Creating characters as you play

When I run games these days, I like to skip character creation. We start play straightaway, making characters as we go along.

Here’s how I do this. I’m still working on this, so if you have a better way, tell me!

1. I start by narrating an introductory scene, in which all the characters are present.

2. As part of that scene, I get the characters to choose Occupations.

3. Then I frame a scene for each character in turn, usually as a flashback. In that scene, I ask the player to describe what their character looks like and something they are doing.

4. I ask another character to join them in that scene, so they exchange a few lines. That establishes a little relationship.

5. Throughout all that, I’m asking questions and listening for things to bring back later. Sometimes, I’ll subtly sow plot seeds.

6. Finally, we return to the present day and start play.

Here’s how it works in detail. I’ll show how it works with Cosmic Dark, my new game. I’ll also refer to Miskatonic Shoreside Conservatory, a Cthulhu Dark scenario I ran recently, with links to the video so you can see exactly how I do it.

Introduction

To start play, I describe an introductory scene, which I narrate. The players don’t play their characters, because they don’t know who they are yet!

This scene usually involves the characters approaching the location where the scenario will take place. For example, in Cosmic Dark, I say “You’re descending to the surface of a planet”, then describe the planet. In Miskatonic Shoreside Conservatory, I describe the characters on a boat, approaching the island on which the Conservatory is based.

I love doing this. It’s exciting to start a game session by leaping straight into play.

Choosing Occupations

At the end of this scene, I ask everyone what their occupation is. Or, rather, a non-player character asks the player characters what their occupations are.

For example, in Cosmic Dark, I play a voice on the communicator (“This is the transport ship. You are descending to the surface of C-151”). Then I say: “Medical officer, please report”. I wait for one of the players to identify themselves as the medical officer. When they do, I continue with “Geologist, please report”, and so on.

In Miskatonic Shoreside Conservatory, I describe the boat’s pilot moving to the front of the boat and looking at the baggage. He says: “The cello, whose is that?”, then waits for a response.

It helps that, in Cosmic Dark and Cthulhu Dark, characters are defined by their Occupation. I think you could use this in other games, though: for example, I think you could get people to choose playbooks in Apocalypse World this way.

Flashbacks

Now, we flash back in time, to tell the story of how the characters got here.

I start with an individual scene for each character, which lets the player describe what the character looks like and show something about them.

Then I introduce another character into that scene, which develops a relationship between the two characters. I give them a cue line (e.g. “It’s time to go) to get them talking, then I end the scene after one or two minutes.

I tailor these scenes to the story. In Cosmic Dark, they take place on the characters’ home planet, showing the characters growing up together. This is because I want to create a deep bond, a feeling that these characters have known each other forever.

In Miskatonic Shoreside Conservatory, I start with the music. For example, when framing a scene for the cello player, I tell them we can hear the character playing cello music, then say “What kind of music are we hearing?”. We talk about the music, then I find out where the character is and what they look like as they play.

After all that, I ask the players to name the characters. Players often find this easier when they’re established other things about their character.

Listening and asking questions

During these scenes, I’m listening to what the players say, repeating it back to them and asking questions to probe further.

For example, I’ll often ask whether the character’s family is rich or poor and whether they live in an urban or rural area. In Miskatonic Shoreside Conservatory, I’ll ask about the characters’ art: when you play music, is it minimalist, atonal or something else? Can you give me an example of a photograph you’ve taken?

When a player says something important, I’ll reflect it back to them. For example when a player describes their character as being ignored, "off in the corner”, I suggest that “Your art often gets overlooked”.

I’ll often steer my questions in a horror direction: “Do your photographs unsettle you?”. When I reflect what a player is saying, I’ll sometimes subtly tweak it so it sounds more horrific: “It’s this weird, slightly otherworldly music.”

And I sometimes ask questions to tease out relationships, with questions like “Which of you is more talented?”.

Bringing things back

When I listen and ask questions, I’m doing it to help the players flesh out the characters. But I’m also looking for things I can bring back later to make the horror personal.

For example, when I played Cosmic Dark (with the podcast Ain’t Slayed Nobody), one player decided their character had an eyepatch. I noted that down and, when something was infecting the characters later, told him the eye beneath the patch was infected.

Similarly, in Miskatonic Shoreside Conservatory, one character described how their father had wanted them to sing jazz, but they wanted to sing other things. I’d keep bringing that idea back when they sang (“You’re using your jazz singer voice”).

All this brings the horror closer to the characters. It makes it hit harder.

Seeding

Sometimes, I slip particular things into character creation, knowing I’ll bring them back into the story later. I call this “sowing seeds”.

For example, in Miskatonic Shoreside Conservatory, I like one character to have a personal, private melody. It can be anything: a tune that the cellist plays when they improvise; a folk song their mother sang to them; a song they hear in their dreams. Later, they will find this engraved on a wall. It’s a beautiful horror moment.

If this doesn’t come up naturally in character creation, I’ll sometimes insert it myself. For example, when I ran Miskatonic Shoreside Conservatory for Symphony Entertainment, Bridgett mentioned that her character sang to herself. When I repeated this back to her, I added "there's this little tune that recurs in your head". Later, she finds that tune engraved on the wall.

Similarly, I like one of the characters to have a parent with no artistic ability. That’s the start of a fun plotline, in which the characters discover that parent used to be talented, then came to Miskatonic Shoreside Conservatory, where they had their ability taken away from them.

Again, I’ll sometimes insert this myself. When I ran the scenario for Symphony, the players invented a father that pushed the children strongly towards the arts. I responded by suggesting that the mother wasn’t talented. Then I asked them to name the mother.

Then, throughout the scenario, I teased the idea that the mother might have sung at the Conservatory. When I finally mentioned her name, in a way that suggested everyone at the Conservatory had heard of her, there was a huge reaction from the players.

If you prefer, there’s a way of using this technique more directly. During character creation, try suggesting ideas to the players explicitly: “Can we say that there’s a little tune that plays in your head?”. You could even say “I know how we can use that later”. I must admit, I like the subtler way, but either works well.

Take all that together and it’s a way of creating characters as you play. But it’s not the only way. I’d love to know your ideas.