Costuming mania for Feast of the Minotaur

As I mentioned, I got my Feast of the Minotaur casting for Intercon, and I was pleasantly surprised to learn I would be playing Princess Ariadne. I want to look good for this role, so I found myself browsing the Internet looking for a suitably Grecian dress, and before long I was feeling obsessed with finding the right one.

Looking for something as literal as "Ancient Greek" dress or costume mostly turned up cheap, cheesy-looking Halloween-type costumes, which I definitely didn't want to go with. But I found when I changed my parameters to "Grecian" or "Greek style" dress, the real-clothing options they turned up often looked much more believably Greek. It gave me a lot of dresses with crinkles or rouching, empire waists, gold trim, and flowy lines to choose from.

My preferences were a little strict going in. I wanted something pretty and sexy but not too short, as I thought a long skirt would look more period, so that cut a lot of club dresses that had other correct details. I also wanted it in a color, preferably a jewel tone, but not black or white. A folded-over waist would have been technically accurate, but it's not the most flattering style for my figure. But eBay, wonder that it is, provided.

I looked at lots of things, including white ones that it occurred to me I might be able to dye, and discounted a lot of nice pieces because they were more than I wanted to spend. I finally narrowed it down to two options, both of which I really loved.

 

After much agonizing, I finally went with the magenta-red one. Its sizing was likely to fit me better, and it was a little bit less expensive. But I love the other one too, and it probably looks a little more Greek. Oh, well. I'm sure what I chose will work fine. Now all I need is a pair of sandals to go with it, and a way to do my hair in a suitably Grecian style. But I highly recommend that anyone who needs an Ancient Greek dress for Feast of the Minotaur or other classical game try looking on eBay, as there were a ton of great possibilities.

Good larp news burning through my gloom

Stressed. Overworked, overtired, and over-scheduled. Panic over it set in yesterday at the first possible time, and in my upset I was a complete ass to katiescarlett29*. She was gracious and understanding, but I feel terrible about it. I will make it up to you, dear, once I have my head back on straight. I promise. I got a decent chunk of schoolwork done last night, which helps, but there's still a fair bit more to go.

On the positive side, the larp fairy knew I am longing for larpy things, and she has granted my wish. In lovely news for our little roleplaying community, ninja_report* has released the schedule for Festival 2012! I am excited just looking at it. As for the games I will be running, The Stand will be 9AM Saturday morning, while Paranoia will be 2PM Sunday afternoon. That leaves three possible slots for me to be a player. Ideally I have a break somewhere in there, so I will try to limit myself to signing up for two. We have tiered signups this year (yay, natbudin*!) so that means one must prioritize. My first-round choice, no question, will be Jesriah, the noir-style game set in an insane asylum within morethings5*'s fascinating roleplaying world, written in collaboration with lightgamer* and ninja_report*. That takes care of Friday evening. My second-round choice I think has to be Folding the River, written by wired_lizard* and mllelaurel*, a futuristic sci-fi game that may or may not involve time travel. They always run such great larps, so I'm excited. That will take up Saturday evening. Unfortunately it is across from High Rollers, acousticshadow2*'s World War II-era caper game which I've heard excellent things about. I've already told Tory and Lily I'm going for Folding the River, but if I don't get in, I will try to get into High Rollers instead. There are some pretty cool-looking games in the Saturday afternoon slot-- bleemoo* and staystrong62805*'s Vampire game, zapf* and ninja_report*'s Edwardian game, and laura47*'s amnesia game --but I think I need to have at least one free period, where I can go home and take a nap before I die.

The first signup round will open at 7PM this coming Monday, February 6th, so to be sure you get your first choice, register for the con at the website, then be ready to jump in once Shannon throws open the gates!

In other larp-con-related news, I got my casting for my other game at Intercon, The Feast of the Minotaur! It's an ancient Greek mythology-themed game centering around the story of Theseus and the Minotaur. I will be playing Princess Ariadne, who in the story was the daughter of King Minos of Crete who falls madly in love with the Athenian prince. No character sheet yet, but that sounds promising that I'll have a lot to do. I will have to come up with a pretty pretty Greek princess costume between now and March. Once I get this homework assignment done, I think I can afford to give that a little time and attention.

Musing on larps I could write

Harrumph. I know I'm not supposed to be focusing on this, but I am feeling frustrated and restless, so I welcome anything that might relieve it a bit, and right now, I want to muse about larps and larp writing.

Currently my name is listed as author for six larps. They are, in chronological order, Alice, Oz, Paranoia, The Labor Wars, Resonance, and The Stand. Alice, Oz, and The Stand I wrote alone. The other three I was a member of the writing team, The Labor Wars and Resonance with Alleged Entertainment, Paranoia with Bernie, Joe, lightgamer*, and witticaster*. I find I write best when there is a clear hierarchy of creative control in a game. It is not easy for me to collaborate well, so it helps if I don't see the project as "my idea" when I do. As a guest of Alleged's, fleshing out notions conceived by another person, I did not have the problem where I was so invested in the concept that didn't want to concede to someone else's idea. Paranoia was Bernie's baby, which also made it easier to step back. I'm not so good at working with others on projects that are MY idea unless there is a clear understanding that I get the final word.

Most of those larps have or will have been run quite a bit. Alice has run five times, Oz has run six. The Stand and Paranoia will have their third runs at Festival, while at Intercon Resonance will have its fourth. The Labor Wars has only run once, which I know I would like to put on again if time and my co-writers permit. I tend to be very concerned about whether or not a game has run too many times recently, as I have a fear of the larp not filling. That's why Alice has not come out in a couple years now, and I think Oz should not come out again anytime soon either. Which makes me itch for a new piece to debut. I love the feeling of people rushing to play in my larp, and I get a huge amount of validation for my work when players enjoy the piece.

I have several concepts for larps that I could write. Some of them have been rolling around in my head for several years and for some reason I just never got to them. It's worth mentioning that I thought of most of these considerably before The Stand, which had the weirdest genesis ever-- I just found myself bored at work one day thinking about how I liked cowboys, and would like to write a cowboy larp. I was suddenly jotting down ideas and becoming engaged, when I became struck with the desire to bid it for Intercon. It was that bidding that forced me to work on it as opposed to any other game, which is why it got finished while these others are still just ideas.

I know someday I must write that Peter Pan larp that I've always been talking about, to complete my planned triptych of larps based on what are most likely the three most iconic children's stories in the Western Canon. I will call the game simply Pan, both to fit with the punchiness of Alice and Oz, and to fit in with a notion I am adopting from the movie Hook that Pan is used as a title. The trouble is, while I have a few vague conceptual ideas, and I think I want to go with a kind of fairyland setting, I don't really know what the plot is. I went into writing most of my other games with an idea of that already, so I think that may be what's been stopping me from really digging into it.

Imperium has really been nagging at me. I love the Ancient Roman setting, and I am really enjoying the possibilities that are open to me because I have decided to have my characters be only vague analogues to figures from Roman history so I can deal with some of the same issues but take them in totally different directions. I've had a couple really exciting ideas in the last few days, which pull me more and more towards wanting to work on it, but as it's currently my newest idea, maybe it shouldn't get priority. I am amused by the fact that I seem to write "series" of games-- there's my children's-story-inspired triptych, and apparently there's also my pseudo-historical period games like this one and The Stand.

Jared and I have been working on and off for years on our New York Mafia game, Men of Respect. I love the transitional period in the history of Italian-American gangs, the time immediately post-World War II in which the Godfather is set, after the Golden Age was over but before things just devolved into plain old street crime. We have a lot of work done and a ton of good ideas, but probably because we've never set a work schedule for it we've only ever managed to chip away at it off and on. Maybe the time is approaching to set meetings for it and lay deadlines, because this I think has the potential to be a truly epic game. (I wonder if it counts among the "pseudo-historical" type.)

Then there's one that I have never talked about much because I'm not sure if it's a good or workable idea, but it's been kicking around in my head for several years now. It is tentatively called Jabberwocky, and would be designed as a sequel to my first game Alice. Suggested to me by Jared, it would be examining what happened to the state of Wonderland now that the Jabberwock is gone. I've always been unsure about it for several reasons. First, larp sequels are a tricky proposition. It's hard for them not to spoil the content of the previous game. Also, I'm concerned what the hook would be now that the one hopeful thread that had been in the storyline has by now left Wonderland to never come back. I don't think I want to just tell a story of lots of horrible people fighting to screw one another. But maybe the story can be that without the major suppressing force of hope there, there's a chance of people rising out of the despair that holds them there. Alice was a rather successful game, liked by the majority of its players, so maybe there is an audience for this one.

Lastly, as I mentioned recently, I would love to write a small short game that I could put together quickly and easily just to have something new and fun to run. I am imagining it as a two-hour game where the players are explicitly confined to a tightly limited space with an interactive environment that facilitates the movement of the plot. The trouble is, I have no idea what the circumstance or the story should be. That's always my problem when I come up with the project without already having an idea for it. Somebody give me a scenario, and if I feel inspired by it, I would love to write a quick, short, fun larp for it.

Signal boost: Miskatonic Larp Weekend

Repost from interconlarp*:

A weekend of Lovecraftian crazyness is happening!
Sign up for any/all of the three Miskatonic Larps (though be aware that Class Reunion 2000 has some spoilers for the other two):
Miskatonic Class Reunion
Miskatonic Archeological Expedition
Miskatonic Class Reunion 2000

When: March 16 - 17 (depending on which larps you do)
Where: WPI

How do I sign up?
1. Go to this website:
http://miskatonic2012.concentral.net/events/646
2. Sign up for the larps you will be attending

I have already played all three of these games, so I will  not be attending myself, but I can attest that they are a lot of fun, so if you can make it, you should definitely play some or all of this cool Lovecraftian trilogy.

Second cheddar update

I finally remembered to ask my dad to take a picture of the cheddar we made now that it's been waxed. It had to dry for several days before the waxing could happen, and by that time I'd already returned to Waltham, so Dad had to do it on his own. He mentioned to me that the cheese seemed to be coming along, requiring just a little bathing in vinegar in order to prevent the growth of mold. So I asked him to take a snapshot of the wheels so I could see what they looked like. He said the wax was called yellow on the package but it came out white, in strong contrast to how yellow the cheese itself looked after it dried. He laid it out very prettily, on the island in their kitchen on top of the cheese board Mom got him for Christmas and the end-grain cutting board I gave Mom for her birthday. Very lovely, no?

Savonarola costume, part II

I finished my Savonarola costume for Venezia this past Saturday. After finishing the vest, I just had to attach the hood. That turned out to be tougher than I thought it would be. In the end I used a tutorial on the Internet for making a hood on a Jedi robe. I cut a large rectangle, folded it in half to make a square, and sewed up one of the sides adjacent to the fold. It needed to be attached to the vest on the side opposite the fold. I pinned it along the neckline, but that left a lot of loose fabric just hanging. Unfortunately I never did figure out how to make the neck fitted while keeping the volume of the rest of the hood, so I just gathered it and attached it a little ways down the vest front. It came out looking pretty decent, even though the hood had a tendency to slide back down my head. I put it on over a black poet shirt, black leggings, black leather belt, and Renaissance boots. My hematite rosary hanging off the belt completed the look. Here is the final ensemble, from the front and from the back, and I am pretty pleased with it.

Creative restlessness

As you can perhaps tell by the fact that this is my third post of the day, I am feeling ruminative and mentally unsettled. I certainly have a lot on my plate, most of which I put there myself, but I am trying to determine what I should be focusing on that will soothe a certain creative restlessness I'm feeling. I am not sure if I need more things to do to serve as light alternatives to my big, work-intensive priorities, or if I need to not take anything else on so I can balance my project load with relaxation.

Schoolwork is the big priority; my first due date is February 13th, about two and a half weeks from now, so I'd better get cracking. I think this Sunday, which is mostly free, will be devoted to homework. I usually need big chunks of time to really dig into writing. Then there's also The Tailor of Riddling Way. I am proud of myself that I've finished writing the first two episodes, and even gotten one scene recorded. But I think it's going to need two more episodes at least, so at best I'm only halfway through, and there's a ton more recording to do. I am feeling good about and getting satisfaction out of this project, but it's requiring a lot of mental energy. I kind of wish I was working on something easy that gave me the same feeling.

What with all the talk of larps, naturally my thoughts turn to my own larp writing. One of the reasons I got so absorbed in larp writing was that it has a built-in audience and is easy to find a venue to get that "feedback from the public" to give me the validation I crave. So right now, the idea of working on my Ancient Roman larp idea Imperium has become very attractive. But I do not want to let larp writing get in the way of the other writing that I should be prioritizing right now. And of couse this excitement never takes into account the fact that larps too always eventually hit the point where writing it is a slog. It's just something different, something that hasn't become tough yet, that I can imagine the fun of running to player adulation.

I wish I had an idea for a short, sweet, easy larp that I could write without a lot of time or effort that would still turn out well. Sadly, as many times as this has occurred to me, I've never been able to think of anything that I could pull off in that way. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd be open to hearing them. It would be nice to have such a larp that I can run, easy for me and fun for the players.

I think one of the reasons for my restlessness is that I miss acting. I've done a lot of writing and directing recently, two of my major passions, but it's been forever since I've acted in anything, and I'm feeling the deficit. It was looking like I might have been able to go out for a part in Lenny's indepedent study show, Cymbeline, which I was excited about. But it turns out that it goes up the same weekend as Festival of the Larps, one of the most important weekends of my year, so participating is out of the question. For some reason, Titus is also the same weekend as Intercon, making both larp cons happening over shows. I am very disappointed about Lenny's show. I have another audition lined up for this Sunday night, but I'm not optimistic that it will work out any different than the last twenty-odd times before it.

Festival schedule almost ready

Our lovely Festival con chair ninja_report* just sent out the preliminary schedule for Larpocalypse. It looks to be a very good con. Shannon looks to have balanced the schedule nicely, meaning there should be a good variety of games in every time period with an appropriate number of slots. And she and natbudin* have arranged to have tiered signups-- as in, one signup total per person for the first round, two signups total for the second round, and then as many signups as you like for the third round --which Festival has needed for a while now. We've had a problem in the past when people who logged in at 7:03 rather than 7:00 when signups opened and got shut out of their preferred games in every slot. Everybody should get a shot at getting into at least one of their first-choice games.

Oh, and I don't believe I ever mentioned the final verdict on which games I would be running. I did bid The Stand first, as I am quite proud of that game and it's only been run twice before. I'm excited to put it on again. My one concern is that maybe the map needs one more GM, so more traveling and exploring can happen at once. But after some discussion with my co-writers, we elected to run Paranoia as the second one. Despite having debuted it in 2009, if I remember correctly, because of its particular space requirements and the need for the right players (not everyone's into that style of game or the Paranoia setting), we've only run it two times. Bernie in particular has wanted to run it again. We've been waiting for the right time and place, but it did well at Festival in its maiden run so now seems as good a time as any. The edit we made for the second run was really strong, so players should be in for a treat.

My anniversary with Rhoda - six months of Hipster Feminist

I have officially been doing my joke Twitter feed Hipster Feminist for six months now. In that time period I've posted a joke almost daily, missing only a Sunday here and there. I'm up to one hundred and seventy-four tweets. They haven't always been as perfectly hilarious as I hoped they would be, but some of them turned out pretty damn funny, and I'm really proud of myself that I've kept it up. It would have been easy to space on it or get bored and quit, but I've enjoyed it and kept myself to it pretty well. Our girl Rhoda is even up to fifty-one followers now, double from three months ago, so I guess some people are liking it. :-)

I am thinking now about starting to do "storylines," chains of tweets that follow a plot about something going on in Rhoda's life. I'm not sure how feasible that is in the one-hundred-and-forty-character-per-post limit, but it might be trying it might be the logical next step. I do know some details from her life-- she comes from a totally regular, WASPy, upper-middle-class background that she wants strongly to disavow. Her parents are divorced and both remarried, and her hatred of her stepmom often makes her the target of Rhoda's feminist rage. (Which translates to I make her the whipping boy for a lot of the humor, poor woman.) Rhoda's dad is quite well-to-do, so she tries to distance herself from that privileged status while not realizing how much that privilege has shaped her. She has had and broken up with at least one boyfriend during this time. I never did settle on a last name for her, but I feel like it needs to be something dorky-sounding. That's not quite enough for a plot on its own, but I can flesh that out into something worth exploring. You know, as Charles Dickens showed us with the invention of the cliff hanger, creating the desire to find out what happens next in people is often the way to get them to follow your work.

Heh, that's what I need, more writing to work out, what with schoolwork, Tailor, and everything else on my plate. But work on my projects, the achievements I make on them, and the enjoyment of them by others gives me a lot of joy and satisfaction. So I'll take a stab at this. Of course any suggestions are welcome, particularly from those like morethings5* and blendedchaitea* who have offered hilarious ideas that I ended up using in the past.

Savonarola costume, part I

Did a bit of work on my costume for Venezia this Saturday. It wasn't anything terribly complicated; I just cut the curtain I had in half, then cut a chunk out of the center, and sewed up all the raw edges. It looks pretty neatly vestlike, though it ended up being a bit longer in the back than in the front. Not that I think it matters, I just meant for them to be even. Here's what it looks like so far.

All that remains is to figure out how to make the hood. The hood is the most important part of it, as it will give it the monastic look, and as I'm going for something slightly intense and imposing, I want to have something to stare creepily out from under at people. It will also help me look a little more masculine if my head and hair are concealed. I want the hood to be big and floppy, so I need a big piece of fabric, and I also need to figure out how to make it attach at the small neck opening while still having the volume I want in the part that will go over my head.

For the rest of it, I think I will wear a black poet shirt underneath it and black leggings with my Renaissance boots. Which also makes me think maybe I should use my black leather belt rather than the brown one I've got in the picture. Black and gold will be a nice color combination. I shall look both grand and terrifying, just as an agent of God should.

Off to figure out that hood.

Biweekly Theater Writing Challenge #13.9 - Tailor of Riddling Way, scene 2.5

Last night we finished recording the last voice in the scene we began with rigel* and thefarowl* last Saturday. Bernie and I snagged niobien* after the design meeting for Titus. We cleaned up the recording of the other two voices so that Carolyn would have something to respond to, and I'm very pleased with the results. We played the other two voice tracks and let Carolyn speak in the pauses we specifically left to accomodate her lines. Directing for voice recording is a different experience than directing for the stage, and the best ways of doing so are emerging to me slowly through practice. I'm really happy to have cast Carolyn, by the way. She has exactly the right sound for the character of Bethany Loring, and I loved working with her so much in Merely Players that I wanted to give her a speaking role and see how she did. Her enthusiasm and effort really comes through in her performance. The scene obviously hasn't really been edited yet, but technically we have a completely recorded piece. It's our first, the first of many we will need to do. :-)

This is probably the last scene in Episode 2, immediately following the large chunk that I posted yesterday. This scene went in a slightly different direction from how I expected it to. I wanted this part to place the issue of the class conflict overtly on the table. Della, who is a friend of Tom's and from a similar working-class background, forces him to think about how he may have to confront the realities of dealing with people of significantly higher social standing. I also included a hint that Tom's developing feelings for Alice. I was debating whether or not to include that in the story at all-- except maybe a suggestion that was where things were going at the very end, once everything is resolved --but I realized that can be a way of underscoring the class issue, of giving something for the two of them to deal with. Upping the conflict, I have learned from my grad program, is always an important part of designing a compelling story.

I am also looking forward to having inwaterwrit* in the role of Della. She was one of the few that couldn't make the read through, so I haven't had a chance to hear her yet, and I am very excited for when I finally do. I think she will do a great job bringing the sensibility, loyalty, and down-to-earth humanity that I want for the part. I also enjoy writing parts and dialogue with the actor in mind, so I've had her voice in my head as I put this scene together.

SCENE 2.5

SETTING: Tailor’s shop on Riddling Way

(Sound of sewing machine running. The bell rings as the front door opens. Steps coming inside.)

DELLA: Knock, knock. I need to see the tailor quite urgently. I’ve got a button emergency.

TOM: Della! To what do I owe the pleasure?

DELLA: Packed up a little something from the kitchen for you.

TOM: Ah, you shouldn’t have.

DELLA: Nothing fancy. Cold chicken, roast carrots and parsnips.

TOM: Sounds lovely, thank you. You know, you don’t have to keep bringing me dinner. I promise I won’t starve.

DELLA: Don’t kid yourself, Tom, I know how you are when you’re caught up in your work. Besides, you’ll fix my husband’s suits in trade. Nobody sews like you do.

TOM: Well, it’s a fair trade, then. I sure can’t cook like you.

DELLA: Good thing, then. We make one decent housewife between us!

(They laugh.)

TOM: Hand that coat over, then. I’ll spruce it up for you.

DELLA: Thanks, dear. You know I love to feed you, trade or no trade. You can use someone to take care of you.

TOM: However did I win myself so many lady champions? You know, the young niece of Miss Emma Loring stood up for me to the policemen at the estate.

DELLA: Must be your boyish charm. Or might be you seem helpless on your own.

TOM: Might be. Now, Della, I wanted to ask you… what do you know about that fellow that hangs around your pub sometimes? The one that was acting so strange the other day?

DELLA: You mean Kenny the ne’er-do-well? Little enough, I suppose. I spend more time chasing him off than getting acquainted with him.

TOM: Still. Anything at all you know, or you’ve noticed.

DELLA: Well… I know he’s been around for a pretty long while. Takes work once in a while minding rich folks’ horses. Though I wouldn’t think he works much at all. And he’s been in and out of the county jail more than his fair share.

TOM: What’s he done?

DELLA: Got drunk and acted like an ass, I’d guess. That seems to be his way.

TOM: Is he from around here?

DELLA: Think so. Would explain why he always comes back.

TOM: Hmmm.

DELLA: What makes you ask about him?

TOM: I think he’s got something to do with that bad business up at Loring’s End.

DELLA: Because of what he said at the pub the other day?

TOM: Yeah. He seemed awful interested in what I saw up there. And he sure had something against Miss Emma.

DELLA: I see what you mean.

TOM: There’s something odd going on up there, Del. It goes deep, and it started a long time before this. They try not to let on about it, but they’ve had it rough for quite a while.

DELLA: Just goes to show, money can’t buy happiness.

TOM: That’s for sure. And you know, on my way home from the estate the other night, I ran into Kenneth on the road, drunk and muttering about the place. I want to know what he’s up to.

DELLA: You went back to Loring’s End?

TOM: Of course I did. There’s a lot going on around that house that nobody knows, and I’ve promised Miss Alice to help her find out what.

DELLA: You’re helping little Miss Loring.

TOM: Yeah.

DELLA: To go digging around in their family things.

TOM: Yeah.

DELLA: Tom… are you certain about this?

TOM: Certain about what?

DELLA: Well, going so far out of your way for this girl.

TOM: Sure I am. She needs the help, and there’s nobody else who will.

DELLA: That’s real good of you, Tom. It’s just…

TOM: Just what?

DELLA: People like that, big fancy rich people… they don’t like it when you stick your nose into their private affairs.

TOM: I’m not afraid of that. They’ve been hiding all this for far too long. Especially from Miss Alice.

DELLA: Maybe so, Tom. But once you do them what they want, they don’t always take to making friends with regular folks like us.

TOM: Oh, go on.

DELLA: Sure, they’re glad to use you if they need it, but once they’re through they aren’t going to be having you to tea on Sunday.

TOM: Alice isn’t like that.

DELLA: Oh?

TOM: She isn’t. She’s kind, and she needs help.

DELLA: I see… are you getting sweet on her, Tom?

TOM: Della.

DELLA: Well, that’s what it sounds like. Can’t blame me for asking.

TOM: That’s… that’s not the reason.

DELLA: I have to tell you, Tom, that can’t end well. That rich family of hers… they’re not going to stand for it.

TOM: That doesn’t matter. It’s the right thing to do.

DELLA: Tom, I just worry for—

TOM: Della. That’s enough.

DELLA: All right, dear, all right. I hope you know what you’re doing.

Biweekly Theater Writing Challenge #13.8 - Tailor of Riddling Way, start of Episode 2

I thought I would post what I have of Episode 2 of The Tailor of Riddling Way. This includes a couple of sections already posted, now just in context. All of Episode 1 is present in pieces by scene, but with some effort and focus I managed to get the majority of the second part written in time for the read through. Here it is now in case you would like to read it. There will likely be at least one more scene to it, which I am currently working on and will post when I finish.

~~~
Episode 2:
House Full of Secrets
~~~

SCENE 2.1

SETTING: Loring’s End

ALICE: Thank you for coming tonight, Tom.

TOM: No trouble. How are things here?

ALICE: Much the same. I hardly know where we’re going to start.

TOM: Well… tell me what it’s like here. How things have been leading up to this.

ALICE: I… well, I hadn’t really thought about it before, but I suppose with all the… the sad things that happened, ever since it was sort of a sad place. But you’d never know if you didn’t live in the house. Grandfather didn’t want people to see us that way.

TOM: Sounds like a hard place to grow up. If you’ll pardon my saying.

ALICE: Well, I didn’t really grow up here. My mother passed when I was a girl, and I was sent away to boarding school. But that’s all right. There weren’t many other children to play with here.

TOM: Was that your grandfather’s doing too?

ALICE: Yes. He was the head of the family without my father, so he saw to my upbringing. You’ve heard of him?

TOM: I don’t think there’s anyone in town who didn’t know Reginald Loring. He was a councilman for years.

ALICE: Yes, he got into politics after the war, but he made his money shipping textiles all over the world. All through the rationing, even during the slump. People always need cloth, I suppose. My uncle Edmund runs things now, but Grandfather worked right up until he passed a few months ago. I heard Aunt Emma used to do quite a lot to help him, but... that all ended when everything else happened.

TOM: She took it all hard, didn’t she?

ALICE: I think everyone did. But Grandfather didn’t like us talking about it. So after a while, nobody mentioned it anymore.

TOM: Jesus Christ.

ALICE: We mostly did things the way Grandfather wanted them. He used to tell me what a grand thing it was to be a Loring, what a great name it was, so we all had to do our best to live up to it. And so we still do. Everyone’s barely speaking and trying to pretend like nothing’s wrong. Aunt Constance hasn’t said a word to me except to tell me we’re having petit fours for my coming out ball. I can’t believe we’re still having that stupid old party with everything that’s happened.

(Sound of footsteps as MRS. WARREN approaches.)

MRS. WARREN: Mr. Barrows? Back again?

ALICE: Yes, Mrs. Warren, I invited him.

MRS. WARREN: To the house? In the evening?

TOM: This is the earliest I could come, ma’am.

MRS. WARREN: Miss Alice, you can’t just have strange young men coming over. Begging your pardon, Tom.

ALICE: He’s helping me!

MRS. WARREN: It’s not done.

TOM: I assure you, Mrs. Warren, you don’t need to worry over me.

ALICE: How could you think such a thing?

MRS. WARREN: It’s not what I think, miss! What will your aunt and uncle say?

EDMUND: Oh, for God’s sake! Mrs. Warren!

MRS. WARREN: Oh, my…

EDMUND: Mrs. Warren, where the devil are my reading glasses?

MRS. WARREN: I’ll go and fetch them.

EDMUND: Now hurry, Constance! Alice? Who’s this? What are you doing here with my niece?

ALICE: Uncle! This is Mr. Barrows, don’t you remember?

TOM: Ah, I’m here about the ball gowns, sir.

EDMUND: Ball gowns? I beg your pardon?

TOM: I understand Miss Loring here will be having her coming out party soon?

EDMUND: Yes, I believe so.

TOM: Miss Emma engaged me. Before she passed. To make party dress for the ladies of this house. Miss Alice, Mrs. Danbury…

EDMUND: Hmm. I see. For the coming out party, of course.

CONSTANCE: Edmund?

EDMUND: What is it, dear?

CONSTANCE: I hear someone.

EDMUND: It’s just the dressmaker Emma hired.

CONSTANCE: No! Not that. In the guest bedroom. Or the study.

EDMUND: Constance, there’s no one in there.

CONSTANCE: I heard something.

EDMUND: (Sigh) Well, you will have to consult with my wife another time, she is indisposed at the moment.

(Soft rustling.)

CONSTANCE: What was that?

EDMUND: What was what?

(Soft rustling.)

CONSTANCE: Don’t you hear that?

EDMUND: I don’t hear anything, Constance.

ALICE: I’m afraid I don’t either.

EDMUND: Try and calm yourself, dear.

(Soft rattling.)

CONSTANCE: There it is again!

EDMUND: I swear, Constance, what is the trouble with—

MRS. WARREN: Mr. Danbury!

EDMUND: Mrs. Warren?

(MRS. WARREN hurries in, breathless.)

MRS. WARREN: Mr. Danbury, there’s a strange man in the house!

CONSTANCE: Oh, God!

EDMUND: Call for the watchmen!

(Sound of a lock being rattled and forced. Sound of a chair crashing to the floor as it is knocked over.)

CONSTANCE: (Screams)

TOM: Where is he?

MRS. WARREN: In the study!

(TOM runs over.)

TOM: Stop right there! Stop!

(Sound of the lock breaking. The man cries out in shock. He knocks over more furniture, then throws open the window and climbs out of it.)

ALICE: Tom! Be careful, Tom!

(TOM follows him out of the window, lands on the ground and runs after the burglar. The man’s breath comes heavily. He clambers up the wrought iron gate with Tom on his heels.)

TOM: Stop! Come back here!

(TOM grabs onto him, but the man kicks him. TOM stumbles back down onto the ground and the man gets over the fence, jumps down the ground, and stumbles away.)

TOM: No, no!

CRIER: Stop, thief!

(TOM gasps as CRIER knocks him to the ground with a thump.)

TOM: Officer Crier!?

CRIER: You again!

TOM: Get off me, you ass! You missed him, he’s already gone!

CRIER: I would have nabbed him if you hadn’t gotten in my way! What are you doing here, Barrows?

TOM: I had come to by to speak to Alice! I heard the burglar and went after him, same as you!

CRIER: Well, fat lot of good that did.

TOM: What about you, where did you come from?

CRIER: I was examining the perimeter of the property for anything out of the ordinary!

TOM: Well, seems you did a bang-up job, you missed the man breaking into the house!

CRIER: You shut your mouth, boy!

TOM: Boy yourself! Wait a minute— what are you still looking for? I thought you fellows decided Miss Emma did herself in.

CRIER: That’s what a lot of the boys are thinking.

TOM: Don’t you?

CRIER: Well… I’m not so sure we’ve got the whole story.

TOM: That so? Do you think there might have been some passers-by you didn’t harangue that day?

CRIER: Hear me out a minute! Sure, it could have been an accident. Wouldn’t be the first lady to overdo it with the tincture if the pain won’t go.

TOM: I suppose so.

CRIER: But an educated woman like Miss Loring… she’d likely know what she was on about, right? And nobody can think of any reason why she’d need a dose like that. So I don’t believe it was something she would have done to herself by accident or on purpose.

TOM: I see.

CRIER: Now a lot of the boys think she might have been down enough to do it. That family sure wouldn’t care to think so, but I could believe it. She didn’t go out in society so much lately, she’d pulled away from the family business...

TOM: And they sure had their fair share of hard times.

CRIER: Sure they did. But here’s the trouble— why now? After all that, what could have pushed her to it now?

TOM: Well. Her old man finally went a few months ago. Could have been the last straw.

CRIER: Could have been. I wouldn’t expect so, he was about seventy and that was nothing unexpected. But I suppose I can’t stab at how a maiden aunt might see it.

TOM: Then what? You think somebody killed her?

CRIER: Might be I do.

TOM: What makes you so sure?

CRIER: Just this— for a distraught lady who was half a shut-in, it seems she was awful busy.

TOM: Busy with what?

CRIER: You aren’t the only one saying Miss Loring was going about some odd business just before she died.

TOM: Yeah?

CRIER: Yeah. She was seen more in town in the weeks before she died than she had been in years. She was gathering up old papers nobody had looked at in years. She was up to something, damn it. That’s not a woman with no reason to go on.

TOM: No, I wouldn’t think so.

CRIER: So you see what I mean?

TOM: I think I do.

CRIER: Now I could very well be on a lot of nonsense here, but I have to say, if now there are strange men breaking in to have a poke around the house, well… I think there has to be something more going on, wouldn’t you say?

TOM: I think you might be on to something, Crier.

CRIER: Well. It’s just a notion of mine. But I’m looking into it all the same. I mean to find out just what she was doing in town, see what that might tell me.

TOM: That’s decent of you. To go to the trouble.

CRIER: Just doing my job. Tell me something, Barrows— what’s got you so tied up in this? Beg your pardon for saying, but doesn’t seem like you’d be their kind of people.

TOM: Miss Alice isn’t like that.

CRIER: Hm. That’d make her a rare sort of girl.

TOM: I want to help that girl. And I think Miss Emma came to me because I’m tangled up in this somehow too. I mean to find out how.

CRIER: I hear you. Still. This is police business, understand? Try not to get in the way.

TOM: I’ll do my best.

CRIER: Right then. Well. I suppose I have statements to collect from the members of the household. Carry on, Barrows.

TOM: Carry on, Crier.

SCENE 2.2

SETTING: Loring’s End

TOM: Alice? Where are you?

ALICE: In the study. I’m helping Mrs. Warren straighten up. Are you all right?

TOM: Well, that was a bust.

ALICE: What happened? Who was that?

TOM: I didn’t get a good look at him. He shook off me and Officer Crier both.

MRS. WARREN: That was very brave of you, Tom.

TOM: Thank you. For all the good it did.

MRS. WARREN: Well, you chased him off at least. Who knows what he might have done if you hadn’t?

TOM: What was he doing here?

MRS. WARREN: He just tore everything apart! I don’t think anything was stolen…

ALICE: Look at this. First Aunt Emma, then strange men start breaking into the house. How can anyone think there’s nothing going on here?

TOM: For what it’s worth, it seems Officer Crier agrees with you. He thinks Emma was up to something.

ALICE: He does? Perhaps he’s cleverer than he seems. Nobody else will see it.

TOM: There has to be a way to find what happened here. Surely someone knows.

ALICE: How? This house has always been full of secrets.

MRS. WARREN: Oh, Miss Alice.

ALICE: You know! You’ve been with our family for years now.

MRS. WARREN: Yes. But I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.

ALICE: But you’ve seen it! God knows what’s happened here that no one’s ever talked about.

MRS. WARREN: That’s no business of mine.

ALICE: There has to be something. It could be why Emma died. You’ve been here, surely you remember!

MRS. WARREN: Oh, I don’t know, Miss Alice.

ALICE: Please, Mrs. Warren… I just… please…

TOM: Alice, leave her be.

ALICE: Tom!

TOM: She doesn’t want to speak ill of anyone.

MRS. WARREN: No, sir. Least of all of any Loring. You’ve been very good to me.

TOM: It’s very good you, Mrs. Warren. Susan Warren, isn’t it?

MRS. WARREN: Yes, it is.

TOM: Are you by any chance a relation of Robbie Warren over on Deer Hill?

MRS. WARREN: Why, yes! He’s my nephew. Do you know him?

TOM: Him and my big brother used to be thick as thieves.

MRS. WARREN: Your brother is Luke Barrows? He and Robbie used to steal pies off my windowsill!

TOM: They always were rascals.

MRS. WARREN: How is Luke nowadays?

TOM: Very well; after the war he decided to stay in Europe. He’s got a nice English wife and a fine fat baby boy.

MRS. WARREN: Ah, God bless him. Lots of good young men never made it through that war.

ALICE: Like my father.

MRS. WARREN: Yes, miss. A true gentleman.

ALICE: He was a great hero.

MRS. WARREN: (Hesitantly) He was indeed, miss…

TOM: Yes? What is it?

MRS. WARREN: It’s just… everyone thought so well of Master Rowan, doing his duty by the country and all.

TOM: Of course. The family must have been proud of him.

MRS. WARREN: That’s just it. That’s what they said to everyone… but when he was shipping out, Mister Reginald didn’t want to let him go.

TOM: I suppose it’s natural for a man to be afraid for his son going off to war.

MRS. WARREN: Yes, but it wasn’t just like that.

ALICE: How do you know?

MRS. WARREN: Because… I heard them one night. It must have been the night that Master Rowan told his father he was enlisting. I was clearing the table after dinner. They were in Mr. Loring’s study, but I could hear them shouting, and soon they were moving through the house.

(Flashback effect.)

REGINALD: You will not, sir! I forbid it!

ROWAN: I am a grown man, Father, you can forbid me nothing. Besides, it’s already done. I am an enlisted man. I ship out for France by the end of the month.

REGINALD: Have you lost your mind?

ROWAN: Have you lost yours? Do you know what it is you’ve done? You have made a deal with the devil!

REGINALD: You are being a naïve fool, Rowan. This is for the best interests of the family. Would you see us in ruins?

ROWAN: Some things are worth more than that, Father.

REGINALD: So you’ll throw your life away in some godforsaken trench, for what? For principle? To teach me a Sunday school lesson?

ROWAN: Someone must do the right thing. If it will not be you, then it will be me.

REGINALD: This is madness! You are not some unoccupied gutter trash, you have responsibilities here!

ROWAN: I will have none of any obligations to you.

REGINALD: You have a child on the way!

ROWAN: I will not have that child growing up ashamed of the family it came from! There will be one Loring man that will not disgrace the name.

REGINALD: Come off this nonsense. You have no idea what you’re talking about. Everything is well in hand.

ROWAN: Don’t be so certain. You’ll have to make good on your devil’s bargain soon enough.

REGINALD: What do you mean?

ROWAN: Just that we reap what we sow, dear Father.

REGINALD: If you think for a moment that you are going to—

ROWAN: And when that time comes, I will not be paying along with you. Oh, good evening, Mrs. Warren.

MRS. WARREN: Excuse me, sirs.

ROWAN: Not at all, Mrs. Warren. If you would be so good, I’ll be needing my train cases cleaned. I shall soon have some packing to do.

MRS. WARREN: Of course, Master Rowan.

ROWAN: Many thanks, madam. And now— goodnight, Father.

REGINALD: This is not over, boy—

ROWAN: I said, goodnight.

(Flashback effect.)

TOM: And that’s all you heard?

MRS. WARREN: That’s all, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

ALICE: But… what had Grandfather done?

MRS. WARREN: I don’t know that he did anything.

ALICE: It must have been something, if Father was so upset with him!

MRS. WARREN: They could have just disagreed on something.

ALICE: No one calls a disagreement a deal with the devil! It must have been terrible.

MRS. WARREN: It’s not for me to pass judgment on any Loring. And I never heard them speak of it again. Oh, heavens. They were both good men, Miss Alice, and smart too. I’m sure whatever they were at odds about, they both had very good reasons for it.

(Pause.)

MRS. WARREN: I’m sorry. I’ve said things out of turn.

ALICE: Not at all, Mrs. Warren.

MRS. WARREN: Well. I should go back to putting this room in order.

ALICE: That’s all right. I’ll finish up here.

MRS. WARREN: Are you certain, miss?

ALICE: It’s no trouble.

MRS. WARREN: All right. I guess I’ll be off, then.

ALICE: Thank you.

MRS. WARREN: For what?

ALICE: For talking to me.

SCENE 2.3

SETTING: Loring’s End

(Sound of a drawer sliding back into its slot and a chair being clicked back into place.)

ALICE: Well, I suppose that’s taken care of.

TOM: But why did this happen? If nothing was stolen, he probably wasn’t here to rob the place.

(Pause.)

TOM: Are you all right?

ALICE: I can’t stop thinking about Father and Grandfather.

TOM: You don’t have any idea what that was about?

ALICE: No. No one was ever supposed to see any strife within the family. And you know, they must have fought just before all the trouble started!

TOM: You think they had something to do with one another?

ALICE: I… I don’t know. It’s just that with everything else... I don’t know what to think.

TOM: We’ve got to figure out what Emma was doing. Then we’ll have something to go on, at least.

ALICE: How can we do that?

TOM: I… wait a minute. Officer Crier said something else to me just now…

ALICE: What?

TOM: Something about Emma… gathering up old papers. He mentioned that it made him think she was up to something.

ALICE: Old papers? All her papers were kept in this study.

TOM: Have you found any yet?

ALICE: Nothing out of the ordinary… oh, Tom. Look at the roll top. The lock’s been sprung.

TOM: The burglar must have been trying to break it open.

ALICE: Aunt Emma always kept this locked, it was where she did her work. Will it open?

TOM: Let me try it.

(Rattling of forcing the roll top open.)

TOM: (Sound of exertion.) There! Alice… look at this.

ALICE: What are these? Newspaper clippings, letters, envelopes…

(Rustling of paper.)

TOM: She’s got them all laid out…

ALICE: Oh, Tom. These are all about Bethany. Look! About the night of her death… about the investigation after…

TOM: This was what Emma was up to. This must have been why the burglar broke in, to find these things!

ALICE: My God, it must have been!

TOM: Look at all this. This one here, with the hole cut in it… this must where the picture of her in the gown came from.

ALICE: And look what’s written here. This is my aunt’s writing.

EMMA: Never met with K all night…

ALICE: They’re notes.

EMMA: Last saw her at the bonfire, around nine-forty-five…

TOM: What do they mean?

EMMA: Who could have been there with her?

ALICE: I don’t know. Oh, what else is here?

(Opening of paper folders.)

ALICE: These are just a lot of old business papers of my Grandfather’s.

TOM: That seal’s freshly broken. They must not have been touched in years.

(Opening of paper folders.)

TOM: This one came by messenger from the police station. It’s the police report from the night Bethany died! Alice, do you see what all this is?

ALICE: She was looking into Bethany’s death.

TOM: There’s not much here… the party had already gone into the night when she disappeared. They looked for her for an hour, until some of the guests found her lying in the garden. Her neck was broken.

ALICE: Oh, God.

TOM: They spoke to all the guests but nobody knew how she got there. It looked like she fell and hit her head, but they never figured out what really happened. Emma wrote in the margins here too.

EMMA: Someone did this.

ALICE: She thinks Bethany was murdered.

TOM: There’s something else. What’s that folded up there?

(Unfolding of old paper.)

ALICE: It’s a letter. To Aunt Emma from my father!

TOM: What does it say?

ROWAN: May 15th, 1917. To my dear sister Emma. In this, the last letter I may write before I ship out to meet my fortune in the war, a brother ought to send a fond and affectionate farewell to his closest and most stalwart sister. But I fear I must instead speak to you of matters that we must deal with. It concerns, as so many things do now, our father’s current course. I told him he would have to pay the piper he’s been dancing to, but even I didn’t dream it would happen like this. He meant to keep it secret until the deed was done, but I trust him with nothing anymore, so with some careful digging I have unearthed it. The payment he offers is Bethany, to sell her to that wretched man like a cow at market. He intends to marry her off and see her shipped halfway across the world whether she will or no to protect his vile scheme. His own daughter, and a child at that. Emma, we cannot let him see this through. Something must be done, but I shall be leaving for the front too soon to handle this alone… which is why I must write to you, dear sister. It tears me that I can do nothing for Bethany myself, but I discovered this too late; I am due at my assignment within the week, and I must be there to meet the ship. Therefore it is you that must act where I cannot. Poor Constance is too starved for Father’s approval to defy him in anything, and dear Bethany is bright and brave but still too much a child to escape this on her own. There is no one else, Emma. You must get her away somehow, out of Father’s grasp, and safe from the man he wants to sell her to. I cannot say I approve of the man that Bethany prefers instead, but we cannot allow her to be married off against her will. I wish to God I had time to make some arrangement or plan, but I fear all I have to give is this warning. Forgive me, dear Emma, that I lay this burden on you and can be of no more help to you than that. Forewarned is forearmed, they say, so I hope I’ve given you that small advantage at least. But please, for our sweet little sister’s sake, do what you can to spare her being spent like coin to pay our father’s debt. I know I can trust you with this above any other, as I would trust you with my own daughter. Farewell, and Godspeed to you both. Signed, your loving brother, Rowan.

TOM: My God.

ALICE: That settles it. Grandfather was doing something terrible.

TOM: Emma knew about it too.

ALICE: And it did have something to do with Bethany! He was marrying her to somebody awful…. They all said he was a good man. But Papa hated him.

(Pause.)

ALICE: How long has she been doing this?

TOM: Crier said she started gathering these up in the last few months. The police report is postmarked two weeks ago. And those business documents she must have had to take out of storage.

ALICE: But I don’t understand. Why now, after all this time? What happened to make Emma look back at all this after seventeen years?

TOM: Alice…

ALICE: What?

TOM: She was waiting. She had to.

ALICE: Waiting? Why?

TOM: She had to wait until your grandfather died.

ALICE: Oh, my God. Tom… what happened that night?

(Flashback effect.)

(Sounds of a party going softly in the background. Sound of high heels clicking on gravel.)

BETHANY: Hello?

(Pause.)

BETHANY: It’s me. It’s Bethany! Who’s there?

(Someone else, indistinctly.)

BETHANY: Oh, no. Please, you don’t understand, just let me go!

(Someone else, indistinctly. Cracking sound.)

BETHANY: (Gasps in pain.) Oh, God, no. Please, God, no!

(BETHANY’s heels clatter on the walkway. She falls back with a thump, followed by the crunch of her neck as the back of her skull hits the ground.)

SCENE 2.4

SETTING: Road into town

(Sound of crickets and night birds. Footsteps as TOM walks along the path on his way home.)

KENNETH: You’re out late, aren’t you?

TOM: Hello? Who’s there?

KENNETH: I remember you. You’re that tailor fellow.

(Sound of KENNETH taking a drink.)

TOM: Who is that?

KENNETH: Nobody. Just me.

TOM: Kenneth? From Della’s pub?

KENNETH: Ah, good memory on you. So where you headed?

TOM: Just on my way home.

KENNETH: I thought only reprobates like myself were out at this hour. What brings you out of your cozy little place?

TOM: Had to pay a visit to a friend.

KENNETH: Ah, sounds nice. Good thing to have somebody to keep you from drinking alone.

(Sound of KENNETH taking a drink.)

TOM: Maybe you should ease up on that.

KENNETH: It steadies the nerves. Never know what might be out there in the dark. Not too many nice fellows like you. Don’t know what would take you out of town— why, you were up the Lorings’ way, weren’t you?

TOM: What business is that of yours?

KENNETH: If you had any sense, you’d get yourself well away and not wrap yourself up in any of their trouble.

TOM: What do you know about that?

KENNETH: What does anybody know about what goes on up there? Hidden away in their big house where they all behave just right.

TOM: I beg your pardon?

KENNETH: What are they going to do with you anyway? Ahhhhh, it’s that girl, isn’t it? Pretty little thing.

TOM: I’m just trying to help.

KENNETH: Ah, yeah. Pretty little things from up there can use all the help they can get.

TOM: Do you… do you know something?

KENNETH: Just that you’re going to regret digging yourself into that mess.

TOM: But what do you—

(Sound of crash as KENNETH smashes his bottle on the ground.)

KENNETH: So stay safe, little tailor.

(Sound of KENNETH walking unsteadily off.)

Keep on going

Made it through my company retreat. It was pretty long and intense, but I made it through. I even handled the three-hour drive home through the rain and the fog without careening to my death. With my night vision being what it is, that was a stressful experience. But it's done now, and I think I discharged my duties to the satisfaction of my superiors. So that's one thing down. Only about a million to go.

This week I want to finish my costume for Venezia. I bought a couple of curtains at the thrift store that I want to repurpose into my costume for Dominican friar Girolamo Savanorola. They've both got the same muted diamond-pattern texture on them, but one is gold and one is dark red. I think I will probably use the gold for this project; it's closer to the brown that one would expect from a monk, but still fancy enough for a masquerade ball.

 

As I've mentioned, I want something monastic-looking, but don't really want to swath myself in a great big robe. In order to make myself look more active and imposing, I want something that evokes that look while not being as confining. I'm imagining a long vest sort of shape, belted at the waist, with a hood. I think I can handle making something like that. And if I can't, well, I guess I can always just do this.

I'm concerned for your soul, you see.

It'll be good to do some sewing again, some work with my hands, after spending the last few weeks frying my brain with mental labor.

Travel, Tailor, and tired, so very very tired

Gah, what an intense week. Started my school assignments, had a ton of stuff to do at work, and launched my audio drama project. I have been writing or otherwise working almost constantly since Monday, and the last few days have been especially busy. My brain feels like it's overloaded the circuit and blown a fuse. But it's not done yet. Today I have to drive to the Berkshires for a two-day company retreat for work. I'm not a huge fan of driving and I don't ski, so I'm not terribly excited, but it won't be so bad. I'm packing up now, and am just thankful that the snow quit before today.

Friday we had the read through of the first two episodes of The Tailor of Riddling Way. Most of the cast was able to attend, and we had a nice dinner together before going through the script. I am actually pretty pleased with what I put together. Hearing the whole thing read showed me the weak spots, too, the places that require tweaking and change.

Bernie and I also made our first shot at recording on Saturday. I hadn't originally planned on jumping in immediately, without time to do any planning, but Caitlin is going away to her acting program in Connecticut for the semester. I really, really wanted to use her because she's so talented, so we had to fit her in before she left. She was incredibly patient with our experimenting; our whole team was, in fact. Niel Marsh, the gentleman who plays Porek in Second Shift and the man in charge of audio for Mask of Inanna, kindly dropped by to give us some advice on how to proceed. I was especially glad to have Bernie helping. His technical background allowed him to understand what Niel was talking about, which was incredibly helpful. I don't know how I'd be managing this without him. Niel also brought with him, so she could act off of Caitlin in a scene they had together. I've never gotten the chance to work with Rigel before, and I was very pleased. I think she suits the character very well, and understands the personality really well. rounded out our little team, filling in for the one actor we didn't have present. Everyone was so great, and not only did we learn a lot from the session, I think we got some good material recorded as well. I'm happy to say I think our little experiment is off to a good start.

Costume noodling for HMS Eden

I hit the thrift store in Waltham for the first time in a couple of months-- which for me is kind of a long time --in hopes of finding something for my upcoming larp roles. Well, that store is magic if you don't overuse it, and if so will deliver exactly what you want. Though initially I thought I might go in the more "adventuress" direction, I found this lovely dress that I think I can make work for playing for Irene Adler in HMS Eden.

The dress is brown with a black mesh overlay, and it has a kind of corsety look to the bodice which made think it might be made to look Victorian. Here's a weirdly-lit closeup on it, with the little flower motif in the overlay.

And here's an awkwardly-framed picture of the dress's fabulous back, which is laced. I love, love, love laces.

The question now is how to make it more Victorian-looking. The answer is probably that it needs sleeves. So I got out this floppy, gauzy black blouse with the frilly collar and cuffs that was one of the best costuming purchases I ever made, given how often I use it to make my outfits more period. I put it on under the dress unbuttoned but arranged so that the front ruffle made a kind of jabot down the bodice.

I think that helps. Sadly it will probably cover up the lovely laces, but it's probably not Victorian to have a bare back. I tried wearing that bustle that I got at the Brandeis theater department costume sale underneath it, but it looked like a bulgy mess under the slim silhouette of this dress, so I guess it will have to stray straight-skirted. I kind of wish I had a big elaborate black hat, the kind with the wide brim and the gathered satin decoration on top. Wonder if I could get one of those without spending a ton on it. Any suggestions to dress it up further are of course welcome.

The pros and cons of regimenting my time

I am very much a creature of habit. I fall very easily into patterns and follow them like I'm on rails. Sometimes this can be a very good thing for me. When I was in undergrad, getting up at 7:45AM every day to get to the gym by 8 to work out for exactly thirty minutes, take a ten-minute shower, then dress and get to class by 9, I did it every damn day but Sunday. It was my routine, my pattern, and once I was in the groove I followed it determinedly. I get chores done on a regular basis because I keep the same schedule for them week after week. When it works, it works for me. Unfortunately, tough as it is to knock me out of a habit, once I'm out, I am out. A new habit is formed of living absent the old behavior and that becomes equally difficult to break.

Sometimes I think I need to put myself on schedules for more things. I have never really had a bedtime routine, for example. I am familiar from television that apparently normal people wash their faces and brush their teeth and suchlike before they go to sleep, but I frankly crash so hard when I get tired I pretty much just collapse, especially lately. Doesn't leave a ton of time to "prepare" for bed. It's a good thing I don't wear makeup or have contacts, because I'd go to bed with them still on so often that I'd spend my life as a keratitis-plagued acne-crusted pig. I sleep in my clothes on top of my still-made bed probably more often than anyone that doesn't have alcoholic blackouts.

Now that I've convinced you that I'm a slovenly piggy who can't handle basic tasks of self-care, I bring this up because I wonder if forcing myself into a greater level of routine would help me do more of the things I want to get done. Not just stuff like taking better care of my skin, but going back to regular workouts, blocking off time to write, to sew, to practice ballet. Because I know that getting into habits enables me to do those things. There are so many things I want to do, and I feel like so often I waste the time I have to do them because my time is not regimented well enough. I hate that feeling of having enough time to do the things that feel enriching but not using it.

The flipside of that is that I'm a bit afraid of locking myself into too many routines. I know how much I come to sink into them and depend on them. I can see myself losing what spontaneity I'm already inclined, little enough as it is. Or stressing myself out even more trying to stick to it. I suppose I could try it, and if I don't feel better for having done it, I can always retreat into laziness to break the habit.



Five years

Today is my fifth year anniversary with Jared.

Thank you, best friend. <3

Biweekly Theater Writing Challenge #13.7 - Tailor of Riddling Way, scene 6

The last scene I had to complete for episode one. This one took a long time to write, to gauge the content and forward thrust. I imagine it will need some editing, but I am glad to have it done at least in first draft for now.

SCENE 6

SETTING: Estate at Loring’s End

(Sound of frantic knocking on a heavy door knocker.)

TOM: Hello? Anyone at home? Hello!

(Opening of the big door.)

MRS. WARREN: Excuse me, sir!

TOM: Mrs. Warren, is it?

MRS. WARREN: Yes. I remember you, you were that young man with Miss Alice yesterday.

TOM: That was me. My name is Tom Barrows.

MRS. WARREN: Well, what a racket you’re making! Is something the matter?

TOM: Apologies, ma’am, but I have to talk to Miss Alice. Is she in?

MRS. WARREN: Hold your horses a minute and I’ll see if she’s fit for callers. Come in and wait here in the lobby.

(Clicking of shoes on lobby floor. Before long footsteps come down the stairs.)

MRS. WARREN: Here he is, Miss Alice.

ALICE: Tom! What brings you back here so soon?

TOM: I’m sorry for barging in unannounced, but there’s something I’ve got to ask— Alice, did Miss Emma ever mention knowing a seamstress by the name of Abigail Barrows?

ALICE: Not that I ever heard. Who is she?

TOM: My mother, who taught me to sew. See, she left me journals with all of her embroidery methods in them, and they’re full of the designs she made. Look at this one, with the lilies!

ALICE: It’s lovely, but what about it?

TOM: You see, the dress your aunt asked me to make— I was supposed to make an exact copy of a gown in a picture she gave me. Take a look at it. Do you see the beadwork on the bodice?

ALICE: It’s the same design! What does that mean?

TOM: I think it means that my mother made this dress.

ALICE: My aunt asked you to make a copy of a dress your mother made? Did she realize?

TOM: She knew my name was Barrows, and I mentioned learning from my mother.

ALICE: My. Perhaps she thought you’d be the best person to recreate it.

TOM: Perhaps so.

ALICE: It’s a beautiful gown, Tom. Still… I wonder why she wanted it.

TOM: Yes. And why this one in particular? You know, she was adamant that what I made had to be identical. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now…

ALICE: I wonder what’s so special about this dress. May I see that picture again?

TOM: Here

ALICE: Hmmm. What is this? It looks like it’s from an old newspaper.

TOM: I think it is. The girl in it looks… rather like you, now that I think of it.

ALICE: Oh, my. She does look like me. And she looks… familiar too, somehow. Mrs. Warren? Do you recognize this girl?

MRS. WARREN: I certainly do. That was Miss Bethany.

ALICE: Oh, it is! This is my aunt, Tom, my father’s youngest sister. But where did this come from?

MRS. WARREN: I could never forget that gown she’s wearing. It’s from the night of her debutante ball.

TOM: Of course. That’s a gown for a special occasion. Tell me, does she live here still? Could I speak with her?

MRS. WARREN: Goodness, Mr. Barrows, don’t you know?

ALICE: Tom, Bethany’s been dead for years. She died that night.

TOM: At her ball?

MRS. WARREN: It was awful. She disappeared from her party at the end of the evening. Until they found her under the beech tree, with her head... oh, the poor dear girl.

TOM: My God. I’m so sorry. What happened to her?

ALICE: I really don’t know. It happened when I was just a baby. No one’s ever told me.

MRS. WARREN: No one really knows to tell you, miss. Even the police never figured it out.

ALICE: Well, Grandfather never liked anyone to talk about it.

MRS. WARREN: You must understand, it was a terrible time for the family, miss. First Miss Bethany… then Miss Constance taking ill and having to leave university. Miss Emma becoming so… withdrawn. And your father…

TOM: Your father?

ALICE: He went away to the Great War and never came back.

MRS. WARREN: All in just that year.

TOM: A hard year. I never knew.

ALICE: No one does.

MRS. WARREN: Oh, miss. It was also the year your grandfather was elected to the city council, and he built the theater in Master Reginald’s memory.

ALICE: That’s all that most people in this town remember. That’s certainly all Grandfather ever liked to talk about.

MRS. WARREN: The family was very happy for a very long time. I can’t say I blame Mr. Loring for wanting to think about that, rather than dwell on all that sadness.

ALICE: I suppose.

CONSTANCE: (From just outside the room) Mrs. Warren?

MRS. WARREN: Right here, Mrs. Danbury.

CONSTANCE: I’ll take my tea in the sun room now.

MRS. WARREN: Are you quite sure you wouldn’t like something to eat? You’ve had nothing since—

CONSTANCE: Just the tea, Mrs. Warren.

ALICE: Good morning, Aunt Constance. How are you feeling?

CONSTANCE: I can’t abide these police officers haunting the place.

ALICE: I know, Auntie, I’m sorry.

CONSTANCE: Can’t get a moment’s peace with them poking around everywhere. God knows what damage they’ve done already. Please, Alice, tell that gardener to keep them out of the flowerbeds.

ALICE: Gardener? Oh, please, Aunt Constance. This is Mr. Tom Barrows, the tailor Aunt Emma spoke to.

CONSTANCE: I don’t know any tailor.

ALICE: I know, I don’t think Aunt Emma told many people. I was wondering— about the funeral—

CONSTANCE: Oh, heavens, not now.

ALICE: I know it’s terrible, but—

CONSTANCE: Please, dear… don’t make me speak of it.

(Sound of CONSTANCE walking off.)

ALICE: (sighing) Forgive her, Tom.

MRS. WARREN: You mustn’t think too harshly of Mrs. Danbury. She… hasn’t been well for some time.

TOM: I understand. Think nothing of it.

MRS. WARREN: Especially the way things are now, there are just some things the poor thing can’t bear.

ALICE: The laudanum sees to that.

MRS. WARREN: Oh, Miss Alice. Well. I suppose I’d best be getting that tea made. Good to make your acquaintance, Mr. Barrows.

TOM: You as well, Mrs. Warren.

(Pause.)

ALICE: (Sighs with a sob in it.)

TOM: Alice, are you all right?

ALICE: Oh, Tom… why did my aunt want you to copy this dress?

TOM: I don’t know, miss.

ALICE: I don’t either. I don’t know why she did anything.

(Pause.)

ALICE: The police are thinking she… did it to herself.

TOM: You mean… Oh, God.

ALICE: With laudanum. She had headaches, she might have had a bad headache, and took too much. Wouldn’t surprise me, the whole family does. Or she might have done it on purpose. She might have meant to take her life.

(Pause.)

ALICE: I don’t think I knew her at all.

TOM: I… I’m sure that’s not so.

ALICE: It is! Not Aunt Emma, not Constance, not my grandfather or even my own father. They never tell me what they’re thinking. If any of my family knew I’d told you that Emma might have… We don’t talk in this house. Nobody talks.

TOM: I’m so sorry.

ALICE: I feel like I don’t know a damn thing about my own family.

(Pause.)

TOM: Then… perhaps we should find out.

ALICE: What?

TOM: We’ll do our own investigating.

ALICE: You and I?

TOM: Yes. Why not? There’s so much going on here that we can’t see, but it’s working on us on all the same. I think we should find out about it.

ALICE: Oh, Tom. I’m sure you have enough to keep you busy without taking on my troubles too.

TOM: It isn’t that, Alice. You want to know about you family— well, my mother was tangled up in this somehow too. This dress is her work, before she lost her sight. You don’t know she hurt when she couldn’t do that work anymore, and what I have left of her is that she taught me to do. There’s a piece of what she was in this, and I’d like to get that piece back.

ALICE: Where would we even start?

TOM: I don’t know. But it can’t hurt to try, can it? Otherwise, you might never know.

(Pause.)

ALICE: All right. All right.

TOM: I’m sure you have enough to worry about tonight, but we’ll meet soon and talk. Figure out what we’re about on this.

ALICE: That sounds fine, Tom.

TOM: Good. I’ll be seeing you soon then. Don’t fret, Alice. We’ll see this through.

ALICE: Yes. Yes, we will. Thank you, Tom.

TOM: Glad to be of service.

(They walk to the door. ALICE opens it and lets TOM out.)

TOM: Until then, miss.

(She closes the door behind him, then takes slow steps back in.)

ALICE: (Sighs) … “The family was very happy for a very long time.”

Tailor progress report

So it's looking like I am definitely going to need to split Tailor into multiple episodes. The story has become so large and so complex that I think breaking it down into chunks of about thirty minutes or so is the only way to present it in manageably coherent form. To that end, I think I have finished the script for the first episode, which I shall title "The Gown." It has come out fairly well, I think, and is currently under review by myself and a trusted editor or two. I feel good about it, especially since now I have a solid piece to go through at our read through a week from today. I would like to go even further, though, if for no other reason than a couple of my actors that will be in attendance next Friday only have a couple of lines in the first episode despite a larger presence in later parts of the story. I'd like them to have a little bit more to read than that.

On the note of actors, I have finally cast the piece as well. As I said, this was a surprisingly difficult process given that as my personal, unaffiliated project I could cast it however I wanted. A lot of these roles could easily be switched because of the talent of my actors, but I think this is a pretty solid cast. I'm pleased with it at least.

And so, the cast of The Tailor of Riddling Way:
TOM BARROWS, a local tailor and dressmaker - Jonathan Plesser
ALICE LORING, young heiress to the wealthy Loring estate - Gigi Geller
EMMA LORING, aunt to Alice, once involved in the family business, now a spinster withdrawn from society - Sami Genstein
CONSTANCE DANBURY, aunt to Alice, in her youth a student at university until a spate of ill health, now chronically indisposed - Steph Karol
EDMUND DANBURY, gentleman of old and powerful background, married to Constance, current proprietor of Loring Textiles - Casey Roberts
ROWAN LORING, father to Alice, popular gentleman about town, now local hero after dying in action in WWI - Jonathan Kindness
BETHANY LORING, aunt to Alice, beloved baby of the family until her still-unsolved death at her debutante ball - Carolyn Daitch
REGINALD LORING, Loring family patriarch, father to Rowan, Emma, Constance, and Bethany, captain of industry and prominent citizen - Dave Benger
SUSAN WARREN - longtime housekeeper at Loring's End, deeply devoted to the family - Charlotte Oswald
ABIGAIL BARROWS - mother to Tom, accomplished dressmaker and embroiderer who passed on her knowledge to her son - Caitlin Partridge
JOHN CRIER - young policeman investigating the murder at Loring's End - Andrew Prentice
KENNETH GARNER - local ne'er-do-well, known around town as a drunk - Jared Hite
DELLA CARRUTHERS - proprietor of a popular local working-class pub, friend to Tom - Jenn Giorno

At least, that's the characters I know already exist. I may add more as the script is written out. At the moment, I actually have one more part that I hadn't originally planned on including and now need an actor for. The role is male, and though I know a number of talented male actors I could ask, the one complication is that the actor must be able to put on a slight-- slight, mind you, NOT strong --German accent. I'll have to ask around about that. If anyone knows anyone, let me know, and of course if you fit that description feel free to volunteer.



Biweekly Theater Writing Challenge #13.6 - Tailor of Riddling Way, scene 7

I really like how this scene came out. I wanted to include a flashback to show what the family was like in public before all the trouble started, and I wanted that scene to hint at what might be brewing beneath the surface without being too obvious about it. Also, it enabled me to get a lot of exposition about the way the family was fairly smoothly. It's particularly important to the character of Reginald, to establish what sort of man he is and what effect it had on his children. I think this came out pretty well.

SCENE 7

SETTING: Estate at Loring’s End, 1917

(Sound of mingling people at a party. They are hushed by a fork tapping against a glass.)

REGINALD: If I may speak for a moment… I’d like to thank you all for coming today, and I hope you’ll all join me in wishing my daughter Constance a very happy eighteenth birthday.

CROWD: Here, here!

(Sound of applause.)

REGINALD: I also have an important announcement to make. Rowan has stepped up to protect the country by enlisting in the United States army. Within the next month he’ll be shipping off for Europe to give the Gerries what for!

(More cheering and applause.)

ROWAN: Please, Father. It’s no more than my duty.

REGINALD: What a fine young man you are, my boy.

BETHANY: We’re proud of you, Rowan.

REGINALD: Very proud. It is a fortunate man indeed who is blessed with such fine children as I have. Now, everyone, please enjoy the festivities and we’ll see Rowan off right.

(Applause and tapping of glasses.)

DONNER: This is quite a party you’ve thrown, Mr. Loring.

REGINALD: Ah, Mr. Donner, so glad to see you could come!

DONNER: The pleasure is mine.

REGINALD: It’s high time we began meeting on a social level.

DONNER: Indeed. You have lovely daughters, sir.

REGINALD: Thank you very much, I do indeed. I must introduce you to my family. Of course this is the lady of the hour.

CONSTANCE: Good evening, sir. I’m Constance. Thank you so much for being here.

REGINALD: Constance is a student at university; Barnard, you know, a very fine school for women. Constance, tell us how your studies are going.

CONSTANCE: Well, I’ve begun some very interesting translations of Aristophanes…

REGINALD: Wonderful, that’s wonderful. And you’ve been meeting interesting people, I trust?

CONSTANCE: Yes, Father.

REGINALD: Good, good. Your classmates there are from important families, must be certain you’re meeting the right people. And this is my eldest girl, Emma. I believe you’ve corresponded over business matters?

EMMA: Yes, I recognize your name, sir.

REGINALD: Mr. Donner, this young lady has made herself indispensible to the running of the business.

EMMA: I am glad to finally make your acquaintance. I do try to make myself useful.

REGINALD: She makes my appointments, keeps my books, takes care of every little detail I must remember… she has quite a head for the business.

DONNER: That’s very remarkable.

REGINALD: I don’t know how I’d get anything done without her. Of course, it’s all just until my son takes the burden off my shoulders. Mr. Donner, my oldest boy— Rowan, come meet this gentleman, son.

ROWAN: Forgive me, sir, but I find myself otherwise obligated at the moment! I do hope you enjoy the party.

REGINALD: Ha, ha, you are too popular, my boy. But there are worse troubles to have!

DONNER: And who is this enchanting creature?

REGINALD: Ah, this is my baby, our little miracle… my Bethany. You know, the girl is mad for horses. Mr. Donner, you have an interest in horseflesh, if I recall?

DONNER: Yes, I’m quite an avid rider.

REGINALD: Bethany, darling, how is that bay colt coming along?

BETHANY: He’s doing well, Papa. He goes beautifully with a good rider.

REGINALD: How splendid! Say, Donner, would you care to give him a go?

DONNER: Why, I’d love to.

REGINALD: Then, Bethany, you must take Mr. Donner on a ride. Boy! Boy, come here a moment.

KENNETH: Yes, sir.

REGINALD: Go and saddle Bethany’s pony and the bay colt for the gentleman.

KENNETH: The pony’s come up lame, sir.

REGINALD: Lame? What have you done to the poor creature, Beth? No matter, find her something else. Donner, my friend, perhaps you can teach the girl a thing or two about how to handle a horse.

DONNER: I’m sure she knows her own way.

REGINALD: All my girls do! Ah, I am a lucky man indeed, to have such a family. Now, off to the stables with you two. Best get that ride in before we lose the light!

DONNER: If you’ll just lead the way, Miss Bethany.

REGINALD: Enjoy yourselves! Ah, what a party, what an evening. Constance! Constance, it’s so good to have a reason to get everyone together again. Happy birthday, my dear.

CONSTANCE: Thank you, Papa.

First larp castings of 2012

Recently got my castings for two larps that are coming up in the near and nearish future. Still waiting on character sheets, but I at least know who I am. The first was for the test run of Venezia, which will be on January 28th, and the second for An Evening Aboard the HMS Eden, a steampunk literary pastiche at Intercon.

I confess I was a bit disappointed at first with my Venezia casting. In a game basically designed for high-class intrigue as pretty pretty princesses in Renaissance frockery, I will be playing Girolamo Savonarola, a Dominican friar who was a lifelong enemy of Rodrigo Borgia, the detestable Pope Alexander VI. Cross cast as a monk among noble ladies, ah, well. But after the initial reaction I decided this could be a lot of fun. I certainly have the ability to work myself up into a froth of righteous Catholic rage, and I sure as heck don't get much of a chance to really plunge into that sort of mindset. My faith expresses itself usually in a very private, internal way, so it might be cathartic to blow it into the most intense proportions possible. I've got some vague ideas for a costume, too; I don't want to lurch around in a big sacklike robe, so I'm envisioning a long vest sort of thing, belted at the waist, with a hood that I can stare creepily at people from within its shadows. I think I could handle making such a thing, once I have the time.

For HMS Eden, apparently in a game where everyone requested to be Irene Adler, I actually got cast as her. As a huge Sherlock Holmes fan, I like the Irene Adler character a lot-- especially how Doyle actually portrayed her, rather than countless corruptions by other interpreters --so this should be a lot of fun. I have no idea what to wear as her. I would love to do myself up like the classic steampunk adventuress, if I can find the right pieces. Hmm, maybe I should model my look on what Charlotte wore as the Duchess in Othello; that was a pretty slick look, one of my favorites of all the cool costumes in that play. Again, once I finish my more immediate projects, costuming will be the next thing I focus on.