House M.D., Grey’s Anatomy – “The good old series.” Both are medical series, but this is more a coincidence than something to do with my love for the genre. In fact, before these two I don’t really remember watching any medical drama at all. They’re old series that have managed to stay interesting enough throughout the years – the cases in individual episodes are interesting enough and the interpersonal relationships in them keep the long-term commitment easy. And they are the two that I really look forward to each week. Sad but true.

CSI, CSI:New York – The CSIs. CSI: Miami fell off my list at some point by being just damn bad, the two others are managing to stay a bit better. Police procedurals, murder of the week, all that. Easy, watchable, flows by like a river. Doesn’t matter if you do something else while watching them, you’ll still get to find out who did it.

Castle – I’m offering this week’s episode as an example why I’m watching this. 3 minutes into the episode and there has been already a Buffy, Firefly and Underworld references in it. The plots aren’t that imaginative, but character writing is good, plus the actors are great. So, watching it.

Glee, Mercy – The newcomers. Two new series this year that actually are good. Well, Glee is good, Mercy is entertaining. Glee is something like High School Musical, for the people who understand darker comedy. And the music is good.

30 Rock, Fringe, How I Met Your Mother, Dollhouse, NCIS, Greek, Lie to Me, Dexter, Heroes – “They’re not what they used to be.” Things that I’ve enjoyed in the past, but are failing in various ways this year (or maybe even in most of the previous ones, in the case of Heroes). Somehow there are shows that just don’t manage to keep up the pace. These are shows that I might watch if I have the spare time, but most likely just skip them.

All in all, it’s a bit crappy year for me TV-wise. None of the new scifi stuff really got me hooked, a lot of the old has gone down. Did I forget something? And should I be watching something that I’m not?

His bit starts at 2:00, but the introduction part isn’t that bad either. Very nice little speech. The answer “Why aren’t you asking the hundred other guys aren’t” is pretty much the thing that came to my mind as well. And the last answer sums things up. Good stuff.

He discussed the reasons behind the cancellation of the show after only 6 episodes, major reason being how it was a show you had to watch. No, yes, really. A television show that was meant to be watched, failed for that reason. Thing is, average Joe and average Mary come home from work, relax on the couch, turn on the telly and zone out. They don’t zone into television or the surrounding social situation around them, but somewhere in the middle.

Police Squad! being a show where you had to pay attention to both see the hidden jokes and often see where the spoken humour comes from, you’d have to avoid blinking to get it all in the way its creators intended in good faith. No, average Joe and average Mary only pay half attention and need the cued audience laugh backgrounds to remind them to be amused while watching their fave sitcom while chatting on the phone. They need to be told the general gist of things without having to look actively, because they’re talking about how that wallpaper should be painted over. It’s all about not paying attention, as they sit down to be entertained after coming home from work, where they had to pay attention all day. Major point there. It’s a situation they dictate in their own terms, in their own personal surroundings, at their own pace.

Leslie Nielsen also mentioned the size of TV screens, and it’s worth mentioning here even when the home TV sets are growing larger each year. Small screen simply does not support background action. The visual jokes and semi-hidden slapstick moments in Police Squad failed to work on limited screenspace, but those same jokes shot Naked Gun movies into successful franchise. When they were blown up into the size of a damned wall, audience really did see. 

Of course, since The-Cow.net is about games as well, we all should now sit down and confer about the relationship of said observations towards games. On a high level, it’s about immersion. On low level, we’re dabbling with everything that delivers and communicates context and story to the player. It could be those soundscapes filling the room during tabletop RPG session, or carefully chosen backgrounds during dynamic camera edit on console action games, keeping the focus on foreground, or whatever. So, how to know what tricks to use? 

I’m so waddling into Alvanspace here, and it’s creepy in here with all the flotsam eyeballing me up. But here goes..

Let’s take regular tabletop RPG. Players know each other and there’s always off-game chitchat and generally arsing about, unless they’re hardcore system nitpickers everyone hates, but for that same reason, those spoilsports never get to play the really cool games with the really fun people, so we’ll just skip them. Anyways, all that reads as social situation during the play. On the other hand, the players arrived there specifically for the game, so that reads as paying attention since they’re so motivated to bother traveling a bit, et cetera. However, there’s very little for the senses – no visuality, no directly in-situ informative sound cues, no hints of an angry orc through bad smell, or so everyone hopes. All that is delivered to players through spoken narrative, with music etc providing mood in very broad and unintrusive way. Besides the differences in delivery, it’s very much like the average Joe/Mary mindset in front of television. Casual entertainment, if you may.

Console games? More in the cinema end of the spectrum. You go to movies, you end up sitting in darkness with all your attention focused, directed and guided towards the massive silver screen. You won’t miss a beat, and social situation happens before and after the flick. At home, you grab a game pad, holding it in your hands. It becomes a focusing element that keeps reminding you how you’re in control of something, so you concentrate. You use your hands, and that clicks lots of switches in your brain. Your reflexes kick into high gear, adrenaline pumps up and oh boy, your attention is in firm hold. You wiggle your fingers and it all translates directly into visual and aural situation that progresses on and on. That’s the key. You concentrate because you use your hands, the most used tools ever. They’ve been around as long as your brain, and they were the very first thing you ever figured out about yourself. So, in a way, the game connects with you in some scarily direct ways. 

Even if your buddies are there playing with you, social interaction (laughter, remarks, etc) all circle around the game and ongoing events in there. It’s a personal or shared zone, but zone nevertheless. You’re all connected to the game through tactile communication, for lack of better words.

Maybe that’s a big item in the list of questions on how to get tabletop RPGs more immersive. No draconian rules about not SOCIALIZING but PLAYING are needed, but maybe give the players outside influence to steer them into the wanted mindset. Immersion through surroundings is kind of out of question – I can’t imagine getting immersed into the game if there’s a big projector screen with some eerie symbolism flowing around, not to mention wizardly scenes from Harry Potter or whatever. No, RPGs are around the table, and that’s the visual context. Then again, handing the players some orc and elf figurines to fiddle with isn’t going to cut it either. I’m intrigued about involving some tactile immersion here, connecting the certain synapses like the game pad does. Some minimal physical involvement that doesn’t look or feel too out of place around the table. 

However, more I try to come up with something physical, I keep coming short-handed.

Given the realworld situation and surroundings where the game is played, there’s really no extra gadgetry that would help the players to dive into deeper end of world pool. And more I think about it while writing this, more I keep going towards the sounds used in conjunction with stuff happening around the table. Again. But alas, this time it’s much simpler and it will have tactile experience involved in a very important way!

Scenario-time! 

GM lets Joebob know he has a good chance to make a bloody good show with his next attack – but only if the dice rolls for his favour big time. It’s a potential show-off ending to a fierce battle, and even the music is off. Tense silence fills ears. Joebob takes the dice in his hand, aware of everyone watching, and Joebob ..

[GM hits a button hidden under the table, and slow heartbeat-like rumble that goes du-dum, du-DUM, DU-DUM begins to rise up into existence, dominating everything. Lights dim slightly, except the one that is pointed at Joebob and his dice]

.. stops for a second, hair standing up in his neck and wondering how the hell his teeth are clattering, and with a short sweep of his hand, he lets the dice fly. Dice hits the tabletop — and rumble stops right there, as if cut by knife. Dice number is checked, situation releases and then those lights return to normal, too. Game goes on, regardless of outcome. It wasn’t about the outcome in the end – it was the anticipation everyone wanted to play.

So, perhaps we can make the most basic gameplay controller, the humble dice more tactile to us, if we tie different elements to it. It requires some setting up, but hardly impossible for any GM with some dedication and sense of live dramaturgy. Include an event at the begin to set the players into game, and work the arc as you feel, as long as you give the players something to really feel about in the end. Even if one event clicks big time for players, they remember the whole game as very memorable. 

Tie it all together. I dare you.

The time-travel of Heroes is watered down. Zap, someone goes to the future, omg, there’s danger. Then you just blomp* back and yodeloo* the danger away. And then there’s cake. Until the next horrible future is envisioned and then our heroes change it so that it never happens.

The only time I really remember there being some time-travel stuff going on that made my time-travel-fan-sense tingle was when the guy with the stupid face traveled to the future with a cute non-heroics girl and then left the girl there, and changed the future so that he couldn’t travel back to the girl because the timelines had gone all wibbley-wobbley. And that plot was never explored any further. I don’t think stupid face ever mentioned the cute girl ever after that.

*sigh*

* Blomp and yodeloo might not be real words, but they sure as hell describe well what’s going on.

The movie poster, from wikipedia

The movie is based on a book, which in the end turned out to be a trilogy – something that explains the references near the end, where the computer mentions about something being built, that will take five years to complete (the second book of the trilogy takes place five years after the first one) and probably the reason for the very bleak situation it ends with, even if those weren’t exactly uncommon at the time when the movie was filmed. And while the book was published in ’66, which sets some backdrop to the events, I’d like to see the movie more as the product of those later years (69-70).

So it’s interesting how the Soviets are pictured in the movie. Considering that they “just” had invaded Czechoslovakia with their allies, the fact that the biggest atrocities the Soviets commit are exactly the same ones the Americans do (shooting of their own when presented with choice between that or destruction of a whole city), is actually quite endearing. And that both sides use the same, unified tactics to combat the computers brings them to light as not as polarized superpowers, but as simply members of the same human race. The Soviets in the film even don’t do things the way they usually are portrayed in movies like this – behind the backs of the Americans and in effect working against the heroes as their plans backfire. In fact, it’s the Soviets who get to pay the human price before the Americans do, and the viewer gets to feel sympathy towards them with no strings attached.

And there is a lot of that anti-war and unity-between-all sympathy in the movie. For example the president of the USA is pictured as something of a Kennedyesque character who wants to explain things to the public as frankly as possible and who is horrified when he has to explain to them that there’s been a nuclear incident, even if the administration at the time was in the hands of Nixon. And Nixon at the time was the conservative right wing man who approved secret bombings in Vietnam instead of being the president who negotiated the peace there. Also, the crew of scientists the main character is a part of is like the bridge of a Star Trek ship, filled with men, women, white, black, asian alike, with what seems to be equal status. Another nod at the world of man being at least somewhat unified.

But then there’s the language theme that keeps popping up that parallels and mirrors the other questions of unity. Even as all men stand united when they face the technological threat, humans are ineffective because they don’t share a language. This comes up at many points – there is the need of interpreters between the Soviets and the Americans. People keep explaining that their language skills are lacking and others saying that their skills are much better than they were saying. There are conversations that happen in one language that needs to be repeated in the other because there had been someone in the group who didn’t speak the first language. There seem to be moments of misunderstanding when the interpreter is asked to explain things. And so on. Also, the computers don’t speak the same language from the start, but the first thing they do is develop a language they both can use equally well. They are effective. And when humans don’t understand the computers, the computers immediately respond with the language the humans understand – force. Eventually, when they have had time to communicate with their shared language they become one, the ultimate computer. Unity.

The president calls out for a “human millennium” when the movie starts, an age where they may get rid of famine and suffering. And the way to that will be peace through the impersonal guardian computer. The exact same words are later echoed by Unity, who has been working for that very goal, through the subjucation of the human race. Leaving us with the question if the needs of the whole human race are more important than the needs of each member of it.

And in the end, even if we kept asking for the end of war, of a world united as one, a world without suffering, when we’re asked to actually sacrifice our illusion of freedom and love Unity as our master, our defiant answer is “Never”.

Kings @ NBC.com

And The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency is a nice lighthearted detective series with an African flair from BBC and HBO. A dream production company combination if one could ever think of one. The characters are very likable and the mood of the show is quite unlike the typical European/U.S. detective series.

The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency @ BBC.co.uk

A very descriptive quote. It creates vague notions of how it might have happened, what did happen and leaves us curious, and shocked. Evoking empathy and mystery. Very standard event in entertainment industry, yet handled in so many different ways. Most of the time, it emotionally impacts us when we are passive in front of television and let it all wash over us, allowing ourselves to be smothered with scripted-to-detail flow of it.

How on earth do you communicate the emotional magnitudes of such event to a player who sits comfortable on a sofa with a piece of knobby plastic in his hands? Throw blood on screen? Meh. Five-eyed tentacle monsters the size of skyscrapers? Bah. Basic videogame tropes, and they have lost much of their impact. Only games that manage to pull a good left hook on the player are those with something new and plenty of borrowed. Dunno about blue, we really don’t have to go to color grading here.

Do you do it by player character narrative? A voice of the character you’re playing? But it doesn’t sound like you! Are you audience or player character or something in between? It’s a detachment from gameplay in itself. Basic narrative voice? Basic, works, but has to be played beforehand really really well so it won’t become one of those annoying gameplay breaks. You know them, I know you do. Most of the time we get to see a fancy CG clip with near-Hollywood production values. How does that work, then?

“Ah damn you, stupid cutscene,” *clickclickclick* “AND WHY CAN’T I SKIP THE DAMNED arfg meh” *foreheadslap* and off you go, distracting yourself by clicking around a random pornsite in teh intarwebs, ruining your life forever, cocaine, etc.

Developers poured sweat, blood, money, tears, long hours, lost marriages, haggard faces and years worth of therapy sessions to those cutscene / narrative break moments and what do you do? You throw a tantrum, you selfish prick. Have you no heart or sensibility to those starving and homeless? No, wait — it’s not your fault! My apologies. I should have added narrative design to the list of good sacrificial traits us developers have, but then I wouldn’t be writing yet another blogpost that stinks of a bitter lemon a very fat and unpleasant tourist has sat on for hours.

Exhibit B:

Developer conclave, the masters with tallest chairlegs, sits silent under a pendulum axe that swings nigh-on their worried brows.

Lords of their realm are not pleased with their latest offering, the majestic tour de force through worlds imagined by their masterminds, and they have summoned a wrath on their homes. A Mandatum carved in black obelisk has been tossed amids the conclave, and lest they follow it, they will be banished from their realm.

Their gods are gods of coins, and coins they need to create worlds, and worlds they need to create to summon more coins for their gods. Vicious circles surround them, and the Mandatum has words that glow red:

“Sequel must be made, and Sequel must replenish the faith of all who follows us; Sequel will set us up as lords of imagination, and this world will follow us to those we create. Sequel must have thriceworth explosions, ten sacks more guns, and in hearts, it must taste bitter and sorrowful, yet caring and full of springtime hope”

Conclave has banished the scary-speaking and shallow designers, for they were aliens to them. They have new ones, young and snappy and filled to brim with new ideas, yet new ideas worry conclave, who already shit worry-shaped bricks out beneath their lizardly tails.

“How do you, young and snappy and filled to brim with ideas designer minds, would approach this quest? How, shall we reform our words, will you fulfill this bloody Mandatum we have received from the angry skies?”

The new designers, their hats full of their head, with their heads too big for their hats, reply:

“We shall rethink teh whole thought of moving pictures, teh very soundness of it. We will bring you a new prince of emotions, of new pedigree of teh empathy itself!”

The conclave, as if made of one mind and of one body, buries its many heads in its colourless hands, and shits some new bricks.

Designers scurry amidst the trained monkeys, peering over their hairy and scrawny shoulders, asking this and that. They are like mosquitos, sucking a drop of ideas from there, another from elsewhere, and so it goes. They look at the world monkeys are creating, on deeper level than mere head-lines and key-words and idea-boards.  They see the ethereal and surreal and unreal character take his babysteps, reaching out to his buddies amidst the ravages of war, in the torn land. They are empathic creatures, and they are moved.

“Something is here. Something wicked has cometh. Be still, my heart! What is it made of?”
“It is sad. No, it is hopeful, but has not found resolution yet. It is a story in itself. How do we tell teh story with no words like teh words we are written in?”

They confer. They look back at old moving pictures, and see how moving and marvellous they are. Yet, they were not of the same world, in the end – they were of another. Detached.

How to attach them? Something new is needed. Did they not have the world already, a beautiful world that interacts with you, a world that touches you back and reacts when you shoot at it? Their eyes opened up, and they sang a song.

Hi-ho, world is not of heartless  personae-less AI-animatronics;

Hi-ho, world creates the stories it weaves it leaves for us;

The AI-animatronics teh monkeys have bred are teh answer, thus;

[chorus] Me so horny, ahunka-hunka-hunka!

Wait, did I just wander towards context-sensitive AI and world and .. oh, drat. No, forget all that for now. I won’t go there, partly because I still like to entertain the idea of presenting you dear readers with gameplay blogread breaks that possibly annoy you to no end, and if you’re a game developer, you probably deserve it anyways.

So. Cutscenes?

On my part 1 of this probably neverending quest against wrongful cross-use of different storytelling media, I was rather annoyed at how media for passive audience gets treated in media for audience that dictates action and is hardly ever passive. Did I say cutscenes are inherently bad by nature if they are in games? Hell no. They can carry the story forwards, and if they are long and interesting enough, they do turn the player around into passive audience mode. It’s just the introduction and preparation and other cunning juggling of mindgames that gets forgotten, or gets acknowledged with “.. but it’s C priority, look at the schedule and just forget it already.”

Let’s juggle with some ideas. Let’s follow that white C priority rabbit down the hole nobody ever goes.

Traditionally, as mentioned before, cutscenes get slapped in where the transition from place / gameplay event / level to another occurs. It’s introductionary clip, a thematic booster or a plot forwarding device. Nothing wrong with that! It’s external stimulus within the game, as it comes automatically and with no player interaction required. One inherent problem might lay in the natural fact that it’s made to match the game world. It looks the same, it has the same colors and same art direction, even if it has higher production values and better looks than the game itself.

Scenario 1: Marshall Blueberry Got The Twitches

Player trots down an alleyway after clearing it free of giant cockroach combatant drones. It narrows down ahead, but we can see it opens up to a T junction alley between city blocks ahead. Right as the player is about to step to that crossing alley,

something loud and yellow and black and blue screams past his eyes, blurry and totally out of this world. Viewpoint suddenly shoots away, world on screen turns into caricature comic book representation of Your Mind On Cockroach Drugs, with more angles and corners than there can logically be, with colors dancing and the cockroach recon convoy passing our players location, who now is seen curled up in fetal position. We are watching him from high up, as if in astral experience. Loud cacophony fills our ears, wild vivid colors only drugged up demo coders can come up with fill our eyes, and with a quietness that comes so fast it sounds like a bang,

everything returns normal. Black frame or two on screen, regular colors of the world fill our view, everything is 90 degrees tilted. Your character is still on the ground, and you SO did not expect that moment. Oh, right, there was some gas tossed your way during the last skirmish..

Yet, cutscene it was. Thematic, maybe – or if the convoy had some wild caricatures of doomsday machines being transported, it could have been a plot forwarder as well. With good luck, it left the player eager to move along and figure out (allowed to figure out, really) what those drugged up, psychedelic hallucinations actually meant. And most importantly, it threw the player off the safe stand, reinvigorating him. It gave him something fresh to chew. It’s a game, you can go ahead and run with scissors at hand!

It doesn’t have to be the same static looking world you live in, you bitter monkeys.

Scenario 2: TVTropes edition!

Player trots down a grey alleyway after clearing it free .. you know. The same basic premise, right? Just as our hero is about to put his foot into the alleyway, we snag the viewpoint with a reflex snap towards right, where a BLOODY HUGE MASSIVE CRAB TANK AIEE–
(cue War Bonds Are Good For You -jingle and video reminder)
Hello folks, have you been feeling downwards lately? Have you not considered – or have you considered, but never dared to try the radio-activital water enhancer? With pellets of pure uranium carefully hand-casted into cement base, you only dip our Radium-O into your water tank and it will be filled with reinvigorating, life-energy boosting ATOMS OF THE FUTURE for you to drink! Available now from Lol-Mart!
(cue War Bonds Are Good For You -jingle and video reminder. “Returning to live action now!”)
–we snag the viewpoint with a reflex snap towards right, where a BLOODY HUGE MASSIVE CRAB TANK AIEE is shooting past your eyes and oh shit that’s big, those are hardened orbital bunker buster nukes on that platform, and oh wow I’ll just wait this one out, I know I’m gonna run into these baddies again–

And so on. Player is very, very used to all kinds of media. He watches television and movies. Television more than movies. He probably has watched television more than he has played games. He bloody well grew up with it. It was his nanny when he was a toddler. We took a step out of the box only to find old familiar things in new context, but somehow, as it was all so very familiar, it didn’t annoy .. And it was part of that world! Atomic age, with gigantic cockroaches with nukes that go to orbit. Cutscene itself did not serve gameplay function, other than slip a bookmark into the players memory about what he’s done and seen before. He’ll remember that moment, and that’s depth in itself, in a world filled with cliches seen bazillion times.

So maybe it wasn’t exactly out of the box. Maybe it was more like beating and kicking the box into different shape, but it doesn’t matter. Only as long as you can see the box, tiptoe around it, have some whacks at it and generally see ways to make things that go into the box and out again, you should be fine.

- If it’s a radically different cutscene, make it radically fast change because it’s not in balance with regular gameworld.

- If it looks like the ordinary gameworld, present it in much slower fashion as it’s heavily balanced. As mentioned, unbalanced you can whack into the weirdwoods as hard as you can, and it’ll be better for it.

Scenario 3: Daily grind

Our hero is about to embark on the crossing alley, and world pauses for split second. You hear DVD whirring to life. Screen comes back alive, but from a different viewpoint. There’s a big-ass tank-like monster with chipped armour, viewed from almost ground level to emphasize the big guns and bolts and stuff covering it. Lots of shiny bits, flares, DOF tricks with camera that shakes and rattles. A tank tread rolls menacingly towards the camera, which cuts to another angle right when the heavy metal descends on it. We’re shown the full size of convoy now, from aerial perspective. Sound is muffled, a cloud drifts under the camera to further emphasize scale. It’s all very movie-looking.
Cut back to player viewpoint, with player control. If he walks now, he’ll die under the machines. So he waits, watching. Pre-scripted convoy doesn’t care about him, its only function is to hint at future developments of this world war against bloody big insects with guns.

Sound familiar? I won’t even go there anymore, lest this blog gets banned from teh intarwebs for all the cursing.

Traditionally we suffer from too much safety, stay too sheltered and make familiar decisions. Things end up too “financially sound” and “marketable” and “it’s what others do so it’s what players want”. There’s no need to make the whole game artistically different and clever and celshaded whatnot with “unique art direction” with “extravagantly brave colours”. Just include the salt that goes on top of the same goo others are cooking. Little pinch is enough to remind people of the proper flavors.

There’s so much more to be said, regarding generally descriptive moments inserted in the middle of gameplay et cetera, but this is already bordering on too long post. I do smell the part 3 coming in nearish future, possibly with the notion of fading the cutscenes transparent to the player, or something. Until then, do leave comments if you have anything to add or argue.

It was a nice movie. People have complained about the fight scenes and the sex scenes being too long, but I didn’t think so, even if the whole movie was a bit on the long side. I think they both brought out the physicality and reality of the needs these people had, even if they donned on masks and set out to fight justice. Especially how brutal the violence got when it got rolling. It brought the question of the characters’ sanity much better to the surface (The lovers switching approving glances while breaking thugs’ arms and legs) and kept the viewer nicely reminded that this is not a Superman or X-Men movie where violence is more fun and games for all.

The casting was top-notch down to Nixon.

The huge blue smurf … manifestation… that was such a huge deal was pretty natural in the end and didn’t at least bother the flow of the film. As said, the sexuality in the movie was quite apparent a lot, but we are talking about people who dress up in rubber suits, so it’s to be expected.

And the ending. The controversial ending with no squid. It worked for me. The squid would have made the movie a bit less serious – this way it still filled the needs of the story, while fully focusing on the characters. While in the comic (with the pirate story-within-a-story and whatnot else), the presence of yet another major character (the squid) is easy to do, it was better to focus on what was there. The five Watchmen.

Addendum, Monday, 2nd March:

Well, getting a good night’s sleep took quite long thanks to migranes and other stuff. The season finale was very solid and my fears of it being about asskickery were unfounded. A very solid, human view of everything that has been building up.

The tension in the episode was built perfectly, and I can’t remember where I had been stuck on the edge of my seat and wonder how things work out in the end. The thing about Brit shows I love compared to the ones perfectly thought out by the Hollywood machine, is that sometimes, the way things turn out aren’t the obvious ones. So the tension is there. Also, awesome dialogue everywhere, favorite being the line “Well, congratulations on mastering the whole speaking-like-a-tw_t thing” that conjured whole stacks Buffy flashbacks. Also enjoyed how, when the series had mostly focused on exploring humanity by giving us human characters, really reveled in the supernatural aspect, comparing one monster against another. Trying to find where the lines of being human lied when there aren’t that many real humans around.

I’ll probably be writing at least one more piece on Being Human once the DVD set arrives in late April and I’ve had a chance to rewatch the series, which means somewhere around May.

There are soundtracks of wonderful music that guide our thoughts and there are sounds that do that as well, forming a soundscape of the environment we’re in. The big difference between a soundtrack and a soundscape when talking of things like movies or RPGs is that the soundscape, the world of sound effects, is something that exists on the diegetic level instead of the extradiegetic world of the typical soundtrack. These fancy words mean that you can assume that the characters of the story are hearing the soundscape, whereas usually a soundtrack is there only for the audience of the story, not audible to the characters inside the story (exceptions exist, of course).

Now, a well-designed soundscape is something that’s very common (one could say, a necessity) in television and movies, somewhat common in video games but pretty rare in RPGs. At least any I’ve participated in. The two things that have come in the way, to be honest, are the amount of preparation of using sound effects compared to music, and the technology that has been evading the typical game master.

Building a proper soundscape for a roleplaying session isn’t as easy as one might think. In movies and television, you don’t need to think of the lasting aspect of your sounds. The scenes will linger in environments for a few moments so you can think very nicely what exact sounds you need and time them to the millisecond. When you’re playing games like Half-Life or Left 4 Dead, the sounds around you get generated by the computer in response to your actions, the actions and presence of other entities, and randomized from a pre-generated pool of environmental sounds to create the needed effect.

In tabletop RPGs, neither approach is fully usable. Compared to TV, there is no guarantees how long a scene lasts, as all description of action is done as speech and there is a factor of the actors having a say to what happens. You might think a warehouse scene lasts for 5 minutes tops, but your players might spend 10 minutes with their characters at the warehouse, or they might take an hour. Having the same 10 minute planned soundscape loop six times gets annoying really soon, especially if the selected sounds are there to provoke a response. They not only lose their effect, but they will turn it against you as the immersion gets broken – suddenly (gasp) the same creepy footsteps are heard for the third time. As they are present on the character level, they will get ridiculed on the character level. Or you will have to explain that they are not part of the diegetic level anymore.

Computer games give a bit better starting point – a video game’s sound director can’t go about thinking beforehand that it takes 5 minutes, 32 seconds for a player to complete the level. He has to build a generic sound base that will give the player a feel of the environment, without invoking specific action. He avoids the repetition by adding some computerized randomization to the base sound pattern and of course avoiding sounds that would require a response from the player on this base-track. Then he moves forward, having something on his side that a standard GM doesn’t – he can combine the sounds with the triggers from specific events beforehand, so that they play when someone fires a shotgun or walks on a metal floor or topples a pile of cans by accident. Or even when the player is approaching a certain situation or location on the map. Automated responses to the actors, and to be honest, the most realistic soundscapes stem from that.

For a RPG soundscape, like for a soundtrack, you’d pretty much need that base that you can play while there is nothing interesting happening. As a soundscape can be assumed to be heard by the characters as well as the players, it requires more attention than a soundtrack. This base-scape will be playing a lot in a campaign, so it would have to be extremely long to avoid the feeling of repetition. In fact, you’ll need a few extremely long, different bases when you’re building a campaign – there will be various situations that need a somewhat distinctive feel attached to them. Besides those you’ll need other sounds. Sadly, what you can’t really do, is to have sounds for the actions that the players have their characters do – you can’t have a sound-effect for every one of their actions as you have no clue what those actions might be. And even if you did, you’d be always firing the sounds of only after the action has happened on the diegetic level, so there will be unnecessary redundancy that doesn’t especially benefit anyone. And in my opinion, most of the sounds made by other actors should be left to imagination and description as well “you hear the approaching footsteps of the scientists returning from their break”, “the guard accidentally drops his soda can on the floor and curses” as you will need to provide the players with information like where the sound came from and in most cases who was making it. On the other hand, using audio samples to play when something breaks the standard ambiance, yet wouldn’t benefit much from emphasizing on it on the level of the story, would work. A strange sound, a scream, a roar, the sound of thunder approaching that would gradually turn into the base sound once the thunderstorm is upon you. Things that predate actual action or are there just as sounds, nothing more. Yet. Echos of the future.

On practical side, for campaign play, I’d probably start building the base soundscape myself from scratch instead of using something fully made beforehand by someone else. Even if getting quality sounds for free can get tedious, it becomes much more personal and the feel is less hectic if you take time to manipulate the material to fit your needs. There are good services like YLE’s Tehosto around that can get you started, but the samples you get from one source are usually too short to be used on their own, so you need to look around the internet to find enough sound bits. And even when you have enough material to fill a nice long soundscape, you’ll notice that when you start mixing from sources, the difference in quality and style can sometimes be audible. And you will end up ditching a good portion of the sounds you have, eventually needing a lot more sounds. If you want to be really personal, you can record a sound from some place by yourself. Getting a good enough microphone to be able to record the ambiance of an environment on your own might be a very costly task, unless you have friends in high places who can borrow or rent you one. But recording an hour-long thunderstorm will really pay off if you use it on the background in a game – it will sound a lot less cheesy than something you stole from a sound effect box. Once you have a large enough library of sounds to play on the base, you compile them together with some sort of a tracker program, I suppose. I haven’t done that stuff since the 90′s, to there might be better ways to do it these days.

For the specific sounds that get played, you’ll need some form of a mixing software that allows you to play multiple tracks at the same time. – a somewhat affordable solution is Virtual DJ Studio, that offers a very nice, fully working trial version for you to toy around with while you wonder if you want to use it. Then just line up the effects you want to play next to your base track and slide them in when it is their time. And there you go, a soundscape. I can imagine it working very well in horror scenarios, where the players are already on the edge of their seats because of the story.

As a counterpoint to all of this, I must admit that I love using a non-story level soundtrack on the background of RPG sessions – partly because I takes a part of the pressure off from me if I try to get the game going toward a certain mood, and mostly because I love toying between the story-level and the storytelling-level of the game. You can create a lot more contrasts with music than you can do with stuff that exists on all levels of play. Using music on the other hand allows you to stop using music, which on its own can be very very effective (as Buffy the Vampire Slayer has taught us). Doing a full campaign where the ambience was fully created with sound-effects is something I probably would never do, but using some ideas from this post might eventually creep into the games.