Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

The Dormouse takes control in the LARP room

I was there, in particular, to see one of their events, Ninja, Monkey, Robot, Pirate, which I gathered would be similar to the panel of the same name run at Philcon 2006. It was the first time I'd ever had the chance to watch one of the LARP events.

Basically, the event was supposed to be a panel where four people, chosen from the audience, would advocate for ninjas, monkeys, robots or pirates, with a host who would moderate the discussion and take questions from the audience.

When I arrived, both The Dormouse and The Cheshire Cat were surrounded by LARPers, which allowed me to get a good action shot of The Dormouse. The Cheshire Cat, on the other hand, was actually not acting as a GM but was doing some work with character sheets and the like on the computer. Therefore, he put this sign up.

Then, when LARPers came up to him with game related questions, he just smiled and pointed at the sign.

The event got started about 10 minutes late, when an assistant GM announced that everybody interested in the event should follow her out into the hallway.

Meanwhile, another assistant GM had given me a piece of paper that said it was a delicious-smelling piece of bread. I stuck it in my extra badge holder, the one that held the card declaring me Bruce Theron.

As I gathered with the group, everyone kept looking at my badge, trying to figure out who I was playing. I had to keep explaining that I was a staffer and wasn't actually playing.

The assistant GM moved us to a quieter part of the lobby, near some escalators. She explained the event and picked four volunteers to advocate for the different categories. I snapped a picture as we were getting ready.

Already, I could see this was a spirited group. One of them, in particular, was talking with a really funny accent. It turned out he was playing a French clown. He also had a particularly entertaining sense of humor.

The assistant GM was losing her voice and therefore asked for a volunteer to serve as the moderator. I put up my hand immediately and, perhaps noticing that I was a staffer, she chose me over a couple other volunteers. She explained again the concept to me, and I assured her I'd have no problems. Not only had I gone to a similar panel at Philcon, but it was very similar to the improv theater game, Expert Panel.

She wanted me to be a "William F. Buckley" type, so I assumed a stuffy British accent and introduced myself as Drusilla Stodgington. Holding out an invisible microphone to each of the panelists in turn, I had them introduce themselves and then make the best argument for the group they were defending.

The assistant GM got some great pics of me in action.

The panelists defending ninjas argued that they were the best because they were so skilled in battle. He definitely seemed to be taking it the most seriously. The panelist defending monkeys said they were the best because they were related to us. He got very metaphysical in his answers, which probably made sense for his character, which I guessed was a more thoughtful sort of character.

The guy advocating for computers was extremely tall, close to 7 foot, I'd guess. He'd come prepared with a notebook that had in it some pre-written responses, such as a smiley or an exclamation point. He also spoke in English, as he did in his initial argument, which he punctuated with a graphics card. The person advocating for pirates seemed to be more of a giddy schoolgirl type. She said pirates were the best because they were cool.

I asked them one other question and then turned it over to the audience, who asked them some very nonsensical questions, which I think were probably in character.

For example, one of them quibbled with the answer about monkeys being related to humans and said that humans were created by God. So this led to a very philosophical discussion, where I asked each of the contestants whether their group believed in God. I realized this was getting into dangerous territory, though, and we moved on to lighter questions.

One of the audience members was apparently looking for people who could join them on a quest that involved singing, and they asked the pirate advocate if she could sing. She claimed she could, so I asked her to demonstrate. The other panelists began spontaneous beat-boxing and she sort of meowed to the music, leaving me to believe she was playing a cat girl.

Unforgivably, I said, "The answer seems to be that she can't sing but she can caterwaul." What a groaner! I kept a stiff upper lip, however.

After another couple of questions, one of the audience members stood up and announced that he was using his military authority to shut down the proceedings and arrest all the pirates who were present in the studio. About half of the audience members stood up to leave.

I, however, attempted to regain control of my show, demanding that everyone "put your posteriors back in your seats."

The assistant GM stepped in and put a hold on the action until the military officer and I could battle it out, rock-paper-scissors style, which I lost rather pathetically. But hey, I never had any military training. He also had to go up against one other person before it was determined he could shut all exits and that military police would be marching in to make arrests.

Just then, the assistant GM announced that an explosion had gone off in the room and I, in character, fled, muttering that they didn't pay me enough for this. The assistant GM told me I'd done a great job.

I hadn't expected it to end the way it did, which was a lot more fun than what I'd been expecting. I was quite pleased with how it went. So pleased, in fact, that I went back to the main LARP room, did a little happy dance and announced to the Dormouse and The Cheshire Cat, "I was an NPC. I was an NPC." NPC being, of course, non-player character, which is typically a character played by either a GM or an assistant GM for the purposes of moving action along.

After my little LARP adventure, I met up with The Gryphon and we walked around a little bit. Then I took my leave of him, because I wanted to see a panel that was supposed to take place at 10 p.m., called "How to Become a Ninja in an Hour". We'd been joking around about it in Press Relations, and I thought it sounded like fun.

So I slipped into the back of the room and took a seat against the wall, when it dawned on me the people at the front of the room were talking about how to attract more people to their anime fan clubs.

"Wait a minute. You're not ninjas!" I screamed internally and quietly slipped out of the room. Turns out the panel had been rescheduled for 8 p.m. Saturday night, when I wouldn't be able to see it.

Back in Con Ops, I ran into the vice president, Captain No-Pants, and told him about my frustration with the panel rescheduling. I told him how I'd wanted to stand up and scream, "You're not ninjas!"

He laughed. Then, seeing in the corner the Godzilla costume that The Bhoo wears as part of his crowd entertainment duties, he offered to pay me $15 to put the suit on and rampage through the panel, screaming, "You're not ninjas!"

If I'd been even more sleep deprived, or if he'd offered more money, I might have considered it, but I still had enough brain cells to realize this was a bad idea.

I did, however, get silly with our chief of staff, Mistress Chimera, who helped me stage a very silly photo with some leftover signs from the Otakurave. In case you're wondering, the Preparation H wipes came from the staff support room.

By then, I was getting pretty tired, and The Gryphon was basically done with his work for the day, so we walked back to our hotel, stopping in the bar for a drink and to tell each other about our days.

More on Alyce's Otakon Experiences:

Musings on Alyce's Otakon Experiences

Copyright 2006 by Alyce Wilson

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