a lot of brain power, and he wasn’t sure a lot of people could handle doing this kind of thing on a regular basis. Steve himself was happy to have it in his life, especially considering how boring the rest of his life was, but he couldn’t imagine a father with kids and a full-time job settling into this on a weekly basis. Or a doctor or lawyer or someone who probably just wants to veg out on their downtime. But, hey, best of luck to him, Steve thought. Everyone needs a project.