RPGs In Technicolor, Part 2a: Supplemental Afterthoughts
I was really pressed for time when I wrote Part 2 of this 1-2 treatment of the subject, and as a result a couple of things that I wanted to write about got kind of lost in the shuffle.
They aren’t enough to really stand as a full post on their own, so I’m sneaking this extra post in as a surprise extra (and will be adding a link to the end of Part 2) to bring readers here.
As with part 2, I’m not going to try and synopsize the previous content, I’ll assume that you’ve read it, and dive right in (and if you need to read part 1 first, you will find it here).
Clothing Colors – additional notes
I was at my optometrist today for my annual checkup and, while waiting for various eye-drops to take effect so that he could examine my retinas, spent a little time noticing the variety of colors of sunglasses lenses and the gamut of colors offered for frames.
This was something that I had meant to mention in part 2 but completely forgot when writing the relevant section – and it’s my suspicion that it’s an element of color that a lot of people forget in their descriptions, too, unless it’s somehow significant.
So, sunglasses – amber-brown and black are the obvious tones for the lenses, but four additional shades provide more drama: mirror-shades (of course), a metallic bright blue (which I have seen before), a metallic red which shines a golden yellow, and a metallic green.
Glasses Frames: Black, pearl, gold, and silver are the obvious (and usual) choices. Brown, sometimes with streak of white, or brown-white marbled, are less obvious options that nevertheless stretch back at least 50 years if not longer. But starting in the late 70s/early 80s, more startling choices began to be available.
Who here remembers the look of guitarist Paul Reynolds from the most famous line-up of A Flock Of Seagulls? Can you remember the color of his shirt in the clip for “I Ran”? Most people won’t be able to do so – because his bright white sunglasses-frames were so distinctive (the shirt was white, by the way) – see this photo of the band on an album cover at Amazon [I will get a small commission if you buy it], or this band photo from Pinterest.
Well. not only did they have the white ones, as also worn by Trevor Horn in the Video Killed The Radio Star video, and some electric blue ones, and navy blue, and purple, and pink, and red ones (as worn by Jim Martin, guitarist from Faith No More on their most successful albums in at least one of their videos), but they also had a lavender pearl that screamed “old person” (to my eyes) and – most striking of all – a set of dark green frames.
These are unusual choices, distinctive choices, not to be made – or used – lightly – but when one is appropriate, this can (and should) be the only color that you have to mention in a description.
Which brings me to a related point:
Descriptions of color in narrative
It’s easy to go overboard when describing an environment. “Faded green paint on a sign, blue paint on a door, straw-colored walls with blood red draperies, dark brown tables, and golden ale with a foaming white head” might be a correct description of an Inn, but it’s too much color all at once.
Instead, use color once, or mention it once, in a description, and let the players fill in the colors of the rest in their minds’ eye. Save the other color elements for later mention when you need to dress something up or call attention to it.
“The sign outside the inn is faded and almost illegible now, but once it was green, and read ‘The Emerald Arms’.”
After the PCs decide to enter:
“The straw-colored walls inside seem to radiate the warmth of the fire, making the interior inviting. Locals mingle; one yells “Get inside and close the door, ye’re letting all the cold in!”
When the PCs enter and sit:
“You find a dark-stained table that might or might not be purple or brown, stained by ales, spilled wines, and dark smoke. You converse amongst yourselves for a few minutes, but soon notice many of the locals looking pointedly at the empty table spaces in front of you. Perhaps you should attract the attention of a barmaid and order something.”
When the PCs decide to order some drinks to better fit in,
“A round of rich golden ales in tall thick glasses are soon deposited on the tables. Those who like ale will be salivating, and even those who don’t will think that they look tolerable.”
Later:
“Kloder,” [invented PC Name], “your attention is drawn to a black motif sewn onto the blood-red drapes. You can’t see enough of the design to be sure, but you….” which leads into whatever plot development is to occur at the location.
Breaking up the description, and adding bits to it as they become relevant, gives players time to integrate the picture you are painting with words into their perceptions of the location without overwhelming them.
Notice, too, that the descriptions don’t mention other sensory inputs – sounds and smells – and don’t bother to actually describe the flavor of the ale, for that matter. These are implied by, and can be assumed from, the description – they only need mentioning if there is some relevance.
“A pig with a withered brown apple in its mouth roasts on a spit over the fire, slowly turned by a barmaid. It doesn’t seem ready to serve yet, but the scent of cooking pork promises an at least adequate meal in an hour or two.” – could be inserted just about anywhere in the narrative, for example.
The other thing that happens when the description is fragmented in this way is that the players can interact with the scene. Sometimes the GM prompts them, when its the next logical step in the sequence, and this sets the pace of the scene – here, the GM is trying for a relaxing night at the inn. If he wanted a different, less welcoming tone, he could have described the locals as surly, the looks given the PCs as dark and unfriendly, and the buzz within the room as resentful, with many mentions of ‘traveling nobodies’ that the PCs assume refers to them.
With those changes, the tone of the encounter changes, and becomes a building tension. The roasting pig is no longer relevant, and much of the suggested text would either change or be left out entirely. It would no longer be the GM’s place to hint at purchasing ales, for example – whether or not the PCs order drinks, and what they order, and whether or not that soothes or inflames the situation, is all up to them. The focus of the narrative has changed.
Use the same technique when describing PCs – mention the color of one key item and let the players assume the rest, then supplement that one item with more as you go. “The halfling’s waistcoat is an expensive-looking peacock blue, but several sizes too large…”
Neighboring Colors can Bleed
The final thing that I wanted to mention (but forgot) belongs in the latter part of the article, when I was discussing the color wheel.
I had intended to include a section on visual bleed, in which the character of one color is influenced by another color placed beside it.
Sometimes, this effect can be harmonious, and at other times, it can look appalling. The effects can be difficult to predict – you can have happy accidents and unlucky disasters.
Take a look at the examples above. Notice how the purple looks more brown when the yellow squiggle is present. Observe how the same yellow squiggle looks somewhat paler in tone when set against the blue – while the blue looks a little darker and more saturated. But put the same yellow squiggle against a red backdrop and the yellow feels more intense and looks slightly more orange or golden in color. Take my word for it, or test it for yourself with a color picker: the two purple blocks are the same color, and so are the two blue blocks, and all three of the yellow squiggles. Any differences you see are purely (a) subjective, or (b) processing errors – with the processing going on in your eyes and head.
Let’s say that you’re thinking about the colors of someone’s car, and what impact that has on their mood. The interior is a yellowish beige, not as strong as the yellow streaks. The larger areas show the influence of the combination of the yellow trim with the primary car color, as experienced by the driver – a purple car looks brown and dirty all the time, the interior looks more faded in a blue car, and more energetic and extreme in a red car.
Of course, there are a few members of any population who won’t see any difference, and will think I’m making this stuff up. If you’re one of them, congratulations – you process color more accurately than most of us!
There’s always something more to say on the subject of color (and I have another shortish article on the prep-board already), but that’s all that I intended to include in Monday’s article – but didn’t. I hope you’ve all enjoyed this little extra treat!
- RPGs In Technicolor, Part 1
- RPGs In Technicolor, Part 2
- RPGs In Technicolor, Part 2a: Supplemental Afterthoughts
Discover more from Campaign Mastery
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Comments Off on RPGs In Technicolor, Part 2a: Supplemental Afterthoughts