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Managing motivation is important - and very difficult to master - in roleplaying games. I've played in games and I've run games in which devious plot points were divvied out and mind-boggling evil was uncovered to a resounding chorus of "meh". If you want to get your players engaged, you have to make things personal.
Think about it. If you're watching a movie, which makes you hate a bad guy more - watching him press a button and casually remark that he's just levelled Des Moines, or watching him throw a golden retriever down an elevator shaft? Logically, you are aware that the city of Des Moines, Iowa contains dozens, if not hundreds, of innocent golden retrievers. And yet, that toss - particularly the audible thud in the darkness, perhaps followed by a pitiable whine - that solidifies him as the baddest of bad guys, someone we're going to root for the hero to vanquish.
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0585-------------------------------------
(Saturday afternoon, INT: EB and JH's living room)
GU: ...And that was our last med pack.
MH: Lord almighty, what a shitshow. We are ground beef on burnt toast out there.
NP: Might be time to consider cutting our losses and strategically retreating.
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LH: If you leave now, Right To Motherhood will relocate, you'll never track'em down again.
NP: So what, they can continue their horrible scourge of raising children without government interference? Fuck it. I vote we let the kid we liberated run home, report mission failure, and wish'em well.
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GU: Wait a second... you said Josephine told us she was eight years old and she looks about eight years old, right?
LH: That's right.
GU: Did she mean Earth years or Martian years?
LH: If you ask her, she says Martian.
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GU: That's about two to one. Shouldn't she be a teenager by now?
LH: Josephine says her bones hurt sometimes, but it's okay because she's cute enough that her mommies still love her.
NP: Aaaaand one-eighty. Strap in, ladies, I am officially incentivized to take these bitches down now.
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