the world is dark and we are alive

[dismallyoriented]

A brief Halloween post for y'all, two days before the Big Day. There's this tragic horror tabletop game called 10 Candles, in which you play doomed characters in the middle of a dark apocalypse. By doomed I mean "all your characters will die at the end". It's an incredibly atmospheric game - you play in darkness, and the title comes from the ten candles that are lit as part of the game. Each candle represents one scene, and as your characters fail rolls, the candles go out one by one, until you have the final one remaining and your characters have their last stand against the monsters. It's a tremendous experience, nigh ritualistic. My wife just ran a streamed oneshot for our tabletop oneshots discord, and it fucked severely.

This was a poem I wrote after my first ever game (also with my now-wife, way back in 2017).

---

Who are we
At this table with our triple-A torchlight
As the sun drains out from the sky

Who huddles with us
Here inside our plywood and polyester
as the rain beats tempered time against the roof

Keep the bulbs dimmed
for now is the hour of candles

I've heard fire has a memory
that passes on from stick to wick
from tongue to lips
to ears

Whether campsite or cliffside or manor
We may watch and smell and wonder
Paint the shadows on our walls
with sap and chalk and the gum in our back pockets

Divining
from the candles and our idle words
Giving shape to the dark around us
We call on something by these conjured names
To burrow its way into willing spines

What waits at our table like smoke caught in a bowl
Lift up the lid and see what you release
white and wafting, then is sealed away once more

Hold your breath and let the moment pass.
This is the secret of playacting--
in three hours time we can blow it out
and I will cast its shadow when I leave

But for now, in this moment between
though my hands lie clasped beneath
I find you in the waiting dark
and here we stay