the cleveland heights LGBTQ sci-fi and fantasyrole playing clubOceanofPDF.com the cleveland heights LGBTQ sci-fi and fantasyrole playing clubby Doug HendersonUniversity of Iowa PressIowa CityOceanofPDF.com University of Iowa Press, Iowa City 52242Copyright © 2021 by Doug Hendersonwww.uipress.uiowa.eduPrinted in the United States of AmericaCover design by Holly Dunn; text design by Omega ClayNo part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means without permission inwriting from the publisher. All reasonable steps have been taken to contact copyright holders ofmaterial used in this book. The publisher would be pleased to make suitable arrangements with anywhom it has not been possible to reach.Printed on acid-free paperLibrary of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication DataNames: Henderson, Doug, 1972– author.Title: The Cleveland Heights LGBTQ Sci-fi and FantasyRole Playing Club / Doug Henderson.Description: Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2021.Identifiers: LCCN 2020039792 (print) | LCCN 2020039793 (ebook) | ISBN 9781609387563(paperback) | ISBN 9781609387570 (ebook)Classification: LCC PS3608.E525858 C54 2021 (print) | LCC PS3608.E525858 (ebook) | DDC813/.6—dc23LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020039792LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020039793OceanofPDF.com For my motherOceanofPDF.com Contentsacknowledgments and thanksthe summoningthe fellowship of the roomthe sacrificethrift store herosneak attacktreasure huntersreturn to the underworldthe enemy revealedaltered beastthe horny homunculusdevil horns to the groundthere is no escape from the city of the deadnorth coast festivalvalerie and pollythe grimoire of erotic deedswelcome to midnightthe shambling horrorthe diealbertthe thing in the cellarpeering through the oculusOceanofPDF.com acknowledgments and thanksTo the MFA program at the University of San Francisco, where the first truedraft of this novel was completed. To K. M. Soehnlein, Stephen Beachy,Lewis Buzzbee, Lori Ostlund, and Nina Schuyler for their workshops,guidance, and advice. To Lynne Nugent and Kate Conlow for their editorialfeedback and for believing in this book. To Elizabeth Bernstein for so muchencouragement, and the San Francisco Writers Grotto, where the earlyscenes for this novel were developed. To PEN America and the Robert J.Dau Foundation for supporting emerging writers. To the amazing andtalented Bay Area Manuscript Group for work-shopping so much of thisnovel. To the Bay Area gaming community for so many adventures, andstories, and laughs. To Melanie Samay, who read every draft and still askedto read more. To my husband and family, without whom this writing lifewould have never started. To my mom, for everything.OceanofPDF.com the cleveland heights LGBTQ sci-fi and fantasyrole playing clubOceanofPDF.com the summoningBen stood in the basement and called upstairs, “Mom, have you seen mydice bag up there?”“What dice bag, sweetheart?” his mother replied from the kitchen.“My only dice bag.” He’d been using that same dice bag since highschool. “It’s made of purple velvet. Ties with a string.”“Where’d you leave it last?”“I thought on my desk but—”“Oh, well, that explains it.” His mother stepped into the doorway. Shewore her glasses around her neck on a silver chain. “That place is such amess down there, it’s a wonder you can even find your desk.”“Mom, please, I’m in a hurry.” Ben slid on his yellow windbreaker. Ofcourse she would bring this up now, as he was rushing to get out the door.“Can you help me look?”“It’s not up here. I can tell you that.”“Mom, please, just look.”As Ben turned to continue his search, his cat, Onigiri, slipped through hislegs and ran ahead of him.Ben kicked past piles of dirty clothes, dirty dishes, and empty beer cans.He pushed aside stacks of books and comics on his desk. He dug past hispencil cup, crammed full, and moved around the dusty model of the DeathStar he’d made in the seventh grade. But no dice bag.Last Thursday after gaming he had come in through the front door, notthe cellar door, because he was starving, and he wanted something to eat.He had slipped into the kitchen, warmed up some macaroni and cheese, andthen crept downstairs without turning on a light. He’d dropped his backpackby the La-Z-Boy, put his books on the desk, his wallet by the emptyaquarium, and his dice bag?Ben closed his eyes. He felt through the air with his fingers and stretchedout his mind, expanding it into every nook and corner of the basement,under the bed, behind the bookshelves, through the dark and musty shadowsof the storage room. “Little dice, lucky dice, where art thee? Manifest before me on the countof three. One, two, three.” Ben glanced at the floor between his feet.Nothing. He looked at his desk. Onigiri looked back, blinking, as dust wassettling upon the Death Star.God, he was an idiot. What was he thinking? Magic doesn’t exist. Thosedice were just dumb pieces of plastic. He knew that and still he was such aweirdo all the time. No wonder he couldn’t get a boyfriend. Ben collapsedonto the La-Z-Boy.Above him, the basement door opened with a squeak. “Ben, honey, arethese them?” From the top of the stairs came the sound of dice shaking intheir bag.“Yes!” He dashed up the steps and his mother dropped the velvet pouchinto his hand. “Thanks. Where were they?”“They were on the floor, next to the couch.”“But I looked there.”“Sometimes when you’re in a rush, you don’t see things that’re right infront of your face.”“And sometimes,” Ben said, “objects of power don’t reveal themselves tothe mortal plane unless called forth with a summoning spell.”His mother tsked. “You’ve been playing too many of those games.”“But, it worked,” Ben said as he headed downstairs.His mother called after him, “I only say that because I worry. You have tothink about the real world too, you know. Think about your future. You’realmost thirty after all.”“Mom, I’m twenty-five.”“That’s almost thirty in my book.”“Mom, stop.” They had already talked a million times about his future.“I’m going out the back. I’ll be home later.”With that, Ben climbed up the creaky ladder, through the cellar doors,and set out.…Coventry Road in Cleveland Heights was a power ballad, a nap, arainbow, a dull noise, a cluster fuck, a nostalgia, a dream. Coventry Roadwas coming and going, brick and steel and rust and graffiti and gum-stuck pavement, and tattered awnings and trash in the gutter. Mom-and-pop shopsof eclectic attractions, bookstores, restaurants, head shops, and a lonelyrecord store and noisy poetry readings and bars, taverns, pubs. Itsinhabitants were, as the story goes, hippies, punks, dropouts, and deadbeats.Had the story been turned to another page, it might have read yuppies andhipsters and heroes, and it would have told the same tale.Valerie propped open the front door of Readmore Comix and Games andpulled the large signboard in from the sidewalk.Comics! it announced in big white letters with a yellow arrowunderneath. Games, toys, collectibles, trading cards, fun!Long into old age she would remember the sound and feel of that boardscraping along the cement, so many times had she heard and felt itsvibrations as she dragged it along. She propped it against the front counterwith a thud.Valerie was short, with thick brown hair that curled at the ends,especially if she didn’t wash it. Although she’d switched from glasses tocontacts back in ninth grade, she still felt like she had glasses-face, which isto say the kind of face that looked like it had been wearing glasses all dayeven when it hadn’t. Working in a comic bookstore and reading all dayprobably didn’t help.Polly, standing behind the register with Kyle, asked, “Will someone makethe call?” She was wearing her foxy nurse outfit, which was the same as herregular nurse outfit but with fox ears and a tail.“We’re closing in five minutes,” Kyle yelled at the three customers stillslumped around the store reading. None of them moved an inch. It was wellunderstood amongst employees that customers had the worst sense ofhearing.“Make that four minutes,” Valerie said, looking at the wall clock.Valerie was ready to call it a day. She’d arrived a little late, just past ten,because she’d run up to the corner cafe to get a coffee and a Danish.Luckily, Kyle had arrived on time and already opened the shop.Kyle was alright. He had worked at Readmore longer than Valerie orPolly. He had long black hair that he tied in a ponytail, and he somehowmanaged to be skinny and yet have a belly, which Valerie assumed wasfrom drinking beer, because if he wasn’t talking about comic books, he wastalking about micro-brews. He usually wore a green army jacket over T-shirts with random sayings like “Make Tea not War” or “Rogues do it from Behind,” and while Valerie didn’t hate those shirts, they didn’t make herlaugh either, which generally summed up everything about Kyle.Aside from arguing with a customer over the near-mint rating on an issueof The Amazing Spiderman and trying to recommend a graphic novel withstrong female characters, the day had been uneventful. Walt, the storeowner, had called around three to ask if any good mail had come in, andafter a brief discussion of what exactly qualified as good mail, Valerie wasdisappointed to learn that the party supply catalogs she so fondly flippedthrough did not make the list.Valerie had only started working at Readmore at the beginning of thesummer, straight out of high school. She’d decided to give herself a year offafter graduating as she wasn’t sure yet what she wanted to do about college.It was so expensive. And student loans were so intimidating and depressing.She had no idea what she wanted to major in, or what she was good at. Andto make matters worse, her older sister Katie was studying abroad atCambridge, sucking up all their parent’s adoration and being generallyimpossible to compete with. Valerie decided, after several heated debateswith her parents, to take some time off and decide what she wanted to dowith herself.“Would you ever have sex with an alien?” she asked Polly and Kyle.They were standing behind the counter drumming their fingers on the glassand waiting for the last customer to leave.“Haven’t we talked about this already?” Polly asked.“Let’s say you met someone, and they were cool and attractive, but theytold you they were an alien. Do you think they’d be dateable or would youthink they’re crazy?”“No, Valerie, no.” Polly had red hair, blue eyes, and lots of freckles. Shewore vintage cardigans and canvas shoes, liked indie comics, the moreobscure the better, and when she played board games, she played them towin. She and Valerie had been friends in high school but didn’t start foolingaround until Valerie began working at Readmore.“This question is more for Kyle than for you,” Valerie said.“Why?” Polly asked.“I already know your answer.”“What are you saying?” Kyle asked. “You think I’m into freaky shit?”“For the record,” Polly said, “I could date an alien. I could date anyone aslong as they were a nice person.” She motioned toward Valerie with a flick of her hand.“Then why did you say no?” Valerie asked.“I said no for you. I don’t think you could date one. You couldn’t handleit.”“Why not?”Polly and Kyle exchanged a look and then Polly said, “I’m going to gocount down this second register.” The cash drawer snapped open with aclang.The clock struck seven and the last customer shuffled out.“We open again tomorrow,” Valerie called. “Ten a.m., bright and early.”The door swung shut and the bell above it dinged.As Kyle began counting down the last register, Valerie pulled herPlayer’s Handbook and her character sheets for her bard, Theegh, out frombehind the front counter. She’d been flipping through them all day.When Celeste had first cornered Valerie back by the military strategygames and asked her to join the LGBTQ Sci-Fi and Fantasy Role PlayingClub, she had answered, “I don’t think so.”“Why not?” Celeste asked, giving her that quizzical look she alwaysdoes. “I thought you loved D&D. Don’t you wanna fight monsters anddecimate the forces of evil?”And of course she wanted to, but it had seemed like such a commitment.She’d have to stay late and hang out in the back room. And work wasalready so long and boring.“But what?” Celeste asked. She clutched her medallion. She always worethese medallions around her neck, gold ones, silver ones, sometimes theyhad a fake gem in the center. “Don’t tell me you’re too cool or something.”“No,” Valerie had been quick to say, insulted by the suggestion.“Then who cares?” Celeste threw up her hands. “You don’t even have totell people it’s a queer group. Just tell them you’re playing D&D onThursdays, that’s all they need to know.”“I guess, but is it really going to be every single week?”“Look, this group is gonna die unless more people join, and then what?The city will have one less D&D group going. One less group for peoplewho wanna roll a twenty-sided die and get their game on. And quite frankly,one less safe space for queer people to be themselves and have fun. Is thatwhat you want?”“No, of course not.” So, Valerie had finally given in, especially after Celeste added, “I’ll letyou pick a magical weapon with either a bonus to hit or a bonus todamage.” And that had sealed the deal.Before Valerie could come around and lock the front door, Mooneyhampushed it wide open. The bell dinged.“What’s up fudge nuts?” Mooneyham said to Kyle. “And lady fudgenuts,” he said to Valerie. He dropped his black leather bag on the counterwith a thud. “Although I understand your nuts are neither fudge nor nuts.”Mooneyham was the other reason Valerie had avoided joining the groupfor so long.“I’ll count down the register in the back,” Kyle said as he slipped pastValerie and headed to the office.Mooneyham tossed his suit jacket onto the counter, loosened his tie, andunbuttoned his collar, revealing his hairy chest. Mooneyham was tall,broad, and dark haired. He worked in finance and made more money thaneveryone else in the group combined. With a sniff, he surveyed the storeand the rack of new titles. “Anything good come in this week?”“Not really.”“God, this place sucks. Why do I come here?”“I don’t know,” Valerie said.“Of course you don’t.” Mooneyham rolled up his sleeves with his thickfingers. His arms were hairy as well. “Who’s bringing snacks tonight—anddon’t say Ben.”Valerie’s hesitation was all Mooneyham seemed to need.“Fuck! He better not bring some crazy shit like last time. Christ. I hope togod I still have a protein bar in my bag. I’m gonna get set up.” Mooneyhamcollected his bag and jacket and made his way toward the back room,toward the curtain that hung in the doorway and separated the gaming roomfrom the rest of the store. “In the meantime, you should consider what yournuts are made of. No need to report back to me, but it’s probably somethingyou should know, in case you ever decide to use them.”With a sigh, Valerie turned to lock the front door when she noticed somemovement in the toy section, behind the stuffed dragon puppets. There wasa man, dressed in black, standing in the corner.“Hello,” Valerie called out as she approached. The man was wearing ashort top hat, tattered and frayed along the edges. How had Valerie not noticed this guy earlier? She must have been reading her Player’sHandbook more often than she thought.“Um, excuse me.” Valerie tapped the man on his shoulder. “We’reclosed.”Slowly, the man turned. Wavy blond hair hung from beneath the top hat.His skin was pale but good looking, almost pretty, in an unsettling way. Hemight have been wearing makeup, but Valerie couldn’t be sure in the dimlight. He smiled just enough to reveal pointy incisors.“I wish to purchase this multi-paged pictographic amusement,” the mansaid in a low voice, as though he hadn’t spoken all day. His lips moved insuch a way that it was difficult for Valerie to tell if the fangs were real orplastic. His short fingernails were painted black and the edges werechipped.“Sorry, but we already closed down the registers,” Valerie said. “Comeback tomorrow.”“Tomorrow?” The man’s smile disappeared. “Did you say the wordtomorrow? You apparently fail to understand the long, slow tediousness ofthe night that lies before me.”“Sorry,” Valerie said again. “But we’re closed.”“You dare deny the High Lord Varnec!” He revealed his fangs in full.They were not the cheap fakes that kids wore; they were the expensivefakes that adults wore.“The who?” Valerie asked. “Varnec?”“The High Lord Varnec.” He tossed back his head. “Brother of Darkness,Champion of Despair.” He straightened his shoulders, ascended to his fullheight, and glared down at Valerie with icy blue eyes.“Well,” said Valerie, “we’re still closed.”Varnec blubbered before blurting, “I’ll devour your soul!” He tossed hiscomics onto the floor, and pushed past Valerie, knocking over a spinnerrack of Disney comics. It crashed to the floor as Varnec flew out the door.“Whoa,” Polly said, coming out of the office to investigate. “What theheck was that?”“Just some customer who wants to devour my soul,” Valerie said as shestraightened the spinner rack. “Same old, same old.”… Ben arrived at Readmore apologetic and sweating, bags from the grocerystore swinging from his hands. It would be so nice if he could arrive at leastonce without being all sweaty, but that seemed to be impossible.The back room was small and had no windows. The walls were coveredup by shelves of books and graphic novels, the tops of which were crowdedwith figures and statues of various sizes: knights, warriors, and superheroesside by side, fighting monsters and dragons and each other. Once brightlycolored, they now wore helmets and shoulder pads of gray fuzz.In the center of the room two quivering card tables had been pushedtogether without a tablecloth, so as not to interfere with the rolling of thedice. A mismatched crew of worn and broken chairs, recruited fromkitchens and dining room sets, surrounded them like a skeleton armyclosing in for the kill.Old floor lamps in two corners provided warm amber light. Another lampstood darkened and dusty in a third corner, apparently broken, although Benhad never seen anyone attempt to turn it on.Celeste, the dungeon master, sat at the far end of the tables, peering overthe top of her dungeon master’s screen, a fold-out panel of cardboard withfanciful depictions of dragons and orcs and creatures unknown. The screenallowed Celeste to roll her dice in secret. Her braids were pulled back, and alarge silver medallion hung against her chest.“What’s this shit?” Mooneyham asked when Ben set the bags on thetable. “Dr Pepper and mini-donuts? Yes! You came through.”“I was in a hurry, so I just got whatever.” Ben had a different concernnow—someone new was sitting in his seat.This new guy had short dark hair and blue eyes and wore a heavy metalT-shirt that Ben figured would have been blacker if it hadn’t been washedso many times.“This is Albert,” Celeste said from the front of the table. “He’s joining ustonight.”“Hey,” Albert grinned, and Ben couldn’t remember the last time he’dseen stubble parted by a smile quite so nicely.There was no way, an absolute zero percent chance, that Ben was sittingnext to this guy.Ben could take the seat next to Mooneyham, but Mooneyham hadalready put his jacket and heavy bag there and Ben couldn’t ask him to move them now. If he did, Mooneyham would say, “Why don’t you sit overthere?” and point to the empty seat next to Albert.He could sit between Celeste and Valerie, but that chair was missing anarm and one of its legs was shorter than the others. It really served best asan ottoman for the person sitting across from it. Ben couldn’t survive anhour in that uncomfortable chair, but if he complained, Valerie or Celestewould just point out the empty seat next to Albert.Ben started to circle when Mooneyham said, “Would you just sit downalready so we can start?”So, Ben turned toward the only option still available: the empty seat toAlbert’s left.“Hey again,” Albert said, as Ben dropped into his chair. “I’m Albert.”“I know,” Ben mumbled into his backpack and pulled out his pens andcharacter sheets. “Welcome to the group.”OceanofPDF.com the fellowship of the roomAs Ben straightened out his character sheets, and shook his dice out of hisdice bag, Celeste clapped her hands from behind her dungeon master’sscreen. “You should all introduce your characters. Albert, since you’re thenewbie, why don’t you go first.”From a black folder with a sticker of a red pentagram on the front, Albertpulled out his character sheet. He had filled it out by hand and covered it inscribbles and doodles of weapons and monsters. “His name is GodsonFlamebender and he’s a neutral-good paladin.”“How can a paladin be neutral-good?” Mooneyham asked with a snort.“They’re a holy order. Don’t they have to be lawful?”“Typically,” Albert said. “He’s still a goody-goody knight-in-shining-armor type, but let’s just say he has fallen to certain temptations.”“What kind of temptations?” Mooneyham asked.“Sexual temptations,” Albert said.“What? There’s no sex in D&D,” Ben said. “At least, none that we’veever played.”“Exactly. It’s a lack of sex that’s causing all his problems, especially thekind of sex he’s interested in. He has to take all his frustrations out on thebattlefield. Why do you think he named his pole arm ‘the Rammaster’?”“I don’t know,” Ben said.Mooneyham snorted. “You wouldn’t.”“What about you guys?” Albert asked. He pulled a small plastic food-storage container from his backpack, and wrapped in toilet paper inside wasa small painted metal miniature of a paladin in heavy armor carrying a polearm. He placed the miniature on the table in front of his character sheet.“What are your characters like?”“I’m playing a wandering bard named Theegh,” Valerie said, gesturing ather unpainted miniature of an elf singing and playing a lute. “AndMooneyham’s a dwarf fighter named Gunther.”“A wandering bard and a dwarf fighter? That’s it?”“What more do you need?” Mooneyham asked. His miniature dwarf, nobigger than his thumb, had a giant axe, a big black beard, and red armor. It was meticulously painted, complete with a golden trimmed base with fakegrass and rocks.“Well, I always like a good background story,” Albert said. “That’s myfavorite part.”“Mine too,” Ben said.“What’s your character like then?” Albert asked.Ben picked at the corner of his character sheet. “His name is Bjorndarand he’s a druid.” Ben placed his miniature on the table: a hooded half-elfwith red hair, a dark green cloak, and a longbow on his back. The paint waschipped on the edges where the cloak swirled around the boots, but Benwas proud of the paint job nonetheless, since he’d done it himself. UnlikeMooneyham, he couldn’t afford to pay someone to paint miniatures for him.“Bjorndar was raised as an orphan by a traveling circus, but not really acircus like we think of a circus. More like a traveling performance group.Like medieval vaudeville or something like that.”“Yeah, that sounds way better,” Mooneyham said.“Just listen,” Celeste said, giving Mooneyham a look.“One day, when he was in his teens, he went out into the woods to fetchsome water from a mountain stream and there he saw a boy, about his sameage, watching from between the trees. The next day, the same thing, and theday after that too. How strange, he thought, why is this mysterious boyspying on me? Until finally, he called out to the boy. Tentatively the boycame out from the trees and introduced himself. His name was Peeko. Hisskin was as pale as moonlight on water and his eyes were big and dark likecaves just waiting to be explored.”“Yeah, we got it,” Mooneyham said.“Just keep going,” Albert said. “It’s good so far.”Ben’s throat was dry but the Niagara Falls of his back sweat was flowing.From the corner of his eye he could see Albert’s blue eyes watching himattentively, and he wasn’t sure if that made telling the story easier or harder.“Eventually Bjorndar befriended this strange boy. More and more withevery day he looked forward to their time together, climbing trees andplaying in the river, and when the circus left, Bjorndar ran away from hisfamily, who wasn’t his real family anyway, and he stayed behind withPeeko, who took him to his home, an all-male druid retreat hidden deep inthe mountains. There Bjorndar lived amongst the druids and learned thedruidic arts, earth magic and all that kind of stuff. Until one day a group of marauding orcs came through and raided the entire village. Bjorndar alonesurvived.”“How?” Albert asked.“I imagine he was out hunting and then came back to find everyoneslaughtered. Even his dear Peeko, who by now was his lover. Of course.”“How’d he die?” Albert asked.“I don’t know,” Ben said. “But they must have gutted him or donesomething horrific, because it sent Bjorndar into a painful and heartbrokenrage. He gathered what supplies were left and went off into the woods,taking up a life of solitude. Only now, at last, is he heading out into theworld to take his revenge against the orcs and find a way to mend hisbroken heart.” When he finished, Ben kept his eyes on his character sheet.He didn’t look at Albert. He didn’t look at anyone.“Pretty good,” Albert said.“I don’t know,” Mooneyham said. “That story makes me a littleuncomfortable.”“What? Why?” Ben asked.“’Cause it does.”“What about his?” Ben nodded toward Albert. “Flamebender theRammaster?”“His is sweet. A gay paladin that spears people up the butt? That’sawesome.”“It’s ridiculous.”“It’s better than an escapee from a nudist colony.”“They’re probably all vegans,” Valerie added.“He’s a druid! That’s how they live!”Everyone burst out laughing. Ben stood up and announced he needed abreak. Celeste quickly followed after him as Ben headed to the front of thestore, near the windows and the racks of hand puppets. This was the furthestspot from the back room and there was a sense, although unproven, that thepuppets would dampen the sound of any arguing.“I don’t like him,” Ben said.“He’s just being Mooneyham.”“I mean Albert. He makes me nervous. He’s not a good fit.”“Are you serious?”“I knew from the beginning, with the very first glimpse. He’s not like us.Just look at him. He’s too good looking to play D&D.” Ben paced amongst the puppets. “Who is this guy, coming in here all cool and good looking?”“Regardless,” Celeste said, and Ben could tell by the look on her facethat she was trying to be patient, “he told me he loves gaming, and it soundslike he’s a real geek at heart.”“Yeah, right. No geek, at heart, or at who-knows-what, has ever lookedthat perfect and joined a group like this.”“He’s not perfect. He’s wearing a T-shirt and jeans. And he didn’t evenbother to shave.”“Exactly! He’s perfectly unshaven. If I don’t shave, I look like a crazyperson.”“You are a crazy person.”“I certainly don’t look like that,” Ben motioned over his shoulder to theback room. “I just don’t get what he’s doing here.”“I told you, he just moved to Cleveland and he’s looking for a new group.He wants friends. Did you see his character sheet? I can tell he knows whathe’s doing.”Ben laughed. “Who moves to Cleveland? And people that good lookingdon’t need a fantasy role playing club to find friends. They can be runningaround in the real world, having sex and breaking hearts and doingwhatever they want. He should be at some party right now getting wastedand doing whatever. I don’t get it. Plus, his character is stupid.”“Stop.” Celeste grabbed Ben’s shoulders and put a halt to his pacing. “Itdoesn’t matter if you think his character is stupid. It doesn’t matter if youthink he’s amazing or a dud. I just got the group back up to five membersand I’m not going to let it fall apart again. Look at me. Are you listening?I’m going to ask you to pull yourself together and get back in the game. Doyou think you can do that?”There was a stack of dusty board games on the floor, and Ben found themfar more interesting than looking Celeste in the eye.Celeste was the reason Ben had joined the group. They went back tocollege, before she had transitioned, when she still went by Ronald.Although even then she’d begun growing her hair out and tentativelypresented as a woman. Ben knew with Celeste DMing he wouldn’t have toworry about anything with the group. He wasn’t expecting someone likeAlbert to join though.“Ben, are you listening to me?” Celeste shook him by the shoulders. “Areyou going to come back to the game with me or what?” So, it had come to this, either go home and endure a night alone with thecat or stay and endure who-knows-what while sitting next to a guy far toogood looking.“Alright, I’ll do it,” Ben said. “But I’m not sitting by him next week.”They returned to the back room and Ben tried to act as though nothinghad happened.“Thank you everyone for waiting.” Celeste retook her spot at the head ofthe table and smoothed back her braids.“For what it’s worth,” Albert said, as Ben sat down, “I think an escapeefrom a nudist colony sounds pretty hot.”Ben’s face went red and he turned his focus to Celeste, who was leaningover the gridded dry-erase map that she laid out across the tabletops, onehand clutching her silver medallion against her chest. If she had also heardAlbert’s comment, she didn’t respond, but she was smiling.“Adventurers,” Celeste said, with a clap of her hands. “Let’s begin. Asusual, you’re at the Cod and Piece.”“What’s that?” Albert asked.“The ye old gay bar in town. You stumble into the bar, out of the cold,rainy night, shaking off your coats and boots. The barkeep, JasperWhistletooth, leans over the countertop and says—”OceanofPDF.com