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home is a place. a people. a memory. a home with open doors to those who need them, 1471 Thomas Sloane Avenue, better known as Laurie's House, is, has been, will be a place of becoming. but it is too late. 1471 Thomas Sloane Avenue, Laurie's House, is gone.
// Laurie's House is a TTRPG Actual Play, produced by tendervicious studios. Using The Home We Remember as its system, Laurie's House tells a tale of memory, identity, and community.
Hamnah: Welcome and thank you for listening to Laurie’s House! Laurie’s House is a Home We Remember Actual Play produced by tendervicious studios, a multimedia production studio that creates experimental shows with intent. We aim to challenge and redefine what is possible across mediums. Laurie’s House features Cai Kagawa as the Architect; Gwendolyn Kelly, Hamnah Shahid, and Amir or Nada Alami as the players; Sea Thomas as the dramaturg; Jordon Moses as the podcast editor; and Lexi McQueen as the theme composer.
Hamnah: This episode of Laurie’s House would not be possible without our sponsors, Frivolous Bear Studios and Blackbird Revolt.
Frivolous Bear Studios is a new gaming studio focusing on tabletop roleplaying games that tell untold stories and uplift marginalized voices. The studio is currently accepting pitches for tabletop roleplaying games and other gaming experiences, as well as interest from artists, editors, and designers. Go to FrivolousBearStudios.com to submit your pitch or to express interest for creative work!
Blackbird Revolt is an abolitionist design studio creating designs that shift culture and build power. Through design, they aim to inspire people to engage in activism and movement work. Check out BlackbirdRevolt.com to hire them for graphic design and video production, and to buy their art!
Thank you so much to Frivolous Bear Studios and Blackbird Revolt for supporting our show. We hope you’ll join us in giving love back to our sponsors, so we can all continue to make weird, experimental art. Without further ado, let’s walk together into Laurie’s House.
Hamnah: Content warnings for this episode of Laurie’s House include descriptions of food, blizzards, references to cigarettes and smoking, snakes, flirting, fire and burning. Please take care of yourself while listening and thank you for Going There with us.
Episode 3, WHAT IS OLD IS STILL OLD.
Amir/Nada: Take a step forward. Walk into a different room. A different building. A different part of town. Look around you. Where are you? When are you?
Memories are not perfect snapshots of places, people, emotions, experiences. They are paintings, recreated every time we step foot into the past. The act of remembering is a rewriting of our personal histories coloured by the moment we’re in, by who we are right now.
Memories are held in places. In rooms. In buildings. In parts of town important to us. Time is a place you find. When you find it, you remember. You rewrite. You erase. You relive.
What story will you tell about yourself? And how many times will you tell it?
Cai: Ash settles blocks away from the diner, a place that has seen many regrets, returns, and regulars. The crispy red vinyl reflects on the once white now gray ceiling, and the checkerboard linoleum floor invites a knight, a game, a choice. Choices, after all, were what led us here. What's for breakfast? Can I keep doing this? Why did you leave? The house is gone. Laurie's house. The center of the universe. The black hole in memory. Ash.
Cai: Dione, Deen, and Eira. Breakfast is almost finished, and life has to move on. What responsibilities lurk outside of the diner doors? Before the inevitable march of time catches up with each of you, what do you do to waylay, avoid, or face it? Beginning with Dione.
Gwen: The void is not something that Dione is unfamiliar with. It's something that she sits in often. It's not something that she makes known. There's no reason to do that. It's always there. Everybody knows that, don't they? Don't they? Maybe not. But...Dione stares into it. She stares at a plate, a fork, a knife. It's all the same. Whatever's there will be empty at some point. And if she's lucky, maybe she can fill that plate again. Fill that void again. But it'll always go back to being empty. And there's a comfort in knowing that that's consistent, isn't there? Isn't there? Isn't this comfortable?
Cai: We pan away from the cook who fills plates to Deen.
Amir/Nada: Deen is not comfortable. Deen is not comfortable. They have been sliding and gripping the vinyl of this place for as long as they've been seated, and all that's left on the plate is a single white bread toast that is toasted brown, so brown, almost charred, layers of brown that blend until it's almost black, burnt. And Deen's phone is off, and they know that the square in the pocket feels cold right now, but that's all they feel, and they know opening it, turning it on, will mean there are more things wrong, and it is like a square being lifted to a cube's perception of the world and realizing there's another dimension to the rectangle that they wrote their list of things to do on. There might be another layer that they haven't yet anticipated. And for the most part, they are looking out the window. It is cloudy, it's still somehow achingly blue. It hurts to look at how blue the sky is right now. So.
Cai: And people walk. They walk like the house isn't gone, like your to-do list isn't slowly being pulled into a black hole of ash. Eira.
Hamnah: There's nothing to say. There is a click of Eira's lighter. And if Eira could, they would push this diner table back as they quickly get up, stretch their arms out, look to Dione and Deen. “We have to do something about this. So that's what we're going to do.” There is no waylaying or avoiding this responsibility. It is just another responsibility that we have and we have to face it. Just like pulling people out of burning buildings, just like making sure that Deen doesn't overwork themself, just like all the other things that Eira does. So Eira stretches–their jacket, I think, just like, pulling out almost like Eira as an animal is making themselves larger in this space, bigger, threatening to the table? Unclear, but bigger than they feel. And Eira turns around to head out of the diner and to face this responsibility, head on. Because what other choice do they have?
Cai: Eira turns around and they see on the counter a toy just made of plastic of a sun-faded predator cat, right by the cash register. It's been there the whole time. Has it been there the whole time? But your bill is paid, and they're right. Time to go outside and face today, yesterday. Eira, what is outside of the door?
Hamnah: A blizzard. It is winter. There is maybe two feet of snow on the ground, and the snow is coming down hard. It's hard to see outside, but if you put your arm up in front of your face and just [trudge] on through the snow, I'm sure that you will find something. Where you're going, what you're trying to see.
Cai: With that, will you please pull for me, Eira?
Hamnah: From what deck would you like me to pull?
Cai: If you could pull from swords for me.
Hamnah: I got the eight of swords, and in my deck that is called interference.
Cai: Yeah, you did. The eight of swords. Interference. “You find yourself in a cage. What do you hold in your hands?”
Cai: Eira. As you turn to leave the diner, on the counter next to the register, there's a snow leopard just lounging there. Its paws, draped over that old, plasticky vinyl countertop, just watching you as you leave. But the door, as it swings open… It isn't the town outside, no familiar streets with mothers pushing children in strollers or cars lazily making their way in the morning. Where are you?
Hamnah: I don't know. It's my job to know. I know this town like the back of my hand. I haven't been here for very long, after all, and so I'm sure there's some people here who might have found some nook, some cranny that I haven't been able to find yet, but it's my job to know the ins and outs of this place. Why don't I recognize it?
Cai: You don't know where you are, but behind you, you hear that familiar, tinny ringing bell of the diner door, as a leopard stalks out in a place that you do not know, that you are not familiar with. You don't know because this place, it's very close to the lake in town. It's still in town, and you just find yourself not traveling this direction. You only come out this way maybe once in a while. The lake is there, but Eira, do you go to the edge of town where the lake is on your own very often?
Hamnah: No. I have no reason to. There's nothing really that ever happens over there, so, why go there? Everything that I need to worry about is over here. I mean, after all, where are the– where's there going to be a fire on a lake? Right. So. I don't, no. And Eira turns, hearing that familiar ding of the diner, and sees the diner there, but the snow leopard blocking the entrance to it. The only place that Eira could have gone to, to re-find their bearings, to find something familiar, and instead they find a large cat in their wake.
Hamnah: And so, Eira turns again, sharply, on their heels, though their large, ah, platform boots don't make any sound in the underbrush, though perhaps they should. And Eira turns and begins to run. And they begin to look all around with a sharp, observant focus, trying to find any signs of something familiar, something colorful, the roof of the house maybe–where's the house? The house is in the center of town, the house–everywhere you go you always end up at the house, so where, where is the house?
Cai: You see a long boulevard full of trees, but the trees aren't just in the center where they should be, or on the–near the sidewalks, or in the front yards. They’re in the streets. They’re where the houses should be. In fact, you look and you see both the street that the house is on, the street that you're so desperately looking for, somewhere in there there should be a beautiful three-story house that is shaped like a home. But the more you look, the more you see snow among the trees. You're looking for something familiar, aren't you? The snow is familiar. And you lose sight of that leopard as it hunches lower to the ground. And instead of casually strolling out the door, it begins to carefully, soundlessly make its way into the brush. And somehow over the crunching sound of your boots, you don't hear the soft pads of its feet in the leaves.
Hamnah: Smoke. Smoke. There's–there was smoke. The house. Eira turns and, still running, still running full tilt as fast as they can, turns up their nose and starts sniffing the air this way and that way for the smell of smoke.
Cai: What is one beautiful memory that you hold of the smell of smoke in Laurie's house, as you look for it?
Hamnah: Eira was–is sitting in the community room, in the house. It's been maybe a month, maybe two, since they've been in this town. They kind of rolled up here because somebody that they met while they were hitchhiking told them that there's this community house in the town a couple ways over that way. And if you need somewhere to go, well, that's the place to go. And Eira having, well, nowhere to go, really, thought, hell, why not? Might make a good stop–temporarily, anyway. But Eira’s been here for longer than they thought that they would be, and it's kind of, ah, in this awkward space of not knowing if they're going to leave or not. And it's maybe the middle of the afternoon, you know, like 2 p.m., around that time. And Eira is sitting in the community room alone, and Theo comes over to talk to them. The smell of smoke that Eira associates with Theo is not because Theo smokes. Theo doesn't. But it's because they are the one that gave Eira the lighter that they use. And so every cigarette that they've lit with it since is intermingled with that memory, with that feeling, with that gift that Theo gave.
Cai: You smell the very sweet scent of that beautiful vintage lighter, igniting a wick as Theo goes to light a candle in the community room. And as you look and look, you can see that familiar front door peeking between the trees. It's ahead of you. And when you turn your head, you can make out to your left, a little bit of the lemon tree in the backyard. To the right, you can swear that you see a little bit of the third floor patio, as you begin to search for these fond memories. Behind you, stalking low in the bush, you can hear it, and the brief sensation, that natural instinct of the hairs on the back of your neck, knowing that a predator is watching you, rise.
Hamnah: As Eira runs through the snow, they fumble around in their jacket pockets for that lighter. Because animals don't like fire, right? That'll keep them away. And so they fumble around, trying to find the lighter, and they can't find it. Their pockets are empty. They're never empty. Eira–Eira smokes, quite a bit, to Dione’s dismay, but–so who, where would they have left it? Maybe back at the diner, but there's no time to go back to the diner. And so Eira–the only thing that they can do is run.
Cai: You break out into a run. You're strong, you run regularly. And still you can feel, you can hear in the forest the sound of this leopard spring from the bushes behind you, and begin to run. Where do you head? The front door, the patio, the backyard, you know somewhere in here, if you keep running, you'll find the familiar door to the third story. You'll find Theo's office. You'll find the kitchen.
Hamnah: Through Theo's garden and into what should be the kitchen, but somehow ends up being that third floor bedroom, Eira's bedroom. And they run inside and they slam the door behind them as they do so, pushing their body up against it, heaving, out of breath, barring it to try and make sure that the snow leopard doesn't get inside.
Cai: You slide down the door, and Eira, I will ask you in your hand, do you hold the lighter? Or, do you go to look and see a predator in your room?
Hamnah: Eira holds the lighter in their hands. In both of their hands. Comically, like a child holding something that's much too large that they need both of their hands to hold. And they grip it tightly, like a lifeline. And they shift down to sit on the ground, with their back to this door, and as they hit the floor, they look up and they…find Theo in front of them, having lit that candle, the familiar smell of smoke and garden dirt sort of filling the air in the room. And Eira gives a very tired but genuine smile to Theo. “I haven't overstayed my welcome, I hope.”
Cai: “No, not at all. I–I thought you would have left by now, and I'm very grateful you're still here.”
Hamnah: “Truthfully, I wasn't really expecting to be here for very long. Bit of a surprise myself.”
Cai: “Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. I meant what I said.”
Hamnah: “Oh, I don't want to impose. I mean, you've already been so kind. I've been here for, what, two months now. It's quite a long time to be feeding and housing somebody. I mean, I don't even, I don't even have a job or anything. I–”
Cai: “I'm still here. Been a lot longer than two months.”
Hamnah: “I mean, you do run the house. I think that counts for something.”
Cai: “Eira, did I ever tell you about Laurie?”
Hamnah: “No.” And as Eira says no, we see instead of the tall, strong stature of Eira, we see Eira as a child, cross-legged, sitting on the ground of this room, holding the lighter in both hands–which is now much larger in proportion to their body–and they look wide-eyed like they're about to hear story time with Theo.
Cai: And Theo sits in the common room, a place of community and home, with Laurie invisibly at his side. And that is the first day that from Theo's mouth, you hear the story of Laurie. And that is the day that he decides that his lighter, his steadfast companion gifted to him by Laurie deserved a new home. And so do you.
Hamnah: “Wow, Laurie seems so... cool? Kind? You must have had so much fun together.”
Cai: “So much fun. She…She's the reason this house is what it is and why people love it so much. I just keep the lights on, tend the garden.”
Hamnah: “This house is really important to you, isn't it?”
Cai: “It's the only home that matters to me.”
Hamnah: And Eira, big eyes, shorter, still gray hair, I think is like, very clearly thinking very hard about something, the way that kids do when they've learned new information, and they get up, put the lighter in one hand and hold out another. Small. For Theo.
Cai: Theo very easily, eagerly, he is quick to take a hand, to offer an arm. And he happily places his very soft hands in yours.
Hamnah: “Well, I think that even though Laurie isn't here anymore, we can still have fun. And this house can still be everything that it was when she was.”
Cai: “And that's why you can stay as long as you'd like.”
Hamnah: “Can I help?”
Cai: “You can help.”
Hamnah: And Eira goes in to hug Theo–being extremely short in this case, I think the hug only makes it to about, like, the upper thighs. And Eira hugs Theo extremely tightly, holding that lighter still in their hand. And they, for the first time in perhaps a very long time, feel safe.
Cai: Eira. “You find yourself in a cage. What do you hold in your hands?”
Hamnah: In Eira's hands, they hold a candle. They hold something to light the way during the night, something to provide just a little bit of warmth, something to fill the room with a nice comforting scent.
Cai: And what object in the house changes?
Hamnah: All of the Polaroid pictures that line the walls of that first floor of the house, all pictures of the different people that have lived here, that have stayed here for a short amount of time, a long amount of time, even just a day, all of those change. And they don't change very much, but they all become framed, and they all become family photos. The people in the photos don't necessarily change, but the poses do. It's very clearly, like, when you go and get professional family photos taken and they put you in those very awkward poses and positions. It's that. And Theo is in every single one of the photos, no matter who else is in the picture with him.
Cai: Eira, you sit back down in the booth at the diner. It's cold. You must have gotten up for too long.
Hamnah: And Eira, as they sit back down…at the diner, they pull their jacket closer in, tight towards them. And Dione, who had been sitting one person across from them, um, they kind of pull in a little bit closer this time, as they sidle back into the booth next to her this time. And they rest their head very wearily on her own, on the top of her own.
Gwen: And the Snake slowly leaves, partially from Dione, and gently begins to coil around Eira.
Amir/Nada: Deen sees all this happen, and they, like, lean back as if, of course, they were worried about you, and the next big breath they take in– And then they hold their breath as if that was something that they swallowed, but they weren't eating. They look with, like, a narrowed eye at Eira. “Where'd you go?”
Hamnah: “Work. You okay?”
Amir/Nada: “Yeah, you know, it's. There's so many smells in here, it's, ah.” There's a…like, a freeze frame as if the cough is like, echoing from the basement, and it's echoing from the third floor. Or they were outside in the snow and even though you're not supposed to get sick from the cold, a lot of people get sick from the cold and they get these wet chest coughs, and they slam a glass of water, and put their hands on like, the bread that is so brown it's black, and fiddle with it. “I'm not sure where we go from here.”
Gwen: There is a long sigh that feels like it doesn't get it–to its full extension because it's hitting the inside of a metal helmet, as the Knight holds tightly to Eira, but bows her head in uncertainty. The serpentine eye peers up at Deen. “I don't know. I don't know what we do.”
Hamnah: “Well, for one thing, I think maybe we should get you out of here.” And Eira looks at Deen. “All the smells are clearly not great for your, for your cough, so.”
Amir/Nada: “Okay, I mean, I wish I got a heavier jacket.” They look sort of ashamed, because they came in here with a jacket they had to take off because it was so warm. And Dione is radiating cold, and Eira is radiating a warmth that they can't breathe in. And Deen is still sort of slipping on this vinyl that has kept, has kept them floating in nothing and feeling nothing. Ah. But, they put the bread down, and they get up and they grip like, just the outline of their pocket where the phone is, and extend two hands. One for Eira, one for Dione.
Hamnah: And Eira takes Deen’s hand.
Gwen: A gauntleted hand clasps yours.
Amir/Nada: And it is sturdy for how–for how weak Deen looks. It is a rock on the face of a mountain that you can pull into, if you were climbing out. And it is also a rock that has been paved and walked, and next to it there's the dirt that is paved just around the corner for the easiest path that people cut the corners to, and that is also stable. And they nudge, they motion their head towards the, like, the hostess cabinet, and they said, “I paid, we can go.”
Gwen: “Yeah. Let's…let’s go.” And the back half of the mamba erupts into the long feathers of a secretary bird.
Cai: Dione, did you finish your food?
Gwen: Dione always finishes her food. It doesn't matter how good it is.
Cai: Even the parsley garnish?
Gwen: The plate is clean.
Cai: Dione, what herb, plant, unspoken love would you like to garnish a plate with?
Gwen: The last thing to go on a plate is always a bit of a balancing act. It's a pop of color. It is the last accent to a dish. It should be complementary, but it shouldn't be necessary, but it's there anyway because you care about what you made. Especially when you can go a little overboard. Especially when, not enough, it can go unnoticed. There is the very light sound of scraping as a lemon is zested over this impromptu, not on the menu dish.
Cai: Um, as you cook this off the menu dish, Dione, will you please draw a card for me from the major arcana?
Gwen: So... I got... Death again!
Cai: Yeah, she's here, baby! So when you draw a major arcana, you're given a choice. It is a crossroads moment for your character. And Dione, there are two questions ahead of you, and the decision is yours to make, but might shift your character in some way shape or form. So the two questions are: “What part of yourself must die so that another part can live?” Or: “What part of yourself refuses to die, infecting the other parts alongside it?”
Gwen: The never-ending coils of the Dragon filling the diner twist and turn and occasionally writhe–not erratically, but slowly–and something about the energy and the diner…the Dragon's not there, anymore. There's that never-ending body that flows not only in the diner, but out of the diner, and immediately out of the restaurant that Dione works at. And she opens the door. It's–they're not open yet, but there's somebody outside. “Hey! Um.”
Cai: “Hi.”
Gwen: “Can't help but notice that, um, and I mean no offense, but, you look like you have a flight to catch later today, and you're looking for something…good, to eat.”
Cai: “What gave it away? Ah.” And this person–they're not extremely overly dressed to be just standing outside a random restaurant that's closed, but they do have comfortable traveling clothes on that are not cheap looking by any stretch of the imagination. And they have their little four wheel carry-on luggage rolling with them. And they weren't hard to see. They were standing outside of your restaurant looking up at the sign, looking at the hours, looking at everything around it. They're on their phone looking at Yelp reviews. “I would, um, love something to eat.”
Gwen: “I'll make you a deal. Open early, just for you. If you let me make you something off-menu.”
Cai: “Oh!” And they close their–they put their phone away. It's very obvious to see that they were looking at every possible way to find out if the restaurant was open, how they could contact somebody, because it is, it's an odd hour to want to eat at a restaurant that isn't a 24 hour diner. And transit in and out of this town seems to stop at a certain hour. “I would love that, actually. I promise I'll make it worth your while.”
Gwen: “That sounds like a deal. Come on in.”
Cai: And they walk through the door. And, Dione, what does it look like as you inhabit a restaurant that isn't your restaurant, that becomes your restaurant for just a moment?
Gwen: There is a… Well, to the people that know Dione, an uncharacteristic confidence, an uncharacteristic, almost cocky behavior. And, leading this individual to their seat, she says, “Just give me 10, 15 minutes. It'll be good.”
Cai: “15 minutes from shut. That's, all right.” And they wheel their bag over and just kind of tuck it away as they sit. And you see them–there's a practiced way that people who go to places like culinary schools to taste food, the way that people experience, at least what you imagine, the way people experience, like, Michelin star restaurants where they sit, they prepare themselves for a meal, because dining isn't just the process of eating. It is smelling the food. It is being in the space. And the way that this person sits is not, “Oh, finally, I'm sitting.” They look over the table. It's not a bad table. And in this moment, it is your personal chef's table in your personal kitchen. And the assessment is not just of the table.
Gwen: And as she turns to move to the kitchen, her golden eyes glint for a moment as she has an opportunity to surprise somebody. And, in that moment of having that desire to do so, she turns over to Eira on the hood of their truck. “Okay. So. Where are you when you're not saving lives, and you're not passing out from exhaustion?”
Hamnah: “Me, passing out from exhaustion?” And we see a Eira, uh, laid out, sprawled out on the hood of their truck. They are actually still wearing, like, their turnout gear that's like–ah, the pants are like, rolled down, um, and kind of tied around their waist. The jacket is up on the roof of the truck or, um–The jacket is put in the bed of the truck on the back, and their boots are hanging loosely down on the ground, they've taken them off at this point. And Eira, with their hands behind their head, kind of turn to look at you, Dione, with their gray eyes and they laugh. “That's kind of rich coming from you, chef.”
Gwen: “Hey, I didn't say the statement wasn't hypocritical.”
Hamnah: “Well, alright. I suppose as long as we're admitting to the hypocrisy. What do I do when I'm not working? Well, usually I spend time at the house, and spend time with Aspen. You know, they like to rock climb and so, sometimes they take me along with them, and, uh, Deen needs help around the house sometimes, and so I like to make sure that, you know, Deen's doing well. Just kind of around, you know? Uh, why?”
Gwen: “You just…strike me as someone who likes a little excitement.”
Hamnah: “Yeah, I mean, Deen and I will get up to some crazy shit sometimes. Like you should, you should seriously ask them about it, because some of the–some of those stories are kind of ridiculous. But what about you? I mean, you're working all the time. Do you ever have time for anything fun?”
Gwen: She chuckles. “Well, maybe if you invited me like you invite Deen and Aspen, maybe I would.”
Hamnah: “What about right now?”
Gwen: “What about right now?”
Hamnah: “Well–” And Eira pushes themself off of the hood of the truck, um, pushing themself up to sit. And we can see that it is a very clear, starry night as we are parked on some overpass, um, I think some like overlook, overlooking the rest of the town. And there is a large, ah, forest behind us, with like, a walking trail and sort of like, ah, stairs that go down. “What if we went on an adventure, right now?”
Gwen: “Yeah!”
Hamnah: Your pick.
Gwen: “My pick. You want me to pick.”
Hamnah: “Yeah, I want to make sure it's fun for you. So what do you want to do?”
Gwen: And Dione, 10 minutes later, as promised, places a trap for this restaurateur. A meal that is very clearly, at a first glance, a dinner item. It's early in the morning. It's too heavy for starting your day, even for something that could be brunch. Scallops and potatoes, that's unheard of at this time of day, and yet here it is, on the plate, and she sits across.
Cai: “Oh, this smells good.” The visitor looks over the plate. Again, with that look that ah, an art appraiser looks over [a] fine piece. Studies it. “And you said this is off the menu?”
Gwen: “Came up with it myself! Can you…can you tell?” And she lowers, ah, her gaze just a bit to the food, back up to them. And the Snake begins to move, sway, almost excitedly across her body.
Cai: This visitor, a person shaped in questions and in momentum and less in specifics. They introduce themself, ah, but, the important part is that you introduce yourself through the meal. With a very delicate hand, they lift the fork and take a bite. And you see something that up to this point, this person has not expressed. You meet the person as they try your food, truly. They open up, their eyes seem to carry their smile all the way up. Their eyebrows raise. Surprise. But just like the meal itself–complexity, wonder–there is some movement in this moment. A shooting star crosses the night sky over the both of you.
Gwen: “Something… Let's just let loose. Does that sound good? Whatever you can get a hold of, someplace with music. Yeah?”
Hamnah: “Yeah, music's your style? All right.” And Eira, like, jumps off of the hood of the truck and lands very quietly and silently, their boots on the crunchy gravel of the ground beneath, and turns quickly to face you, Dione, and puts out a hand for you to take.
Gwen: There is just a slight wavering in… the position of Dione wanting to be unexpected in this moment, was still not prepared for it to be met. But she does take your hand.
Hamnah: And you can feel the deep calluses in Eira's hands as they pull you in closer to themself. And as they do so, you are lifted off of the truck and onto a dance floor. Dione and Eira have gone to, I think, like, a bar in the center of town, that, ah, does like these like little, um, like, live music nights, and we know that a, a local band is playing tonight, and given how last minute everything is, I think this is like, the closest that we could find to what Dione wanted to do, and off, kind of to the side, ah, while this band is playing, um, Eira is holding Dione's hand as the two of them dance together.
Gwen: And the taste that this individual across the table experiences–it’s not scallop, it’s not potato–it was king oyster mushroom stems, scored, sliced to look like shellfish, marinated in miso paste and basted in butter. And those mashed potatoes were mashed cauliflower. This is a lighter dish than what it's masquerading as. And Dione, for the first time in a long time, for the first time in forever, revels in being unexpected.
Cai: You clearly have swept this restaurateur up in a moment, in a memory, in a feeling as they don't delicately eat this meal. All of the pretense is gone. This is no longer a moment of practice, of pretense. That familiar moment when you feed someone just the right meal at the right time. An ethereal thing that's so hard to catch, especially from a stranger standing outside of, well, your restaurant. Dione, what does it feel like to have the whole world shift and just want to stand still at the same time?
Gwen: It feels like a moment of clarity in absolute chaos, in noise, in a space where your body and mind is aching, but the euphoria of the atmosphere, of the unpredictability of the world, of–just this small contained space around her. It's almost euphoric as Dione–as these dance outings become more frequent between her and Eira. She brings herself closer and closer each time. And she smiles, and she laughs, and the Dragon settles for once, no longer writhing, but wings spreading in a movement of excitement, joy, a possibility that this body can lift off and go somewhere.
Cai: A card slides across the table. M. Fernandez, restaurateur. Palm Springs, California. A conversation, ah, very complimentary ah, conversation of your meal, your meal. They loved it. It wasn't just what they were looking for because they needed to eat. It was surprising. It was suggestive. It was new. “And if you ever wanted to find a new place, and you ever make your way out to California, I'll happily get you set up. I think that you would do very well if this is just what you can do with no prep. I've got kitchens eager for people like you.”
Gwen: Dione adjusts the emerald scarf in her hair and quirks a smile, the Snake continuing to wave back and forth. And across the table, she says, “I think I'd like to talk about training. Maybe six months?” And on the dal–dance floor, loud enough in Eira's ear: “I'd like to spend more time with you, if that's okay.”
Hamnah: Dione, as you hold the card in your hand, you turn it over to see that it is a bar napkin with a scribbled-over phone number in it, and Eira's name at the top. “Well, if we're gonna be spending more time together, you gotta have a way to contact me that isn't just yelling in the house.”
Gwen: “Well, fine, but that's my favorite way.”
Cai: Dione. “What part of yourself must die so that another part can live?” Or: “What part of yourself refuses to die, infecting the other parts alongside it?”
Gwen: The roots anchoring Dione here, the roots that felt so deep, deep in the earth, that sprout those poppyseed parts, begging her to fall asleep, are uprooted. They snap. And they make space as they die. They make space for those narcissus. They make space for those bright yellow daffodils. And, at least in her opinion–finally she has an opinion!–they look good on her.
Cai: With your major arcana, what part of your character sheet changes?
Gwen: Those poppies are narcissus. Those golden flowers, blooming brilliantly and taking root, shallow at first, but maybe deeper in the future.
Cai: And with the golden flowers in your eyes, what object in the house changes?
Gwen: That tripod that once belonged to Dione's mother is no longer, as Dione has upgraded to a full kit. It's not just the tripod anymore. There are lights. There is anything that you could possibly need to set up for getting that perfect shot, that perfect video. And it's already a lot put away, and when it's out it's almost like a wall, a skeleton of a studio.
Cai: The fire emerges in the hallway under the stair railing on the first floor. The first to burn is the downstairs hallway wall covered in images. Eira, what images curl and burn in the fire, and how do they accelerate the ruin?
Hamnah: The images are oil paintings of predators chasing prey. The fire curls around the edges of the painting, the oil highly flammable, feeding the fire, making it bigger and faster and warmer and more destructive. And we watch as these images burn, almost as if the animals are running away from the fire itself, as it consumes them all throughout the first floor.
Cai: The fire twists and climbs, hungry. It surges down the front hallway and into the kitchen. Seems to only take seconds for the cabinets above the counter to lose structure, causing one of the shelves laden with dishes to succumb above the sink. Cups tip off the burning shelf onto a knife, left carefully to dry over the edge of the sink. The cup falls and shatters. Where does it fling the blade? And what memory does it cut, Dione?
Gwen: The blade, the small paring knife, hurdles through the air and, almost as if it was running for comfort, it falls into the pocket of the apron. And it hides in that comfort of meticulous kitchen prep, with the ghost of the person this house belongs to, as it slowly, slowly begins to tear at that weathered pocket, as the blade begins to poke out.
Cai: And as the paring knife mingles with the memory, it all turns to ash. Outside, the guests flee backwards, but one person runs forward. Pascal. “Aspen and Eira are in there!” He pulls off his well-fitted brocade jacket as he charges down the aisle. Dione, what did you set in the aisle to capture this moment of joy? Is it made to shift and change, or be stable, dependable?
Gwen: Well, it can shift and change, but not today. There are three lights set up. There is the tripod. There's the diffusers. This can't be moved right now. It needs to capture this moment in time forever. It has to be staked down.
Cai: And Pascal charges towards it, but the sandbags, the stakes, all of it, creating a maze-like structure that he cannot just push past. His jacket snags on one of the light posts, halting him just before the kitchen explodes.
Cai: Upstairs, the third floor is burning. Aspen runs to the bunk bed, where they grab the nicely coiled climbing rope from their bag, and start to tie off to the heavy-framed bed, while Eira looks for a way out, away from the fire. But the window is locked shut. It has been for years, there's no screens on it, and unfortunately, the sash window itself has broken a long time ago. In the corner of an upstairs room, forgotten, a cane waits for use. Deen, will it bend or break? Will it shatter? Will it hurt, or heal, or just destroy?
Amir/Nada: It is never the most satisfying answer. It is, I think, a tense, short argument with Pascal about the last time they tripped over the cane in the hallway. Because it has to be Theo’s. Deen is convinced. Because Deen has tried to learn it. You cannot just take a cane as if it's a third leg and know that that's how your body was supposed to move. The whole point of using a cane is that your body's not moving how it's supposed to move. And, if there is any fire, Deen gives up, it is too sturdy for them. They needed something to adjust to their height. Their height that always changes, their posture is so bad. And it doesn't break. It is from the pharmacy, it's metal. It has the rubber foot at the bottom, but you can take it off. And at the bottom of that, even, is a metal beam. Solid.
Cai: Eira lifts the cane to break the window, shattering it. The fire, still surging up, still catches the bed through the macrame that's framing the door. The house burns. Most people watch in the street as the fire consumes Laurie's house. Aspen, having descended the side of the building safely, crawls down without injury or any ropes breaking. The fire itself consumes faster, hungry for those animals that fled through the flames. A knife burns away in the pocket, in ashes, in memories, letting the memory linger just a second longer. The two still-fiancees watch in the street, surrounded by guests. You all stand with them and watch. The fire department arrives moments later, but it is too late. 1471 Thomas Sloan Avenue, Laurie's house, is gone.