Pet Projects

Monsters are Obviously Childish Things

There’s an old niche RPG I’m fond of, Monsters and Other Childish Things by Greg Stolze, which simplifies rules from Godlike and Wild Talents to imagine a world where kids and their out-of-control imaginary friends solve problems.

Preamble

To briefly summarize MaOCT:

There’s an obvious setup for a kid and their monster, and for a Weird Kid who has no monster, but what if you were to play as a Lonely Monster? What goals does such a character need to pursue?

To summarize a human’s gameplay loop and advancement:

MaOCT also provides the following advice to GMs:

However, what’s a monster to do without an unbreakable human bond to motivate them? Much of MaOCT’s content is written with the presumption that monster protagonists have human counterparts. Yet, there’s still a kind of romance in a horrible, soft-hearted monster navigating a world that doesn’t know it exists, and finding common ground with the dregs of humanity (psychics, mutants, conspiracy theorists, the Men in Black, etc.)

Show Me the Goods

This set of houserules allows players to command “Lonely Monster” characters who seek human and monster companionship while also existing as a kind of counterpart to Weird Kids. While they don’t experience the same reality that children do in MaOCT, a monster still seeks to bond with others, protect itself emotionally, experience the wider world, and throw its weight around without attracting unwanted attention.

The Method Behind the Madness

One particular little wrinkle behind monster gameplay is that they are very slow to experience character advancement. Human characters can spend every last point of Experience with relative immediacy (including actual immediacy if the GM rules they’re doing cool kung-fu training shit mid-session), and outside of combat gets more mileage out of every purchase.

Humans can also make contested rolls that cause them to immediately beat a monster attempting an action they don’t have a specific Quality for (it’s trivial to outrun a monster that has no legs.)

In all, a monster with no kid to hold it back is a force to be reckoned with in combat, between their natural resistance to mundane damage (human weapons, for example), ability to buy resistance and immunity to extraordinary damage, and a reduced need to act defensively, but they also miss out on opportunities to get advice and protection from a closely-bonded human.

Thus, I find that it’s interesting to quantify a Lonely Monster’s relations to humanity and monster-kind in a way where combat and social/investigative investments come at different costs. An endlessly loving teddy bear monster with a handful of close human friends can pick up a wealth of social and investigation abilities, but will need to murk other monsters to get significant combat progression.

In this way, a Lonely Monster, depending on their Karma relations, experiences a problem: one that’s overly friendly with humans may be ill-equipped to defend their loved ones from evildoers, one that’s overly friendly with monsters may find it harder to deal with unwanted attention or achieve specific goals that require proximity to humans.

Of course, the power of friendship is mighty indeed, that’s a theme that’s present in all versions of MaOCT, but that might be even more important for a monster who’s simultaneously at odds with their species and unable to show themselves before most humans.