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On this most recent trip, my distraction of choice was Escape This Podcast, in which the hosts guide players (who are often the hosts / casts of other podcasts) though escape room scenarios.
The scenarios are authored by Dani Siller and brought to life by Dani and Bill Sunderland, who Does Voices, playtests, and produces.
Escape rooms are not my go-to kind of game -- they are (? seem to be?) primarily puzzle boxes in cool settings, and I like something more emotional and cathartic -- but Dani is great at creating these stories-in-a-bottle, and the hosts and guests have a lot of fun working through the scenarios. I've just been listening to the Charlie-and-the-Chocolate-Factory doppleganger Escape Roompa-Loompa. (The link is to Episode 2 in the series, but if you know the books or film, you'll know exactly where you are.)
(A propos of nothing in particular, a guest also mentioned the new-to-me term "haunt," for an interactive horror experience. I like that a lot.)
In a cool and generous move, the show makes its scenarios available for free if you want to run one yourself.
My creative brain is coming to life again, and of its own accord it began to write an escape room scenario. I find it's best to let my brain do what it wants, so I sketched the scenario and puzzles in today during a long walk along the west shore and a sojurn at Denny's.
(This is all a bit ironic, since while I love the idea of puzzles and ciphers, I am not very good at solving them.)
You Are Invited
This is your invitation to playtest a very rough escape room scenario. I have not written one before, and I am still feeling out how the form works.
To playtest, all you have to do is to leave a comment with what your character does next. I will comment with the response text, and you can go on from there as far as you like, or until I realize something doesn't work and have to redraft.
When you're done, or as you go, you are welcome to comment with ideas for elaborating or clarifying puzzles or other room elements.
I think this would probably be considered quite an easy escape room to anyone familiar with them. The puzzles are (I think?) pretty transparent. A diversion rather than a challenge?
If you're not familiar with escape rooms (as I am not, really, except through the pod), it's customary to start with a detailed examination of the room and its contents. You're looking for puzzles to solve rather than more open-ended challenges -- "figure out the key code," not "win over the security guard.
It's much more about puzzles and setting than character or story, and the setting's primary function is to provide clues about how to solve the puzzles. (I think. As I say, I am new to this. Any escape roomers (escapees?) out there?)
Comments will obviously contain spoilers, though the details may vary as I develop and improve the language of the scenario. Also hopefully I think of a better title?
(I made this a Christmas scenario to create some quick stakes -- invoking familiar genre tropes seems to be a staple of the format, a shortcut to understanding the task at hand.)
The Scenario: Long Winter's Catt Nap
Snnnore... Wha? Huh?
You wake up in confusion. You are slumped on the shiny vinyl seat of a booth at C.C. Catt's, that famously fun and garish family restaurant and pizza pie parlour. But something's wrong. It's dim in here -- only the emergency lights are lit. And everyone's gone. A minute ago you were surrounded by old college friends and screaming kids. Now you're alone in a dark, silent restaurant. You can hear the fan, your own breathing, and a faint high-pitched beep.
You turn on your phone. 4:57 am on Christmas morning? What on earth? You look around wildly and try to piece events together.
Tonight was your traditional Christmas Eve pizza dinner with a couple of old college friends and their kids. Your own family stayed home, begging off with ambiguous cold symptoms and last-minute wrapping.
You must have had one too many Long Island Iced Teas and dozed off. Then your old "friends" thought it would be funny to leave you here to sleep it off. That sounds like them. Why do you still hang out with these people?
Once you'd been abandoned, because you were sitting, or rather lolling, in the back booth behind the animatronic stage, the staff, in a hurry to get home to their families, missed your table entirely. Indeed, the table is still strewn with fragments of pizza, sticky glasses, and crushed napkins.
Your neck hurts, your head throbs, your mouth tastes awful, and you're locked in C.C. Catt's on Christmas morning, with only an hour or so to get home before the family starts waking up and all hell breaks loose.
You open your phone to text an explanation, an apology. The screen lights up, then suddenly goes black. You try again; it shows you the red "no charge" symbol. Damn. You were hoping to get a new phone for Christmas.
Okay. Think. You need to get out of here. That soft beeping is probably the restaurant's alarm system. You can see a red light flashing high above you in the cavernous restaurant space. You could just set off the alarm and wait, but then the police would come and the delay could go on for hours. Better to break out and run. Or maybe you can figure out a way to shut off the alarm. That shouldn't be so hard. The password's probably on a piece of paper around here someplace. You can give that a fair chance and then if necessary just peel out of the parking lot and speed away like the thief you are emphatically not. Maybe leave a note to explain what happened? Ugh. What a start to Christmas morning.
You rise unsteadily and stand at the end of the table, looking around the restaurant. The main space is filled by empty tables with chairs upturned on the tabletops. Beside you is the stage with the gigantic, oddly menacing, four-piece animatronic animal band. Across from you is the dark maw of the ball pit. To your left is the pizza counter, with some abandoned pizza still lying on its shiny black surface.
It takes you a minute, as you take stock of all you see, to realize what you don't see.
You don't see a door.
{RF}
The scenarios are authored by Dani Siller and brought to life by Dani and Bill Sunderland, who Does Voices, playtests, and produces.
Escape rooms are not my go-to kind of game -- they are (? seem to be?) primarily puzzle boxes in cool settings, and I like something more emotional and cathartic -- but Dani is great at creating these stories-in-a-bottle, and the hosts and guests have a lot of fun working through the scenarios. I've just been listening to the Charlie-and-the-Chocolate-Factory doppleganger Escape Roompa-Loompa. (The link is to Episode 2 in the series, but if you know the books or film, you'll know exactly where you are.)
(A propos of nothing in particular, a guest also mentioned the new-to-me term "haunt," for an interactive horror experience. I like that a lot.)
In a cool and generous move, the show makes its scenarios available for free if you want to run one yourself.
My creative brain is coming to life again, and of its own accord it began to write an escape room scenario. I find it's best to let my brain do what it wants, so I sketched the scenario and puzzles in today during a long walk along the west shore and a sojurn at Denny's.
(This is all a bit ironic, since while I love the idea of puzzles and ciphers, I am not very good at solving them.)
You Are Invited
This is your invitation to playtest a very rough escape room scenario. I have not written one before, and I am still feeling out how the form works.
To playtest, all you have to do is to leave a comment with what your character does next. I will comment with the response text, and you can go on from there as far as you like, or until I realize something doesn't work and have to redraft.
When you're done, or as you go, you are welcome to comment with ideas for elaborating or clarifying puzzles or other room elements.
I think this would probably be considered quite an easy escape room to anyone familiar with them. The puzzles are (I think?) pretty transparent. A diversion rather than a challenge?
If you're not familiar with escape rooms (as I am not, really, except through the pod), it's customary to start with a detailed examination of the room and its contents. You're looking for puzzles to solve rather than more open-ended challenges -- "figure out the key code," not "win over the security guard.
It's much more about puzzles and setting than character or story, and the setting's primary function is to provide clues about how to solve the puzzles. (I think. As I say, I am new to this. Any escape roomers (escapees?) out there?)
Comments will obviously contain spoilers, though the details may vary as I develop and improve the language of the scenario. Also hopefully I think of a better title?
(I made this a Christmas scenario to create some quick stakes -- invoking familiar genre tropes seems to be a staple of the format, a shortcut to understanding the task at hand.)
The Scenario: Long Winter's Catt Nap
Snnnore... Wha? Huh?
You wake up in confusion. You are slumped on the shiny vinyl seat of a booth at C.C. Catt's, that famously fun and garish family restaurant and pizza pie parlour. But something's wrong. It's dim in here -- only the emergency lights are lit. And everyone's gone. A minute ago you were surrounded by old college friends and screaming kids. Now you're alone in a dark, silent restaurant. You can hear the fan, your own breathing, and a faint high-pitched beep.
You turn on your phone. 4:57 am on Christmas morning? What on earth? You look around wildly and try to piece events together.
Tonight was your traditional Christmas Eve pizza dinner with a couple of old college friends and their kids. Your own family stayed home, begging off with ambiguous cold symptoms and last-minute wrapping.
You must have had one too many Long Island Iced Teas and dozed off. Then your old "friends" thought it would be funny to leave you here to sleep it off. That sounds like them. Why do you still hang out with these people?
Once you'd been abandoned, because you were sitting, or rather lolling, in the back booth behind the animatronic stage, the staff, in a hurry to get home to their families, missed your table entirely. Indeed, the table is still strewn with fragments of pizza, sticky glasses, and crushed napkins.
Your neck hurts, your head throbs, your mouth tastes awful, and you're locked in C.C. Catt's on Christmas morning, with only an hour or so to get home before the family starts waking up and all hell breaks loose.
You open your phone to text an explanation, an apology. The screen lights up, then suddenly goes black. You try again; it shows you the red "no charge" symbol. Damn. You were hoping to get a new phone for Christmas.
Okay. Think. You need to get out of here. That soft beeping is probably the restaurant's alarm system. You can see a red light flashing high above you in the cavernous restaurant space. You could just set off the alarm and wait, but then the police would come and the delay could go on for hours. Better to break out and run. Or maybe you can figure out a way to shut off the alarm. That shouldn't be so hard. The password's probably on a piece of paper around here someplace. You can give that a fair chance and then if necessary just peel out of the parking lot and speed away like the thief you are emphatically not. Maybe leave a note to explain what happened? Ugh. What a start to Christmas morning.
You rise unsteadily and stand at the end of the table, looking around the restaurant. The main space is filled by empty tables with chairs upturned on the tabletops. Beside you is the stage with the gigantic, oddly menacing, four-piece animatronic animal band. Across from you is the dark maw of the ball pit. To your left is the pizza counter, with some abandoned pizza still lying on its shiny black surface.
It takes you a minute, as you take stock of all you see, to realize what you don't see.
You don't see a door.
{RF}
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 02:55 am (UTC)Let's say to start with I look at what's at my own table: any clues as to what might have happened to get me here? Receipts, personal effects, a phone charger?
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 03:21 am (UTC)You look around the booth. There isn't much that seems helpful here, though looking over the receipt shows that your so-called friends at least paid for your dinner. You also notice that the receipt paper seems to have run out before the bill was fully printed. There's the slogan at the top -- "An Honest Pie" -- and various charges, including that ill-advised dessert pizza you ordered after your third drink -- but the total runs off the end of the paper. You turn the receipt over. Someone has written "Don't drive! Call an Uber!" on the back.
You have everything you came in with -- wallet, coat -- plus some gift cards they exchanged with you.
That's about it for your immediate surroundings. You'll have to look elsewhere for how to get out of here.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 03:41 am (UTC)All right, let's get the worst over first and get up to the stage to check out the creepy animatronic band a little more closely. What's up with these guys?
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 04:11 am (UTC)Lol
*The Animatronics*
Whew, whoever designed these animatronics really made some choices.
There are four animals in the band, each at least ten feet tall — much too large for comfort. They are all a little the worse for wear, with threadbare patches that lend them a certain zombieish insouciance. Zombie animal Elvis impersonators. Neat.
C.C. Catt himself, with crooked grin and jutting whiskers (some of which are broken off) stands stage right with his microphone and ukulele. He’s an orange tom wearing a spangled orange jumpsuit — weird choice, as he looks sort of — naked? But then he’s a cat so maybe that shouldn’t matter. On his chest is a letter C, for the obvious multiple reasons.
Behind him are, from left to right: A. Lee Gator on keyboards, wearing a spangled yellow jumpsuit with an A on the chest; T. Roaring Axe on guitar, a dinosaur in a shimmering blue jumpsuit with a central T; and Robby Bitt, a giant rabbit, way out of scale, in a purple jumpsuit with an emblazoned R.
The animals are all so big they have a monolithic quality, like lost, ancient gods, frozen in some grotesque ceremony. But furrier.
Hmm, that’s interesting. There seems to be a piece of paper lodged in the crook of the giant rabbit’s ear. It’s too high for you to read, but it looks like a list of some kind.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 04:17 am (UTC)I do like however the potential inherent in this list in the rabbit's ear. If I can't reach the paper myself to grab it, perhaps I can pull over a chair to climb up and get it?
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 04:30 am (UTC)Unfortunately, R. Bitt's ears are the highest point in the whole ensemble, and while from the chair you can get pretty close, you can't reach the paper without leaning a lot of your weight on the animatronic and possibly damaging it or knocking it over. (Or just getting musty bits of necro-fur all over yourself.)
If only there were some way to get the paper to come down on its own.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 05:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 06:05 am (UTC)Unfortunately, the chairs are so old and sat-upon that their finishes are worn as smooth as glass. As you give a particularly vigorous poke with chair #2, your foot slips on the seat of chair #1. You lurch against the body of the rabbit, which sags beneath your weight. Chair #2 swivels in your hand and strikes Robby on the temple, knocking out his right eye and causing it to bounce across the room and disappear into the ball pit. You hear a faint unhappy thud.
The smell of dust and years rises around you. You scramble down from chair #1 and assess the damage. Robby is listing slightly now, and the empty eye socket looks ghastly. On the up side, it does seem like that eye could pop back in pretty easily if it's still intact. On the down side, the paper is still stuck in his ear.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 04:18 pm (UTC)All right, let's bite the bullet: is there any obvious way to switch these horrible things on?
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 04:32 pm (UTC)You examine the stage, the animatronics (gingerly), even the carpet. You find nothing that seems like an on-switch or keypad.
There are four lights set into the front of the stage: yellow, blue, purple, and orange. However, pressing them doesn't seem to do anything.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 04:42 pm (UTC)I'm wondering about the order of these lights -- it seems like they ought to correspond to the colors of the horrible animatronics -- and also about the fact that my guy R. Bitt doesn't seem to have an instrument, which it looks like he probably should in order to get everything to start rolling. Is there anything around that looks like a missing animatronic instrument? If not, I guess it's time to brace myself to start searchingg the ballpit.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 11:42 pm (UTC)Restoring the instrument to his hands (so he *isn't* clawing at the sky in cosmic agony!) doesn't seem to bring R. Bitt to life, but it does make him marginally less alarming. Too bad about the eye, though.
The lights do seem to correspond to the different characters; presumably they'd turn on and off as the characters activated.
You take one last look around, but you feel like you've seen all there is to see here for right now.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 11:45 pm (UTC)The Ball Pit
Date: 2022-12-31 03:38 am (UTC)You approach the ball pit. Maybe you can at least get some childish joy out of jumping into it.
But you are disappointed. The pit is empty, except for a handful of scattered balls.
The padded pit is surrounded by a high wall of mesh that presumably keeps the balls and the children from escaping. Above the pit, where it runs along the wall, there is a raised platform with a railing — presumably, this is where the operator / keeper sits.
Above the pit is a dragon's hoard of plastic balls in a gigantic clear bin. A chute extends from the bin to the ball pit.
There is also a smaller clear plastic pipe set into the wall. Above it is a sign that reads MANUAL OVERRIDE.
Beside the pipe is some kind of — readout? Alert system?
It’s a series of flat rectangles that look like they light up. The top one reads ATTRACT, and the bottom one reads DISTRACT.
There is also a BALL CHUTE ON/OFF switch. Unfortunately, it is locked behind a plexiglass cover.
Re: The Ball Pit
Date: 2022-12-31 02:20 pm (UTC)Second of all, does the plexiglass cover have a keyhole or any obvious way to open it?
Re: The Ball Pit
Date: 2023-01-01 06:51 pm (UTC)There doesn't seem to be any obvious way to open the plexiglass cover. Maybe you can do something with the manual override.
Re: The Ball Pit
Date: 2023-01-02 02:59 pm (UTC)Re: The Ball Pit
Date: 2023-01-03 03:28 am (UTC)What colour ball do you pick up? Yellow, orange, blue, or purple?
Re: The Ball Pit
Date: 2023-01-04 04:09 am (UTC)Re: The Ball Pit
Date: 2023-01-08 03:04 am (UTC)The rectangles appear to be some kind of readout, registering the level of -- something -- from ATTRACT to DISTRACT. The MANUAL OVERRIDE sign seems to label the clear plastic tube on the left of this display. The tube runs horizontal, left to right, and looks about the right size to hold a row of the ball pit balls.
Re: The Ball Pit
Date: 2023-01-09 01:13 am (UTC)...and if the answer is 'nothing,' then one is tempted to also drop the eyeball into the tube and see what happens, just for kicks.
Re: The Ball Pit
Date: 2023-01-11 03:09 am (UTC)however
the orange ball rolls in an oddly purposeful way, as though pulled by a magnet or some other attraction, and settles into a spot near, but not at, the end of the tube. There's about room for one ball after it and -- you estimate -- five balls before it.
The orange ball lights up orange; and with a cheerful "ping" the "C" in ATTRACT also lights up.
You hear a faint rattling sound from the balls above, as though they are shifting in place.
Re: The Ball Pit
Date: 2023-01-13 09:23 pm (UTC)***First puzzle solved!***
Date: 2023-01-17 05:22 am (UTC)You arrange the balls in order in the clear tube, and one by one the letters in A T T R A C T flash on. You hear a loud whirring from above. Balls begin to clatter into the pit.
The balls fill to ankle, then knee height. As the level rises, the bars in the readout light up.
The balls reach the lip of the pit and begin to overflow it, spilling out onto the ledge. An annoying beeping sounds. The whirring slows, stops. The outpouring of balls ceases, a few last balls bouncing onto the foam of bright colours.
The final bar lights up, then the word DISTRACT.
With a metallic howl, the animatronic band creaks into life and begins to "play" "music."
The one-eyed rabbit's head jerks back almost 90 degrees, his toothy jaw working soundlessly. The trapped piece of paper flashes in the glaring stage lights and then wafts gently to the ground.
***First puzzle solved!***
And I think the play test ends there! I can see that there are some logical holes I need to darn in the next bit.
Thank you so much! You are an excellent investigator.
The eyeball was an improvisation, but it is definitely sticking around.
Any thoughts or reflections you have are welcome. I've never tried to run an escape room vs. a more story-themed game before. It's really interesting trying to figure out how to pace the information.
I hope that was at least a little fun.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 11:49 pm (UTC)(No worries at all! Please just play as pleases you.)
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 06:06 am (UTC)This is hugely helpful, thank you!
My instincts as GM to reward player ingenuity are at war with my wish as an aspiring puzzle designer not to have you skip an entire section of the puzzle, lol. So that feels like a place to note for revision / clarification.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 05:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 05:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 06:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 04:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-30 06:52 am (UTC)