Cold doorstep, closed door
All right, luvvies? It's summer and I'm enjoying the long, bright days but not so much the heat. When this reaches you I'll actually have escaped to a cooler latitude for a bit, like a small animal hissing at the sun from under a shady rock.
Thank you to all the audio drama luvvies on tumblr who boosted last issue's list of podcast recommendation letters! And thanks to all you subscribers who responded with a thumbs-up to my offer to start telling you a story here. Get your wine and ice cream now – our feature presentation begins shortly.
running order
tonight's performance: in which an uninvited guest is not welcomed
asides: what's new with Merely Roleplayers, what I'm making and enjoying, #pinspiration
fin: has your life ever imitated this art?
feature performance: the door on Bronze Street
“I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for it,” said Marielena, “but I want to introduce you to my brother.”
Callum arrived at the house on Bronze Street about half an hour after the party was meant to have started, and found the front door shut and no Marielena waiting for him, which didn’t leave him with a lot of options. He blew into his cupped hands in their fingerless gloves until his fingertips were warm enough to work a touchscreen, and texted Mari to see if she was already inside. No response after a couple of minutes. Callum told himself she must be driving, but wasn’t especially convinced.
He limply lifted and dropped the iron knocker a few times and fluttered the letterbox a bit, just so he could say he’d done his due diligence when Mari eventually turned up and found him shivering on the doorstep. Through the letterbox, Callum could make out the sounds of an evening easing unhurriedly towards liveliness. Music, shuffling feet and smiling, comfortable voices. The volume of the voices rose for a few moments to compete with the door knocker, but as expected, no one came to answer it.
aside the first: see—be seen
I made my streaming debut in June, playing a snake that thinks it's a lawyer with Actual Play UK.
We were playing I'm Not Lion by Maddy Searle, a competitive improvised courtroom drama game, where the jury's verdict is based not on the strength of the arguments, but on the number of animal-based puns the lawyers make. Also the courtroom is a zoo and everyone is animals. I was prosecuting a dolphin for impersonating a business walrus.
I've now played with three different Realms of Peril & Glory cast members – Naomi Clarke in The Queen's Dead on Merely Roleplayers, and Zachary Fortais-Gomm and Maddy Searle in I'm Not Lion. I feel like I should try to complete the set now. Also in I'm Not Lion: Natalia from Dungeons & Dragons podcast Trolls of the Two Tonne Bridges, and Jordan from Modified Roll (one of the organisers of Actual Play UK).
feature presentation continues
Wait on the doorstep in the cold, or walk back and wait in the car? Callum had spent enough time with only his own thoughts for company to know that if he went back to the car, the next choice was to keep waiting or to drive home. He also knew which way that decision would go. Once he was behind the wheel it would be too easy.
It was always easier to leave. To not bother. To not ask yet another thing of Mari.
And if he kept on only ever doing what was easier, things would never change. He’d always be dependent on her. Better to lean on her a bit harder now so he wouldn’t have to quite so much later. That’s what the two of them had agreed. That’s why he was here. Why she was meant to be.
The text was delivered okay, but still unread. Callum sent a chaser just in case. Then he flexed blood into his fingers, stuck them in his trouser pockets and hunched down on the doorstep to wait.
It was twenty minutes before another guest showed up. The host had a lot of friends with a lot of free time, and was the sort of person whose friends would all want to keep their hand in – one of the reasons Mari had presented this party as a good option – so where was everyone? Were they all determined to be fashionably late? How late was that, anyway? Callum didn’t get invited to enough parties to have a good sense.
aside the second: the world's a stage—& we're all Merely Roleplayers
Now playing in the Studio: The Queen's Dead, a downfall in 3 acts
One year before the Dawn prophesied to end the reign of death, the Lich Queen’s dread courtiers make plans to prevent it – even though it might mean working together. Guest starring Fiona Howat (What Am I Rolling?, The DM's Book Club) and Naomi Clarke (Realms of Peril & Glory, Who Lives Who Dice, The Secret of St Kilda).
Coming next
in the Main House: Vigil: Chief/Exec, with Natalie Winter as Gwynned, shieldmaiden of Morrigan; Marta Da Silva as Harper, chosen of Shadow; Josh Yard as Jinny Greenteeth, consort of the Forgetful One; and Vikki as Renko, furloughed agent of DoOm
in the Studio: The Office Party, a heroic fantasy team-building exercise starring Natalie Winter, Strat, Chris Starkey and Dave, compered by Josh Yard, playing Quest
in the Main House: Vigil: Fear Itself, with Alexander Pankhurst as Graham, Ellen Gould as Jess Butterworth, and Chris Starkey as Cameron Jarvis
feature presentation continues
The newcomer wasn’t Marielena, and wasn’t on the list of expected guests Mari had shown him. The way their dress was rumpled, they had to have come on the bus, which wouldn’t be typical of the set at this party as far as Callum understood them. The drape of their long hair had survived the journey better. They switched a deep handbag from one shoulder to the other, extracting a bottle of wine from it in the process, and took no notice of Callum. Callum, who had plenty of practice observing people who didn’t know they were being observed, scanned the newcomer’s face and tried to figure out why this person with their dress, long hair, makeup and handbag wasn’t reading to him as straightforwardly feminine, but as someone choosing to present as feminine just for this moment.
The front door was opened before the newcomer could knock twice. Vivian Hithercombe, the owner of the house and host of the party, stood centred in the open doorway, splitting the spill of brightness from inside like a blade, so it fell on the paving to either side of the newcomer. And on Callum, who sprang up from the doorstep ready to take his chance.
“We were beginning to wonder,” said Hithercombe. The photos Callum had seen of her softened her, maybe intentionally. Up close, she was more jagged, more of a fountain pen scratch than a brushstroke in her sheer black dress.
“Wonder no more,” said the newcomer, “here I am.”
aside the third: create—consume
Writing: the as-yet untitled story you're reading!; Dead Weight (one pilot episode complete, two more being retooled)
Reading: The Migration by Helen Marshall, Revenant Gun by Yoon Ha Lee (reread), The Caves of Steel by Isaac Asimov, a big pile of roleplaying games I've kickstarted or bought in bundles but hadn't got round to reading before now
Listening: Murray Mysteries (Knöves Storytelling), Unwanted (Pale Waves), The Age of Pleasure (Janelle Monáe)
feature presentation concludes
Callum looked from one to the other as they held each other’s stare. Hithercombe a step higher, heels together, arms crossed and elbows crooked. Newcomer aslant, weight on one foot, the wine bottle dangling from one clenched fist.
The newcomer moved first, straightening the dangling arm to put the bottle between themself and Hithercombe, like an exorcist with a crucifix.
“Or I can always go,” they said.
With the grace of a spider, Hithercombe accepted the bottle and drew the newcomer up the step and into an embrace. “No,” she said. “You’re here now.”
Callum squeezed past into the house, unseen, unnoticed. On the way past, he lifted the newcomer’s purse from their bag. More out of habit than curiosity, he told himself – but wasn’t especially convinced.
aside the last: accessorise—advertise
Left: from venerable London vintage shop Rokit. (I'm a bit priced out of there these days, and I prefer Beyond Retro, but they don't hand out badges, so.) Right: picked up this month from the Pride collection at the Barbican Centre shop.
fin: readers—writers
Thank you for reading until the end! Have you ever had an experience like Callum – being stood up by the one person you were relying on to be your way in to a crowd? Speaking of Callum, don't you think there's something a bit weird about him? Tell me in an email (just hit reply) or tag your answer on the socials with #FoggyOutline.