[This is part of a series on “internationalizing” our approach to EBOW and low-tech design. In the spirit of our recipes, we think that new creativity can come from international sources, and it is especially valuable to rethink our assumptions about “low-tech” and resource constraints.]

How can a single postcard launch a game with a storyworld and connect us more deeply to the real world? Forgetting to do this is not just a missed opportunity – but can undermine or even mask local context, culture and even risk exploiting the place for the game’s own ends. 

Dual Storytelling: Our visual solution is to create a postcard that blends two kinds of worldbuilding: one style for “in world” communication that is visually separate from the “out of world” materials for participants. They coexist – but with distinct colors, and a different authorial stance, and different motivations since a great activity has some intrinsic motivation that can overlap with the more extrinsic motivation of connecting to local restaurants and culture. 

The value: If we get our visual metaphors right, we can respect the integrity of local community narratives – and bring the two narratives to build in complementary ways. (We first saw this tactic in work by the Rorschach Theatre Company with their mail-order storytelling initiative in DC called “Psychogeographies.” Our contribution is to apply it to augmented/extended reality, and to generalize the approach.)

Case Study of a “Postcard in Two Registers”

Below, we create a postcard as part of our work in the Mexican town of Queretaro. Our explicit goal is to create a kind of peripheral vision – drawing attention to additional cultural assets and signals that the experience extends beyond the core mechanics. 

The front of the postcard exists fully within the world of the game; the language, tone, design, and visuals all exist within the context of the game world. “In-world” communication can offer guidance, clues, or other information that helps players understand the game, how to engage with it, or any rules that they may need to know to play. Since this communication is separate from “out-of-world” communication, the tone and voice of “in-world” materials can remain consistent, reducing any potential friction for players discovering how to play, especially for the first time. 

When the postcard is flipped, the player is actively leaving the game world and returning to reality for information that is more practical or important to them as people, not players. We chose to communicate who made the game, how long they can expect to commit to (should they choose to play), answer any questions about data privacy, and redirect engaged players to cultural assets/landmarks and local small businesses. We suspect the physical action of flipping the card is helpful for providing that clear line of what is being said in versus out of the game world. Without the need for crafting a way to communicate this information without being too jarring inside of the game world, the communication is free to be as clear as it needs to be for gaining a shared understanding amongst players.

What makes this approach advanced/intermediate? 

The design holds two aesthetics and tones at once, using different colors and phrasing to distinguish the game world from everything around it. This approach borrows from theater studies, and specifically how different scenes can each have their own specific feel, mood, and cast of characters. More simple games are focused just on sustaining a single narrative inside the suspended disbelief of the narrative (or what game scholars might call crossing the magic circle). What is unusual here is that we go outside that narrative, and design experiences that are “out of world” for the game – but in the “real world” of the neighborhood!).

In terms of skill level, this approach makes more sense for intermediate makers, not so much for technology difficulty, but for the mental balancing act of doing a core game and the print that brings peripheral vision – including the topsight for user choices, orientation and multiple adventures to send them on. Above we documented one way to design beyond the game alone. Success means an increase in the value of the overall experience by connecting to out-of-game activities, including side quests, cultural touchpoints, and things for people to do even when they are not actively “players.” (Katie Salen has called this space of design the “big-G game.”) 

International at the center

International work is an ideal place to develop our creative toolbox to address the “separateness of play.” Why? Quite simply, we already have to pay special attention to being outsiders, how we position ourselves, and the legitimacy of our work. 

It also helps to be doing international placemaking work in particular (e.g., “placekeeping”), since it is both about activating spaces and simultaneously elevating local actors and agendas. Again, we already are under pressure to be reflective about our positioning – and how we cross boundaries.

Deeper Philosophy and Theory: A General Approach for Postcards that Bridge Worlds

In a fascinating way, the power of play depends on first creating room for exploration and playfulness. In other words, outcomes like learning facts and changing behavior have to be slightly deferred and remain voluntary – not be rushed or forced. For our narrative, the playful narrative must be separate-yet-linked to the community story. (Scholars of game studies might say that the impact of play can require some separateness – the “separateness of play.” The idea is that powerful play often depends on being both separate in magical ways from reality (see the “magic circle” in game studies), and simultaneously connecting us more deeply to real places.) 

One name for the joint approach to recognizing the “in-world” narratives and visuals alongside “out of world” is Dual-Stream Worldbuilding. We might also call the visual design “biphasic” to emphasize how we are mixing the two stories visually, almost like liquids mixing in a glass beaker. 

To use our Queretaro postcard as an example to illustrate this idea, the front of the post card is a portal exclusively into the story world.

This portal features narrative hooks, visual wayfinding, and a QR code, all of which are serving the purpose of drawing players into the “magic circle” of play without directly calling out anything in reality. With the use of real world locations in the narrative, there is a blending of reality that merges into the narrative world where play is encouraged. 

In contrast, the back of the post card is a portal exclusively into the reality that surrounds the player and the game. 

The first reality portal highlights the context of the game, the project it is connected to, and the institution(s) involved. This context is vital to assuring players of their data privacy and serves as the “sniff test” for the social contract of their participation. 

The second reality portal highlights the physical world around the player, redirecting their attention and energy to local landmarks, institutions, and businesses in the immediate area where they played the game.

Related concepts: Pioneers for navigating playful boundaries can be found in several traditions, including in theater (e.g., “breaking the fourth wall”), in linguistics (e.g., code switching), in experiential education (e.g., transfer to new domains), and in game studies (e.g., blurring the magic circle). Our lab seeks to apply these insights to local play. 

What’s Next?

As we continue our iEBOW work, we plan to keep exploring and testing designs built on this “in-world” and “out-of-world” player communication model. By continuing to split player communication into these layers, we can better define the affordances each offers. We are particularly interested in understanding how this approach might help redirect player energy outwards, using the game to highlight the local assets, further connecting the game experience to the place where play begins.

[Originally posted June 2026, then significantly revised for Oct 2026.]