Playing with Loss in the Hive
A look at the TTRPG "When Silence Comes" and how it handles a crossroads between dementia and science-fiction.
About two months ago here at The Holistic Dice, we covered what new innovations in the tabletop genre could look like, through the theme of the Hive Mind. Well, our Help the Hive game jam is complete and it’s time to see what folks made as a result of that prompt. There were three submissions, one of which we’ll chat about today, and two of the others who will be highlighted in future article(s).
When Silence Comes
“Expert musicians portray awe-inspiring precision, timing, and phrasing and may be thought to partake in a ‘hive-mind.’ Such a shared musical absorption is characterized by a heightened empathic relation, mutual trust, and a sense that the music “takes over,” thus uniting the performers’ musical intentions”- Into the Hive-Mind: Shared Absorption and Cardiac Interrelations in Expert and Student String Quartets
When Silence Comes by Narrative Alchemy seeks to bring a sort of harmony to loss, portraying the emotional toll, grief, and small joys found within dementia. The author takes inspiration from their own life and family, alongside various hive-influences, to help handle and hold a space for play on a fairly tough subject.
A Jenga tower represents the mental and emotional fragility of a telepathic community coping with a member's dementia. Players remove blocks from the tower, each time contributing a memory by writing emotions, actions, people, or places on the block. These memories grow a story and are shared with the person nearing death as a way of preserving their connection. If the tower partially collapses, it symbolizes a severe cognitive decline in the loved one, and the group shifts to sharing memories more quickly. If the entire tower falls, it marks the individual's death, signifying the loss and grief the community now faces.
This has got me thinking about the overlap between topics of play and grief. Lately, my partner and I have been watching Bluey to unwind after a long day of work, and one episode, "Space," stands out to me. The characters play make-believe in a spaceship, with one child drawn to a black hole—a place of unknown hazard. Entering it, she confronts a childhood memory tied to fear and possible abandonment. While the conflict from that past moment was already resolved, the feelings lingered, and the play allowed her to process those complex emotions. A similar use of play is seen in “Copycat,” where make-believe helps the characters replicate and self-manage the passing of an injured bird.
Play is fun, but holds purpose. It has even been recognized by the United Nations High Commission for Human Rights as a right of every child.
“Play allows children to use their creativity while developing their imagination, dexterity, and physical, cognitive, and emotional strength. Play is important to healthy brain development. It is through play that children at a very early age engage and interact in the world around them. Play allows children to create and explore a world they can master, conquering their fears while practicing adult roles, sometimes in conjunction with other children or adult caregivers. As they master their world, play helps children develop new competencies that lead to enhanced confidence and the resiliency they will need to face future challenges. Undirected play allows children to learn how to work in groups, to share, to negotiate, to resolve conflicts, and to learn self-advocacy skills.”
- The Importance of Play in Promoting Healthy Child Development and Maintaining Strong Parent-Child Bonds
Play is sometimes the only way a child can express grief.1 While games are often associated with children, here we are as adults, still playing games. The benefits of play do not disappear as we grow older. Connecting back to When Silence Comes, it may not be the easiest game to introduce to friends, but the ability to explore loss and the complexities of dementia through play is a powerful and meaningful approach
I believe this system does a wonderful job of expanding not only the hive-mind genre but also the possibilities of therapeutic play. The mechanics are thoughtfully intertwined, with the Jenga tower representing the fragile nature of memories and the inevitability of collapse. As players remove pieces, knowing the collapse will come, they must also navigate how to handle it.
The use of a hive mind not only reflects the loss of a loved one but also the loss of parts of oneself and one's connections to that individual in a deeply shared space. With pass the journal mechanics, each player contributes to a memory, further linking everyone together. While the grief experienced in the game is fictional, the act of engaging with grief through play could provide a way to process and cope with real-life loss when that silence eventually comes.
I appreciate the author's effort to connect the game to medical and scientific concepts like mirror neurons, which are "neurons that activate both when an individual performs an action and when they observe someone else performing the same or similar action."2. However, I do want to note when addressing sensitive topics like dementia, it could be good to extend the same care to other conditions as well. For instance, the introduction makes a very quick mention towards schizophrenia. This was not in any grave or problematic way, but I would be curious to see that aspect expanded upon further if included.
In comic books for example, you often don’t see the ideas of curing cancer utilized as to avoid unintentionally diminishing the real experiences of readers. Likewise, simplifying other complex conditions such as schizophrenia should be approached similarly. I don’t think that means these should be removed entirely, as for some, weaving these topics into gameplay might feel fun and connective to said experience. It’s inclusive. Addressing these topics thoughtfully can provide a space for reflection and dialogue, allowing players to explore and process difficult experiences in a more accessible way — just as we’ve been discussing about everything else.
The key is to balance sensitivity with creativity, ensuring that the portrayal of complex conditions remains respectful while enriching the narrative or gameplay. I do believe this game achieves that balance nicely. The worldbuilding is engaging, allowing everyone to contribute to their individual characters within the collective, while also influencing the collective as a whole. Additionally, it encourages players to take home pieces of the Jenga tower as keepsakes of memories.
With that, I hope you let yourself play through any emotion that comes. Let me know if you’ve come across any similar tabletop games, especially those that use the medium to explore emotions beyond the typical adventures of ragtag heroes.
While I’m still in that cycle of half-finished games before jumping to the next idea, When Silence Comes really inspired me, particularly with its focus on harm reduction. I've even started drafting a matrix game where two players work to minimize the global impact of emerging hive minds. We'll see if anything comes of it, and I’ll also be writing the other two entries into the Help the Hive game jam soon!
In the meantime, be sure to check out When Silence Comes by Narrative Alchemy, available for free on itch.io. It's incredible that they put something this thoughtful together in just a few hours—definitely share some love!
