Untitled

Growing up, the kids all used to tell tales of an old hermit that lived in the woods. They would spend hours in search of his house, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled old man of the woods. Sometimes, they would see a candle flickering from inside, shadows cast onto the curtains by a figure moving inside.

It was rarer still to ever meet him.

I Once did.

You see, he didn’t like to have company or talk. He disliked the bustle of the town nearby, with nosy neighbors asking too many questions and prying into his business. So he hid away and would avoid conversation.

So how did I get so lucky?

Well, legend has it you have to bring an offering to him. Coins, a new home for his snail, or even supplies to fix his home. You set these out, and then just sit in silence. You may wait minutes, or hours, or even days, but eventually, as long as you are silent, he will come.

During your vigil, the weather often stays nice and the animals leave you be. Even the bugs don’t bug you.

So I sat in silence. I listened to the sound of the forest, the pulse it had, and its beauty. I saw the potential of the land, and what it could grow into.

After 3 days he came and sat by me. I didn’t dare speak, for I knew that would only drive him away. Instead, I continued to listen. I slid the coins in his direction and he started to speak.

“A long time ago, I sought adventure and danger. I was connected to the forest, the secrets held within, and the animals that called it home. I moved as one with them, driving out the darkness in hopes of stopping the corruption.”

He falls silent again and wait a bit, listening to the rhythm of the forest around me before sliding the snail shell over to him. He continued “My deeds earned recognition, and I soon found myself in service to the king. I would protect his forests, patrolling for corrupted beasts or restoring areas milled for resources. I was in service to the crown for several human lifetimes. I watched the title pass from parent to child, and with each passing, a darkness crept in.”

His pause had weight to it this time as if he was sad or burdened by the thought. I let us sit there at that moment, allowing that weight to pass to me, giving him room to breathe to continue his story. “That darkness took its toll upon the land. It was during one of my routine patrols that I stumbled into the feywild. There, I found a glen, where I rested. It only felt like minutes had passed. I felt a rumble through the ground, and footsteps grew closer. I hid behind a tree and waited, but the sound had stopped. It was at that very moment I realized the tree I hid behind was actually a leg.

The creature stood as high as the Keep at the castle, its eyes turned upon me, considering me for what felt like forever. It finally spoke to me ‘Guardian. You watch over us, protect our sleeping kin. If you swear loyalty to me, I will grant you the power to protect the land you love. You need not forget your previous skills, for they are what brought you here in the first place.’ The creature then bent low and I thought it might snap, but a branch extended toward me, a single twig held out for me. When I grabbed it, the twig turned into a sword in my hands. ‘Carry my sword and you will have the ability to wield my power. When you speak, you will speak for me and my kin. You are an extension of us, and we an extension of you. Do not forget that power goes both ways. Go back. Teach them to be better, to protect the wilds.’

His face sank then as if remembering something painful. The silence this time stretched for several hours, watching the sky turn colors and stars come out. This time, he reached for my final offering, some nails to help repair his home.

“The land I came back to was changed. No more forests, no wild animals, no sprawling green. A long road was cut through the first I once called home dotted with travelers, none of whom were dressed in any familiar fashion. I had only been gone for an hour, maybe 2 total, how had all of this changed so much?”

“Horrified and confused, I made my way to the castle, only to be stopped by guards donning the tabard of an unknown regency. I forced my way to the throne room and found a face unfamiliar in all but the eyes. The one who sat upon the throne knew of my name, that there were stories told of me. I had been gone for over a century.”

He paused again, but only for a brief moment. That moment still felt heavy upon my mind, and never lifted from it as he continued. “I was angry. Confused. I knew not what had happened. I was only gone for a few hours, yet a century passed by. Everything I cared about was dust, buried under the roadways and housing. I had nothing. I think that is why I did what I did. In my fury, I drew the twig from my pouch and it turned into a blade, vines twisting around it. I plunged the blade into the king's throat, and not even a gargle came from his lips. Before any of the guards could even come, I took his body and placed it in the central courtyard. I shouted to the gods and the spirits and the patrons and challenged them. I threatened that if they ever took what was mine, they would end the same. As the king's blood seeped into the ground, a flurry of wild growth sprung out. Vines, trees, and flowers sprawled, overtaking the castle and houses. Everything that had changed while I was gone transformed into a dense forest. Wildlife started to call out, defiant and deadly. Quickly, those that had made their homes on my land quickly left, leaving me to my own devices. And that is where we are now. You are looking at a land untouched by man for centuries.”

He stands then, and the enormity of his power resonates around me. “So tell me, why have you actually come here?”

My voice is shaky as I answer “I care. I care about this forest, these animals. I care about your story. And I want to help. But I have a question. What is your name?”

Resources For White People In Regards To Race

The events all across the world have shown that there is a systematic problem occurring in the United States and one that is extremely uncomfortable to talk about. A lot of us (white people) are turning to our black friends for guidance. Many of them are emotionally drained and may not have the desire to do the work of educating you. That is emotional labor they don’t need right now. 

So, I’ve taken the time and done some of the research for you. Several of these books I’ve listened to myself (I do audiobooks), others I have researched. Please take a look at them and use the links provided for purchase. All of the links are from black-owned online bookstores. There is a more comprehensive list of shops online that I used down below. 

And as always, listen to your black friends. If they recommend something, post something, or try to have a conversation about something, listen. Shut up and listen. Because it isn’t your time to speak. It is your time to listen, learn, and better yourself. 

So You Want To Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo 

This is a fantastic book on how to talk about racism, what it is in a given context, and provides conversations for everyone on how to deal with it. It gives you the language to use as an ally and explains why some terminology can be problematic. 

White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard For White People To Talk About Racism by Robin DiAngelo, Michael Eric Dyson

This is written from the perspective of black Americans but the points are very important. It talks about why white people are very defensive over race issues and constructive engagement. Having that perspective is important in learning how to be a better ally. 

Black Labor, White Wealth by Dr. Claude Anderson

This book tracks the history of Jim Crow laws, slavery, and black labor used to build up the current establishment we now have. It gives an important historical context to the issues we face today. 

How To Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

How To Be An Antiracist is a great work on looking at yourself critically and examining your thoughts, words, and actions, and what we have to do to overcome them. It helps us find our place in building an antiracist society. 

Don’t Touch My Hair by Sharee Miller 

This is a children’s book, but it provides a very important point in this. Black people have their hair touched in many different ways daily, and most of it is non-consensual. Hair has long been used as a form of oppression and control, and that needs to stop. Honestly? This book is a great stepping stone for learning about the history of hair oppression and why it is problematic. Black hair is beautiful, but not for yours to touch. 

Further Reading: BB - How Does Black Hair Reflect History 

For Teachers: Decolonize your classroom! 

This is an important one and something that a lot of teachers, parents, and administrators don’t even realize is happening in their classrooms. The way classrooms and curriculum are set up is also a form of educational oppression. It does not accommodate for the racial differences in children, learning styles, home lives, or cultural values. If you’ve ever read the history of the Mayflower, slavery, the Trail of Tears, or Japanese Internment Camps in most curriculums, it is incredibly cringy. Teachers need to take responsibility and look with a critical eye at their classes, how they teach, and what visual signals they have that may be problematic. 

All links to these bookstores were found on AfroTech. Please follow the link and support those bookstores online. AfroTech is extremely informative and filled with a lot of resources. 

(CW Suicide)

Feeding never came naturally to Hex, and they stumbled through the motions every time. Tonight was no different.

The young man Hex spotted was inebriated and they easily followed. Eventually, the crowd had thinned out and it was just Hex and the young man on the sidewalk. The man seemed to be in good spirits as Hex moved closer.

‘Hey,’ his words were spurred as he noticed Hex next to them, ‘you seem pretty awesome. I like your coat.’

Hex smiles and looked at the black trench coat covered in patches, ‘Thanks. Did you need some help walking home?’

’Maybe. I’m not sure I want to go home yet. It’s too quiet there.’

Hex nodded ‘Fair. I’ll leave you be.’ And they turned to leave, turning on their charms and catching the mans eye.

’No, please don’t. Let’s just walk for a while.’ The man said ‘My name’s Cody, what’s yours?’

’Hex,’ they reply. ‘Wanna head to the river?’

The man nods and the two walk in silence for a while. Cody breaks the silence ‘I don’t drink often. I had an off day and wanted to blow off steam. I’ve been in a bit of a low point recently.’

Hex nods awkwardly ‘I understand that feeling all too well. You are welcome to vent to a stranger if you need.’

Cody falls silent again for a few minutes until they reach the river banks. ‘I’ve come to this river many time to sit and think. About my life, my failures, how I’ve disappointed everyone I’ve ever cared about. And I think about what it is like to drown.’

’Dying sucks, Cody. Take it from me. You don’t want to do it.’ Hex felt very inadequate at that moment, not knowing what to say.

‘Does it really though? I don’t have the strength to do it anyway. I never had. But….but maybe you could?’

Hex’s whole body stiffened ‘Cody…are you asking me to kill you?’

’I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be asking a stranger. You just seemed like someone death would listen too.’

Hex snorted ‘Death and I have a complicated relationship.’ Hex grabbed Cody’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Let’s keep walking, get away from this dark place for you.’

The pair walked through the streets with Cody leading and they eventually ended up in front of Cody’s apartments. Hex made sure Cody was headed inside, then made their way across the street to sit and watch.

Thirty minutes later, Cody came back out and started walking back to the river. Hex followed behind out of sight, making sure their eye was always on the troubled man. But Cody never made it to the river bank. A larger masked person came from behind and hit Cody in the head, knocking him unconscious. As the man went through Cody’s pockets, Hex came out from the shadows, rage fueling their actions.

As Hex quickly closed the gap, time seemed to stop. Hex could see their hands reaching out to grab the assailant and knew this man would be crushed.

But did Hex have to kill him? They could very easily let this man go and just scare them away. Why was Hex reacting this way over a stranger?

Life or death. In this moment, Hex had a choice. Or they liked to think they had a choice.

But Hex’s beast had plans, and it roared to life and the mans head rotated unnaturally. Hex fell with the body, feeding off him before the blood grew too cold.

The river wasn’t far, and it was dark out still, so nobody saw the body splash into the river.

Hex went back over to Cody and easily picked them up. They made their way back to Cody’s apartment, where Hex made sure Cody stayed awake in case he had a concussion.

Charmaine was very pretty and Hex had a bit of a crush on her. They knew none of what they felt was actually chemical, but rather the human part of their brain telling them she was someone who they would have found attractive when they were alive. Or it could have been the fact that she was a Toreador, and they had the power to make others feel things they didn’t normally feel.

Sometimes it made Hex uncomfortable, but only once they thought back on it.

When Charmaine asked for Hex’s help, they were happy to oblige. After all, it was a good way to earn favor in the Camarilla.

“My contact has gone missing. She used to work in a gallery off Royal Street and she was very talented. I need to know what happened to her. Would you be willing to help? I would consider it a favor owed.” Her southern drawl was like candy to Hex and they couldn’t tell if it was their own brain or her abilities that made them feel this way, but they agreed all too quickly and without question.

The shop was closed up for the night, something a lot of businesses on Royal Street didn’t actually do. Since it was one street down from Bourbon, they tended to get a lot of drunk walking traffic, so impulse buying was very popular. Thankfully Charmaine had a key to get in.

“So, it looks like they just locked up and left. I don’t know what to tell you Charmaine.” Hex was certain there was nobody inside. “Let me go take a look around quick and see.” Hex was comfortable sneaking around and was confident they were not seen by any onlookers or cameras in the building.

Hex lurked their way into the back employee area and peeked around a corner. The brief glimpse of the hand laying on the ground caught Hex off guard for a second. A glance into the room told Hex a very interesting story indeed. Charmaine was there alright, and she was not moving.

Hex moved closer and could see she was already dead, her skin wrinkled and pale, a sign she had been drained of her blood. As Hex knelt down next to the woman, they laid their hand on the body and said a quick blessing for the spirit.

As Hex finished up, a piercing scream filled the air as Charmaine walked into the room. “You!” her shrill voice carried through the building “You killed her! I trusted you and this is how you repay me?” her fangs shown now, and her once beautiful face barely contained the beast that ate away at her soul. “You killed her. You killed my friend! You violated my business and my domain!”

Hex jumped up “Wait, what? Charmaine, you wanted me to help you, remember?” Hex could barely get the words out before the Sheriff came into the room. “Hex, step away from the body.”

Shaking and confused, Hex stood up “Sheriff, I didn’t do anything. She was already dead.”

Charmaine continued to cause a scene, accusing Hex of breaking into the property and killing this woman by draining her. She even went so far as to say Hex was trying to embrace the woman as she walked in, which was amusing to Hex for many reasons. The Sheriff, not wanting to have Charmaine continue to raise hell and possibly draw any unwanted attention, took Hex into custody.

As Hex left, a smirk was playing on Charmaine’s lips. She played Hex, and like the fool they are, they walked right into it.

The Sheriff got into the back of the car with Hex and the driver started off with them. “Are you going to kill me?” Hex wondered out loud.

“No, that bitch of a Toreador is trying to make a power play against you. She cashed in some boons to get this set up, the Harpy told me, since I held boons over him. Luckily for you, my name holds more weight than that petty upstart of a wannabe.” Hex snorted and the Sheriff looked on amused. “I can’t make this go away. But I may be able to introduce you to someone who could help you turn this around on Charmaine. It’s a long game, but if you want to learn how to play to win, this is how you do it.”

Hex nodded slowly “What do I have to do?”

“Listen. Learn. Do exactly what you are told, and know that if you mess up and things go south, I can’t catch you. But, I think this person will be able to.”

The car slowed to a stop in front of a club, strobe lights blinking in the windows and figures of shadowed dancers briefly flashing in between. The effect made the dancers seem to appear in random places in the windows. The music could be heard down the street and was overwhelming for Hex.

The Sheriff had the car stop around the corner. “I can’t go in there with you. I need to go to the Prince with my findings. You will be summoned to court tomorrow, so come dressed to impress, not like some ragamuffin. You will want to find Maman Avicii.” The Sheriff opened the door and ushered Hex out into the street.

Hex wasn’t sure if they could trust the Sheriff. Were they being played twice in one night? Was this really the end for them?

The music was deafening and Hex had to focus to keep from being overwhelmed by it. When they walked to the bouncer who was checking ID’s, they asked to see Maman Avicii. The bouncer gave a sad smile and shook his head in a way that suggested Hex was in a lot of trouble. He was lead into the back area up a set of stairs that lead to a rooftop. The bouncer only followed to the base of the staircase and left Hex to climb it alone themselves.

The sticky night air felt good to Hex, who was overwhelmed with the smell of sweat and bodily fluids from the club, and the music was now just a din. Hex stepped into one of the most beautiful gardens they had ever seen in the city, and definitely never on a rooftop.

The woman at the top of the staircase was beautiful and haunting. Her dark skin was contrasted by the bone that was chained around her body like jewels. Her head was shaved and she had tattoos covering her body. She spoke, her smooth voice was gentle and soft.

Hex always saw the sun as an oppressive force, forcing those under it into submission with heat and pain, so the loss of it was no big issue. Hex listened to other vampires wax on and on about how much they missed the sun and how it felt upon their skin, but Hex never had any sympathy for them. Everyone was enslaved by the rays of sunlight, they just didn’t know it yet.

Hex saw themselves as being contained now, rather than forced into submission. The night was a box that kept Hex safe, protecting them from becoming a slave. Even the city itself felt the same. Sure tourism was strong in New Orleans during the day, but the city never felt more alive than at night, when the air was slightly cooler and being outside wasn’t as dangerous.

When Hex was first turned, they did not realize the extent to which the sun harmed them, and it was fatal. Hex had tried to continue to live with their family, since they were still in college. Hex didn’t want to lose their family and was naive, like every new vampire, a lesson that was hard learned.

Hex had been sleeping in their room when their brother, Samael, opened the door and tried to wake them to go out on a shopping trip. The beam of light struck Hex across their arm with a hiss and the world turned red.

When other colors started to come back, Hex was covered in blood, their skin bubbling in the areas the sunlight had touched them, the body of their brother laying on the bed, bleeding out. It was dark outside now, the sun long gone.

Hex tried to stop the bleeding, but it was too late, and Hex was too young to know how to make another vampire. Their sire had warned them this would happen, and Hex had insisted they would be fine. They slowly realized they had also fed from Samael and Hex started to feel sick.

Blood splattered on the top of Hex’s shoe from the tears seeping down their face. Wiping them up was a hopeless endeavor with the amount of blood in the room. There was only one thing they could do.

Run.

Run until they couldn’t run any further.

Hex ran to the ocean shore, the light from the moon rippling on the waves as steam liners traveled to the dock yards. They couldn’t return to their old life any further, not after what happened.

Hex woke to the sound of the church bells ringing. The light was shining just enough where they could tell it was getting close to sundown. Hex was groggy and didn’t want to get moving too early, otherwise, they would be stuck inside, unable to do anything.

Listening again to the bells, Hex suddenly realized they were not the normal church bells that rang out in the night. These were the bells of years ago, the night of the fire that swept through New Orleans and destroyed most of it.

‘Shit'

They quickly move through their haven getting ready for the night, even though a fresh change of clothes was all they really needed. Their space was small, a rental apartment on the top floor of the house, a place where they could have some privacy. The landlord did not enter the apartment without asking first, and Hex always paid rent on time, so no need to worry about what happened up there. Hex kept a small altar where they would keep their offerings. They kept blackout curtains in the windows and the door was decently locked. It wasn’t going to keep out someone if they really wanted to get in, but most break-ins happened at night, so Hex was fairly comfortable they were safe.

Think of a time when you might have said something or acted in a way that hurt someone you cared deeply about. Did you feel bad for doing it? Did you talk to the person you hurt? Did you try to do better next time so that you wouldn’t cause that pain to them? 

The ability to understand and share the feelings of others is called empathy, and that is a huge part of Social-Emotional Learning or SEL. SEL is currently a huge talking point for education but has been a part of adult therapy for many years. SEL needs to be taught at an early age, but also needs to be continued throughout a person’s lifetime. Those who are lacking in SEL skills will lack empathy toward others, fail to recognize their actions and the impact it may have on others, and may not have many close relationships. 

“SEL is the process through which children and adults acquire and effectively apply the knowledge, attitudes, and skills necessary to understand and manage emotions, set and achieve positive goals, feel and show empathy for others, establish and maintain positive relationships, and make responsible decisions.” CASEL

SEL has been the backbone of a movement in the Roleplaying Game Industry and Live Action Roleplaying Industry, even if it hasn’t taken the spotlight and it comes in the form of consent. Consent is giving permission for something to happen or an agreement to do something, so in the gaming industry, it may be giving the storyteller permission to use different types of horror to tell a story or may include some trauma-based plotlines that could trigger players at the table. Many RPGs and LARPs are using check-in systems before beginning play so that players are aware of potential plots that might happen and can choose to opt-out of those plots. Many storytellers are also giving players the ability to X card out of scenes as well since many players do not realize a particular topic is uncomfortable for them until they are in the scene. All of these safety mechanisms are set-up and maintained throughout the run of the game. 

But this movement within the industry has not come without push-back. There are many gamers who do not see this as a good thing, but rather a weakening of their hobby and a way to virtue signal to PC culture, even comparing it to Maoism. These gamers do not want their industry to change and do not accept any sort of movement in the direction of consent. There are even storytellers who have said they would not welcome anyone at their table if they wanted to put into place these safety mechanics. 

There is becoming a wider and wider gap in the gaming industry of gamers who are wanting their industry to become more welcoming to everyone, and gamers who do not want their industry to change. The rift grows deeper each time a new product comes out with consent rules or checklists, X card mechanics, or even the power to fade to black for uncomfortable scenes. The reaction is ‘players should know what they are walking into,’ and ‘I never faced any of these issues, so they don’t exist.’ As companies support more and more consent rules and safety mechanics, the louder and louder the dissenting voices will become. 

Can you see connections between SEL and this mentality? 

Everyone comes to a gaming table with their own experiences, their own traumas, and their own expectations. In order for everyone to have an enjoyable time, all of that has to come to a balance at the gaming table. What is comfortable for me might cause someone else to have a panic attack in the bathroom for 15 minutes. 

Horror tends to be the biggest genre that has a tough time grasping this concept. The reaction is ‘why are they playing a horror game when they know they cannot handle it?’ My general response is ‘well what genre of horror did you tell them it was because there are many types of horror.’ I love horror, but there are certain genres of horror that I will not participate in for reasons of my own. So when I’m playing a horror game, I’d like to know what I’m playing so I can choose to participate or not. I’d also like to know if a storyteller is taking my preferences into consideration while they are in charge or not so I can make an informed decision on whether I want to participate. 

Another reaction to this is the argument that adults shouldn’t have to go through this process every game. And while you don’t have to set up consent every game for regular gaming groups, it is important to review things every once in a while so that everyone remembers what the agreed-upon limits were. It is easy to forget things, like those car keys you’ve been looking for. Check under the couch. 

With SEL, regular check-in’s and reinforcement of boundaries is important and necessary for healthy relationships. When you don’t set those limits, it is easy to walk right past a topic you might not consider important but the other person does. And when you flat out refuse to acknowledge someone else's boundaries, you are creating a hostile environment for them. Consent is not optional. It is an important part of SEL growth and a healthy mindset. 

So why is it important that I give up some of my experiences so others can have fun as well? Well, my answer is that storytelling and roleplaying are collaborative. You cannot have a full story when you are excluding or traumatizing someone. Because if one person isn’t having fun because of the content being presented at the table, then the table is failing to have positive storytelling and roleplaying experience. SEL is central to this because as players and storytellers, we all need to be aware that there are other humans at our tables, and agreeing upon what is fun for everyone beforehand is a safe and easy way to make sure everyone is coming away from the game on a positive note. 

So what is the answer? Honestly? Keep moving forward is my answer. Support companies that will continue to make products with safety and consent in mind, and be aware of the companies or storytellers that don’t. 

You are free to play whatever games you want with the people who consent to play with you. Nobody is going to stop you from doing so. But when reaching a larger market, the bigger picture takes precedence. 

You can find many different resources for incorporating consent, safety mechanics, check-in systems, and collaboration in your game at the links below. 

Consent In Gaming

Safety Calibration Cards