Ghosted
Well how about that? For once it isn’t Gunslinger having trouble finding a group. Somehow, this fate seems even crueler though. Where our usual looking-for-group poster boy is properly hopeless, the poor phantom featured in today’s comic had the carrot of a regular session dangled before his ectoplasmic nose. It feels bloody awful when that mess gets yanked away.
I’m not 100% on this, but my intuition is that this particular problem is an artifact of digital gaming culture. If you’re in an IRL game, dudes can always call last minute and say, “I’m not feeling it tonight.” And while that’s its own brand of suck, you likely have a solid connection with that person. You’ve met them IRL. You have a phone number. Maybe they’re a schoolmate or a coworker. Probably you frequent the same game store. And that relationship away from the game table means that there’s a little added social pressure to follow through on commitments and show up at gametime. Not so with the LFG culture of virtual tabletops.
When you’re a digital ghost in a remote campaign, it’s all too easy to let those tenuous connections fade away. Didn’t gel with the group? Got busy and couldn’t make it? Want to avoid sticky social situations? Then just cut all contact and forget you ever heard of ’em! I mean, they’ve got no social leverage. They’ve got no idea who you are. Just dip out and let the other guy deal with the fallout. What are they going to do, backtrace you? Pfft.
Needless to say, this isn’t exactly prosocial behavior. So for today’s discussion, why don’t we trade tales of the flaky players in our gaming careers? Have you ever found yourself ghosted out there in the wide Astral Sea of the internet? Or (gods forbid) been that player yourself? Is there ever a good justification for ghosting the party? Tell us all about your own encounters with suddenly-absent partymates down in the comments!
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Is… is the phantom DM going to be a regular? 0_0;
Maybe he and Gunslinger could party up…
> Maybe he and Gunslinger could party up…
Sorry. Only Occultist can perceive Phantom DM. I’m not even sure he’s real.
For me, the worst case of a flaky player I’ve had was with a player who I worked with. Every week he would insist he was coming to the game, never once showed up. I couldn’t really tell him not to bother since I didn’t want to make things difficult at work, so I just quietly wrote his character out of the story and continued to run the game while he insisted every week that he’d definitely show up this time.
I realize (a little belatedly) that I might have failed to define my terms in this comic. In my head, I was going with this definition:
ghosting: *noun* the practice of ending a personal relationship with someone by suddenly and without explanation withdrawing from all communication.
In that sense, my opinion in today’s rant skews to tautology. If you’ve got an ongoing personal relationship with somebody, it’s literally impossible for them to ghost you. Doesn’t mean they can’t flake though, which is a related (but separate) idea.
I’ve had a number of flaky players, and every time the solution has been the same : once they’ve established they weren’t interested in correcting their behaviour, purge them from the group.
It sucks, but hey. What can you do.
Nowadays what we’ve landed on is that we’ve established a basic schedule of a session every other Sunday, but we’re flexible on that : after every session, we consult with each others to see availability and shuffle the session around if need be (maybe play later in the day, maybe play on Saturday, maybe play in three weeks instead of two, that kind of stuff). So it’s kind of a hybrid between a hard, scary “we play every X” schedule and a doomed-to-fail “we play whenever” schedule.
The result is that players generally know they would have a session on a given day and don’t make random plans on those days, but they also don’t get scared off by a big commitment and know that if something unusual comes up – a birthday, a relative they don’t see often, whatever – then they CAN set aside their Sunday and we’ll manage. It’s worked well for us so far.
> purge them from the group.
Was there an official “you’re no longer invited,” or do you just let ’em fade away.
I quite like your system for scheduling. It takes more work than “we game strictly every two weeks and are unable to change,” but it’s kinder to IRL commitments.
In some cases we let them fade away, in others there was a discussion. It depended on how receptive the person had been to previous attempts at correcting the flunkiness. If they made an effort and it just didn’t work out, well, it happens, it’s okay, but we want to actually play the game though, so we have a proper conversation to tell them they’re out and why. If they simply didn’t respect the time of everyone in the group, well we’re just going to stop inviting them and find someone else.
As for the schedule, yeah, it’s a bit more work, but not that much honestly (10 or so minutes at the end of every session to quickly discuss if we’re playing in two weeks as usual or if someone is unavailable, and an occasional look at Discord in the week leading to the session to see if something came up), and it goes a long way to avoid scaring off people with a big commitment. If they like the game they’re going to make themselves available anyway, no need to make it sound like they NEED to clear every other Sunday in perpetuity to play.
arly on in the pandemic I got into 5e after not playing any tabletop for a while, and my first group other than playing with my household was a friend calling me up and asking if I wanted to play in a 5e game… and then asking me to run it after I said yes.
He ended up being a nightmare player and decided he didn’t like 5e after insisting on playing a class he didn’t like, and then dropped out. One of my other players brought in some of his friends, and that’s where the story really begins.
These new players… did not respect my time. The sessions was scheduled for the same time on the same day every week, and more often than not I would be sitting at my computer for an hour or more, sending discord messages, waiting for somebody, anybody to show up, and spending my time prepping farther and farther ahead in the module.
Eventually I had enough, and I ended up letting them know I was dissolving the group because nobody ever showed up, or even apologized afterwards for missing the session with no communication.
No dnd is better than bad dnd, and I’m glad I did because only a little bit later I found a group I’ve had a lot of fun with, through a looking for group post on social media of all things! And if I’d still been trying to make my bad dnd work, I wouldn’t have had room to bring good dnd into my life.
Good on ya for weeding through the chaff. Telling the difference between “legit forgot” and “doesn’t respect my time” can be tough. But when it becomes clear, there’s nothing to do but move on to the next group.
Real life always takes priority over gaming. ALWAYS. If my players couldn’t make it for any reason, then their characters would be “holding horses” for that session. Unless they had already set up for another player to run their characters. Being in the military, none of us had a say whether or not we had to cancel for work and family matters out important game matters.
That said, if a player was consistently bailing on the group, they usually would cull themselves without my interference. It sucks when you finally show up and find out your character is two or three levels below the rest of the group and you’ve missed out on the opportunity for some epic gear. I don’t adjust for that, might suck but your character wasn’t there so nothing for you.
One of the reasons my husband and I bailed on the 5e group we played in was so many of the other players just didn’t show up consistently or let the DM know they would be there. Seriously, you could never tell if it was going to be you, one other player and the DM or a full group of six players. Had so many sessions cancelled because no one showed up but us.
With how much people feel the need to point out that real life takes priority over gaming, I assume there must be some people who argue it doesn’t. Why? What explanations do they give? How does their world work?
well…
there is „real life takes priority“ as in „I/SO/kid got sick“ or „transport broke down“ etc.
and then there are people who don’t prioritize the RPG session…
at all, over anything, ever.
Where the RPG session apparently is just a sort of placeholder until something more interesting (or just anything else) pops up.
Yes, this^. “Real life” is really only illness, unexpected disaster (a very rare occurrence), unavoidable social engagements, or conflicting work/exam scheduling. And that last one is something that can usually be worked around if advised of in advance.
Real life is not “I can’t play because I need to finish off that commission/write that paper that I was too busy playing multiplayer online games every other night this week to get done earlier”. Nor is it “I’ve been invited to drinks with some other friends”.
I recently put together a couple of groups for a one-shot, and it was, as usual, like herding cats. One person dropped out right before the session was to start and needed to be replaced, and then the replacement vanished ten minutes in as well. Both cited family emergencies. Still, we limped on with three and had a good time. Finishing with 3/5 total players, it nearly stuck to my adage that when collecting randos for a game, always find twice as many as you need.
You know, I’m not sure its to do with online gaming culture. I have been ghosted more times by IRL players than by ones online. Now, I don’t go in for games with random people, the online equivalent of gaming store walk-in games, so I might be having a different experience than most, but if something comes up that prevents a person from showing up to a game, 9/10 times they’ll send a message either in a public chat or to the gm letting people know.
I have never had an online game that didn’t vanish into obscurity without warning. It makes me sad.
I’m going to add my voice to say that I’ve been ghosted more often in IRL games than online games—and unlike ChimeraVillain, I have done a few online games with random people. (They were okay.)
Luckily, my regular gaming group is usually good at keeping everyone else up to date on when they won’t show up, with a few specific problem players who my group is usually good at making fun of.
Now, we do have a problem where not everyone in the group receives the texts that tell them when the game is cancelled (mostly me when my phone is connected to wifi), or notices when those texts are received (also mostly me). But that’s a separate issue. I’d argue it’s a smaller one (but I’m kinda biased).
I never expected to be the ghoster… but there I was, just over a month ago feeling my corporeality slipping away.
Between work and insomnia I’d just stopped checking anything online except my morning comics (which I read over breakkie). Then I finally got more than 1 day off, got some extra sleep, went to log into my online message board games, and realized it had been a month since I’d faded out on them.
So I made my excuses and said my goodbyes. Hopefully if/when work lets up in January (or March – I do insurance) I can return to those games. I’d playign some of them for over seven years so I do miss them.
But I’m a “late internet” adopter Gen Xer, so for me social expectations are more odl school and I’ve never adopted the “perennially online” aspect of the “youngins these days”.
Just sayin that makes my cane shaking arm spasm.
Never yet had a total “no call, no show” for game night.
(Plenty as a private tutor, just not for D&D.)
Biggest flaky-player frustration from pre-COVID (precious little RPing during lockdown) was never knowing whether that giant mission you’d planned to build on a certain character’s backstory would, instead, be run with only a halfling, a gnome, and a vanilla cleric (while the key PC in question and his player ghosted the group IRL. We still miss him).
Alternately, you’re asked to run the 2nd half of a mission the group began last session–only to have an entirely different cast of characters show up to play. Ultimately, I hand-waved it and said the quest-giver decided that the original heroes were screwing up the mission and used scrying and *teleport* to swap out the team with a fresh pack of ringers.
Final (and opposite to the first) permutation: it looks like nearly no one can make it. Rather than cancel, it’s decided that the DM and his player son will go to game night and run something small for the host and “one other player.” Said other player invites a few folks, the regular gang has plans change or hears of the large group going, and the DM arrives to discover a rowdy block party in progress, plus dice. The three PCs helping the local beekeeper have now blossomed into the Mongol Horde. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqcVro-3f4I
Happy holidays to you all 😀
I find that being selective helps when running an online game in all sorts of ways, including avoiding flakes.
I am generally the DM, so I set up the search for players. I write a clear statement of intent (genre and goals), expectations (don’t be an asshole basically), and rules for players to follow in terms of missing games (basically, cancel as needed, but it takes 2 minutes to shoot me a message saying as much, and barring someone bleeding all over your carpet or that level of dire emergency, you have that time to spare).
I also hide in my posts a green M&M rule, where the applicant must add a specific word or phrase to their application, and it’s always in the player expectation section. I can deal with glossing over the adventure introduction or discussion on my play style, but if you can’t take the time to read what I expect of you fully, then I doubt you’ll take the time to follow even basic social courtesies.
I’ve had almost no ghosting since I started the green M&M rule, and it is very easy to enforce because there is no good justification to miss it. You either chose to skim over the section, actively ignored that section, chose to deliberately defy that section, or are so absent minded that you probably won’t show up anyhow, and none of that is acceptable in the context of a group activity.
But you have to enforce it. I’ve never made an exception to the rule and not have it turn into a disaster. They’ll often either explode at you or try to guilt you (again, having not paid any heed to the player expectation section, normal social expectations generally won’t apply to them). Don’t fall for it. I feel for you, TimmyNoShow69, really I do, but after a half dozen horrifying exceptions, I really don’t believe you’re gonna be the exception that works.
a few DMs over at GITP forums have ghosted their groups when I was looking for a „play by post“ arrangement.
The worst offender asked everyone interested for a lengthy intro of their characters to „choose the ‚bestest‘ to get an invitation to play“.
I guess it’s an effective way to phish for a collection of character stories.
Yes, I’ve had a fair few… though, I’m pleased to say, just as many solid, reliable players over the 6 years I’ve been running on VTTs. Usually, a player who just doesn’t show without warning is not long for my campaigns. If they regularly miss sessions *but* politely warn in advance, I’m much more likely to cut them slack.
The toughest players to work with I find are those with irregular work hours – less of a problem now that I am in my 30s and many of my fellows are 9-to-5ers. In one of my latest campaigns, I’ve actually had a “floating” session that moved around the week according to when the guy on flexible hours could make it! On the whole though – the best players imo are workers on regular hours, house-spouses, and jobless students.
My worst experiences though have been unreliable DMs. I recently had 2 campaigns ended abruptly because it no longer suited the DM’s schedule. I don’t want to be precious, but having steered 5 campaigns to satisfactory completion in as many years (all weekly sessions, most campaigns over multiple years!), I’d *really* like to find a DM who can do the same for me without disappearing in a puff of apathy just as I am getting invested…
As a GM, I put in effort to make sure my players show up or let us know if they will not, culling the PCs of those players who consistently don’t show. For the past decade (and then some), every game I have run – be it a one-shot, three-shot, or multi-year hundred-plus-shot similar to Ilmari’s (weekly sessions et al) – has come to a narrative conclusion rather than just fizzle out. Far too many of the games I play in, though, simply fizzle when the GM and players don’t show. (This is one reason why I don’t do play-by-post, instead favoring regularly scheduled sessions.)
It’s been a while since I last did more than a one-shot IRL, but I recall being ghosted by players IRL too. Even those occasional one-shots I run at conventions, not all the players always show up; I adapt the adventure to the number present. It helps that I tend to run combat-light, with challenges more tuned to the abilities of the PCs (and players, when I know them, e.g. if one player is particularly good at solving a certain sort of puzzle) rather than their damage output.
This topic is topical just now: Thanksgiving through New Year’s is the most common time for people to be suddenly unavailable, though it usually suffices to specifically ask players after each weekly session if they will be available next week. For instance, the campaign I am running just now will be skipping this weekend after players said, last weekend, that they had Christmas Eve plans but would prefer to game on New Year’s Eve.
I’ve been blessed with an online group that shows up most of the time.
Sure, we miss some holidays here and there, and sometimes someone has to catch up on work, but that’s normal even for IRL groups.
One of my players is routinely absent.
Oh, they’re still showing up for games, but they’re… usually in another tab at the time. Which is a shame, because when they actually engage, they’re great.
I have some stories I can tell on this one, but the first bit… that it’s an artifact of the digital age? I’m not feeling that one, but my experiences with meat space may be outside of the median curve. I once said ‘well, you find out who your friends are’ and a coworker was like “DAMN.”
Anyhow. I don’t want to talk about the flakes, I want to talk about the other side of the coin-when real life is too real. This is a story of someone I’m fairly sure passed on, and if I’ve told this before in this space, just know that I share it every so often in memory of my first good times with a good friend in DnD.
My GM, who went by the handle of Isis, had let us know that year that she was battling cancer. I don’t have too many details on it; I had considered it rude to ask. She couldn’t attend her usual gaming group anymore, so she asked us to play DnD with her, which was a bit of a request since we were all Palladium players. We did though, and we had what was shaping up to be a great campaign.
One by one, the other players started to drop… no idea why. We found ourselves down to GM and Player by the end, abandoned the ongoing campaign for something a little different that, based on events, belongs in the other handbook. And after that, we chatted a couple more times on AIM. She let me know that she was going in for a big therapy session… and then her name went dark and never lit up again.
It’s sad of course. The way I see it is that she chose to spend what time she had left playing with us, and I at least chose to spend that time she wanted to play with her.
Over the years now, I’ve seen a number of names go dark, never to light up again. Most I’m pretty sure just got carried off by life, and that’s fine. But there’s a few that I know where life became very unstable and/or ended.
So let’s all of us hold an open chair at our table once in a while and remember those of us whom we shared the joys and frustrations of our hobby with. Forget not their stories and raise a glass to your ghosts. After all, it’s through these things that we carry our friends on forever.
I had a ST who became very flaky for awhile. He recently got out of a funk and started casually dating a lot and would regularly forget about out weekly game and would only officially cancel the session when we reminded him of the game.
After a few times I told him that I don’t mind him cancelling, but he better stop disrespecting my time or I’d start getting really fucking pissed.
After that he got better at telling us ahead of time if there was no game to be had.