![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
juushikaA Visit to San Sibilia by JimmyShelter is available on itch.io. It was in the Ukraine Bundle.
The Journal of Merolynth, selected pages
Editor’s note: the author uses calendar dates throughout her journal, except in the pages written in San Sibilia. This habit is preserved in this publication.
Brief passages have been stricken. Others are heavily underlined or circled. For readability, these have been rendered in simple strikethroughs (when the struck text is legible) and underlines.
Day 1 –
Safe arrival (train 15 minutes late to the station) & accommodations obtained. Hotel is surprisingly nice: small room, reasonable fee, but beautiful view of church spires and river beyond.
Met the concierge: goes by the name K (first initial? Kay? failed to inquire). Large-bodied, soothing demeanor. Has a lot of local knowledge and was quick to make recommendations. Seen other guests, owner? in passing.
Intended to get a lay of the city today, but travel fatigue got the best of me. Plan to eat at nearest café or bar and then call it an early night.
K's recommendations mainly for tourist & religious sites and museums. Did have the presence of mind to inquire re: bookbinder, scribe?; no luck. Note to self, tomorrow: libraries, universities? If all else fails, try history museum.
Day2 3 –
[7♠️Harrowing 5♠️walk in the park]
Writing sometime after midnight, but I'll start at the beginning.
Went out to breakfast at place K recommended: Café de la Fumera. Nice, not too expensive. Local cuisine very ... flavorful? Unexpected spice in drink, everything ornamented, herbed, &c. Good, but take it slow.
Should have eaten more. Only meal all day.
After, set out to get lay of the land. Purchased day pass for tram, attached [ed. note: on facing page, a scrap of printed blue paper, dated and stamped], amazing I failed to lose it. Z would say: minor miracles. Did lose: pocket change, map of the city purchased at station, new pocket notebook, favorite pen, watch (how?).
Took tram on loop through Saint Riocha (NTS churches &c) & La Bohamin (NTS arts, culture, college?), then disembarked at large central park, the Parco de los Lirios. Thought to eat, but was drawn to the lake. Promenade won’t get me help, I know this, but still took long walk along the water. Why? Getting feel for the place? Enjoying the sunshine? Don't like that I can't pin down my motive. Feels too much like Z.
Walk stretched long. Lake could not have been that big, but could not reach other side. Eventually broke off, followed path up to a gazebo. Rested. Feet aching. Main street only 100-200 yards away, but I could not remember which direction tram stop was in or how to get back. Retraced steps until I found the park's main entrance, then took a cab back to the hotel. Had to run inside for funds after discovering coin purse lost: humiliating.
Should ring for dinner, room service(?) but still feeling unsettled. Where did the day go?
Day 5 –
[Q♦️Joyous 6♠️message from a long-lost friend]
Intervening days more productive. Except meals (regular at Café dlF, learning to love the spiced drink) & dinner at the place around the corner from hotel, using cabs exclusively. More expensive but more intentional, less wasted time. No more getting lost.
Still no progress on book. Asking around, "making connections," exhausting. No luck at the libraries, all public, not rare texts or transcriptions. University better, but mostly history, not esoteric texts. Museum too hard to make contacts. Pursuing university leads; aide said, come back in two days, open hours for Prof. Maria Oubé, 3-5.
Returned to hotel to find letter (!?) waiting. Left forwarding information, so might have expected contact, but did not. From old friend of Z's, Serith, two years behind us, outgoing, black hair in braids?, can't recall face. Same condolences, skimmed. More relevantly, prior resident of San Sibilia. Transcribing relevant passage:
"... the city has a way of making itself known, and the people can be difficult to pin down. Friendly but enigmatic. In that way, the city feels a little like home. I lived there for about eighteen months, but it felt like a lifetime. If I could make one suggestion: immerse yourself in life there. You won’t regret it. And try the"
Reference to city's unique cuisine.
Immerse myself – the last thing I need. To spend more time here... The world may have given up on Z, but I have not.
Day 7 –
[10♠️ Dangerous 5♦️coffee in an open-air café]
Office hours for Dr. Oubé. Arrived early, not sure why. Afraid of another misadventure? Cabs and restaurants are eating through funds. Stressful. Refuse to go home empty-handed.
Dr. Oubé's office in the anthropology building. Old building, new wing. Dr. O herself - older, 50s?, glasses, dark brown skin. Beautiful white hair in twists. Not intimidating, but ... respectable?
Waited while she finished with student, then showed her Z's book. Anthropology dept. didn't seem auspicious, but aide was right. Dr. O equally interested in text and object, asked a lot of questions about provenance. I was mostly honest: family heirloom, recently uncovered, annotations recent. Failed to mention Z.
Think Dr. O knew I was holding something back. Invited me to local café after office hours. Agreed (needed to eat, anyway). Long discussion. More lost time, or is this how conversation with a new acquaintance always goes? Wouldn’t know. Talked about everything but can barely think of anything to write down. Pertinent notes:
Café by colleges overrun with students, but also professors. Good place to make connections? So tired of making connections.
Dr. O was easy to talk to. Born in the city. Family history, generations. Details fuzzy, some sort about saints?, a lot about the water. Cross-reference Church of the Eternal City (cidae eterna? (sp?)) if this becomes relevant; doubtful.
Dr. O knows the city inside and out. Knows people, neighborhoods, stories. Sees through historical lens, material history, cultural history. V. useful contact.
In truth, dear diary, I like her. Came back exhausted but ... fulfilled? Her advice seems to echo letter from S: immerse yourself. Spend some time, cross-reference, let it percolate.Tempted to
I do not have time.
Day 13 –
[K♠️Inspired 10♦️week-long festival]
Too many days since last entry. Lost time. Some productive: with help of Dr. O, dating book. Chemical composition of paper, ink, binding. Caused minor damage, but necessary (see p. 46, bottom, near binding). Dr O. offered to repair other damage, rip on p. 3, but I refused. Z's book, Z's work.
Dr. O connecting me with history/mythology prof. on sabbatical, Dr. Alder, to compare text, Z's annotations, and myths that fall under same "catalog index." Identifying figures, plot arcs, &c.
I thought it would go faster. Take the book to an expert and ... what? Yes, they'd say, authentic cover to cover, and if we turn it upside down and point to this word right here, then... I don't know. Then I would know. If; what. Where to go next.
Instead, while waiting, Dr. O has been showing me the city. Walking tours (haven't gotten lost again), restaurants, parks, the theater. Festival spilling like water from Saint Riocha out into rest of city, running for days now, dyed cakes in the bakery windows, singing at night on street outside my window. Overstimulating. Beautiful. Z would have loved it. Z would drag me places like Dr. O.
Distracting. I know I am forgetting things. I feel like I have forgotten the purpose of this.
[3♥️+3♠️: You change the city.]
[8♣️+5♣️: A new wind is blowing.]
Day 15 –
[9♣️ Shocking 4♦️gallery opening]
Today is the feast day of San Sibilia, patron saint of the city. Last day of festival. I could have just asked. Dr. O assumed I knew. Maybe I had heard it somewhere; can’t remember, information feels new.
Patron saint of the city, of doorways, of lost things, of beginnings. Ridiculous. Whole morning has been ridiculous. Outside my window, parades. Ritual dances under arches. Arches new? Can't recall. Z being played out on the streets, disappearing through doorways, laughter.Makes me
Focus.
Note from mythology professor, sent to hotel. Excited to meet (him, not me; I am, but). Note attached.
[On facing page, a short letter on fine stationary, envelop not preserved:]
"Dear Merolynth,
Your subject of research is of great interest to me, as is the artifact in your possession. A gallery is opening on [ed. note: date rendered illegible by water damage] that I believe you will find equally relevant. The owner is a collector of curiosities and rarities and has a reputation for aiding the pursuit of knowledge. Please see attached invitation [ed. note: not included]. Come as my guest, and dine with me after the event at my home address, [ed note: further water damage makes address illegible]"
From no answers to too many, too fast. They dance Z's dance. Doorways. I only suspected. Could be projecting. Can't tell.
Doesn't matter. Would be a fool not to go.
[3♦️+7♦️: A ripple moves through the city.]
Day ? –
[6♦️Planned 2♣️rendezvous with new friends.]
20, I think. Lost track. Not sure where to begin.
Last I wrote, was on my way to the gallery (ASM; can't remember what it stood for, can't find the invite. Asta? Sigma? Not important. NTS ask Dr. O, she may know).
Went to the gallery, met professor. Dr. Horatio Alder, gray-haired, slight, glasses, obvious émigré. Refugee, not from but to. Accent, familiar, Hearthlands?; affect gone native, very Sibilia. What did S say in letter? Enigmatic?
Asked me all the questions that Dr. O didn't, more personal, more probing. Did not intend to answer, but –
Gallery displaying familiar items. Mentioned in Z's book: amulet (see p. 34) and a mask (see p. 60). Fucking sword, hanging on the wall, see p. 81. Professor's reaction: not as shocked as I was, not surprised at all. Items were – entire gallery – remarkable. Beautiful, I suppose, but more. Felt like
Like Z's annotations. Seeing her handwriting, after. Familiar, beloved – something I never thought to see again.
Not making any sense. Just the facts:
Gallery. Familiar artifacts, as if plucked from book. Others,equally equal in effect.
Accepted invitation to dinner party. No choice, felt compelled, important connections. ~10 guests, remember only Dr. A, Dr. A's partner, Dr. O. Other professors, academics, collectors. Gallery proprietor. Artists? One (Bird? Broude? B) claimed to have crafted some items on display. Impossible, if all of a type with amulet &c, but why lie?
Party ran late. Stayed at Dr. A's overnight. Beautiful home, flat in the university district, guest room all in dusty purple. Passed out, then fitful sleep. Dreamt Z, not uncommon, but –
Silly. Not worth writing.
NTS Later that same day. Had to take a break, eat something, clear my head. Trying again:
Woke late, hungover I assume. City changed. Should have taken more detailed notes on San Sibilia construction in pages above. Didn't expect it to be relevant. Vague memories of marble, mosaics, frescoes, stained glass, quite beautiful. After waking, and in days since (day 16-now) have seen brick, timber, plaster, wrought iron. Trees, trees everywhere. Like home, only – ornate? Not right.
Magical. Obviously. Not sure why I resist using the term.
Wish Z had illustrated as well as annotated. Like home but bigger, stranger, lights in trees, lavish flower garden. Visited garden with Dr. A's partner, Kythe, yesterday: café (at least they still have those, still same spices in the drink), park (flower fields, petals in air, dark skies?), returned to Dr. A's flat, had sex, came to my fucking senses and left
The flowers. It's like her book. Wish Z had illustrated, is this what Z saw, is this where Z went?
Day 22 –
[A♦️serendipitous (redraw for vibes) J♦️Hopeful 10♣️package in the mail]
Calling prev entry day 20. Trying to compare against a calendar feels like a fool's errand. Still getting used to the changes.
Day 21, spent in, ignoring housekeeping except to beg concierge K for lunch and dinner. Reread swathes of Z's book, looking for:
A) had it also changed, answer: no, not that I can see. Original text all familiar (memory not so faulty I hope), Z's notes unchanged, read them dozens of time in last few months, trust self.
B) any mention of San Sibilia, answer: no. Skimmed, but hope that name would stand out. Nothing.
C) anything that makes more sense now
Answer to C) unclear. Yes & no. Recognized some other items from gallery ASM, I think, small things, silver leaf in queen's hair (see p. 21), candleholder (p. 8) could be any candleholder but nothing feels like coincidence.
San Sibilia is not where Z is. If it were, Z would find me/I would find Z. Also details don't match: Z's book, Z's descriptions are – not like this. More, weirder. How is weirder still possible?
Knew weirder was possible. Believed it, or would not have come to SS, but.
Z, you'd laugh at me. Parties, walks in flower fields, sleeping around. Not like me. Book changed you. SS changed me. Impossible not to draw connection. SS like your book, like you.
Day 22, today. Package received from Dr. A & Kythe, hand-delivered, knock at hotel room door. (Runner, child, not Dr. A or Kythe.) Note on facing page.
[On facing page, same stationary and hand as previous letter:]
"Dearest Merolynth,
We enjoyed hosting you for a few days. Should you ever wish private residence (not to besmirch the fine name of the Hotel Blanc) while you're here, our door is open.
Kythe sends biscuits, fresh-baked, cardamom shortbread, best eaten within a few days.
I sat down with Julio Moretti today, and your unusual book inevitably became the topic of conversation. He had, in his private collection, the following text. He's willing to show you the original, at your convenience, and can be reached through ASM.
Yours,
Horatio (& Kythe)"
I have been sitting with "following text" since opening the package. Ate one cookie, delicious. Thought of you, Z, thought of eating, tying, being tied to. Is that why you can't leave, or is it just another fairy story? Perverse impulse to eat text, too. It’s only a transcription, handwriting v. neat.
Hand aching. Will rest. Will reread text. Inevitably will follow directions. All of this has felt inevitable. SS, doorways, lost things, Z, love you.
[3 ♣️+ A♣️: A new wind is blowing.]
[10♥️+4♥️: A change of heart.]
[K♦️+K♣️: You change the city.]
Day 26 –
[2♥️First time 9♦️K♣️memory from times long past (Note: I paged through discards pile from 3x doubles to find suitable capstone.)]
Did not, that day. Went to desk, talked Kay into sharing spiced tea + rest of cookies. Did not outright ask if city felt different, but got impression, Kay that day, Café dlF waiter next morning, that natives recognize city changed. They don't know details? Maybe don't care about details. City of doorways, &c.: witness & accept change. Celebrate change – remember the festival.
Did take A & K up on offer, spent day at flat, night in their bed, hard to feel anything but fondness. Felt safe there, felt – not right, not mine, but – a home.
Bought time. Arranged meeting with J.M. to view text. Dr. A's copy was faultless; still good to see original, confirm – authenticity? Something like that.
Also needed to buy components. Long day, yesterday (Day 25) spent in market, exhausting, but fruitful. Not surprised. Thoughtful seller warned me about fungus. As if I didn't know. Even smell familiar, south woods in autumn, Mother never forgave you, Z. (Lie. She forgives you now.)
Mailed letter of thanks to Dr. O, remarkable woman. No farewells A & K, think they know. Tip for Kay, also asked to borrow kitchen stove for steps that require flame.
Zyphara. Despite womb, we were never even all that close. Will you laugh at me when I see you again? Leaving home. Doing all this. I don't even think you're trapped there, Z, never did. But if you won't leave, only give me your book, fairytales, like when we were girls, I will
I will come and find you.
⁂
AVtSS uses doubled pulls to mark gameplay progression. My first pull was doubled, so I didn't count that. For the others, I used the double as a mental checkpoint and let them "stack" to add multiple modifiers to inform the narrative beats they indicated. I drew new cards as prompts for the actual journal entry (except when noted, when the discards gave me room to massage my ending into shape). This is definitely not intended gameplay, it's just how my brain decided to do things and it worked fine.
A fudged one other pull for narrative vibes, as marked. I used dice to determine the passage of time when a large chunk had passed, and otherwise made the determination myself; this is suggested in the rules and works well.
Drew a total of 31 cards. Odd number because of aforementioned fudging.
I loved the introduction to this setting, which is brief and effective, and immediately helped me ground the beginning of my narrative. The rolls tables are condensed, working from red suits and black suits rather than giving every card a unique reference, which makes for incredibly easy lookup and doesn't scratch my itch for an excessively long list of prompts (and the replayability & diversity that offers). But the prompts suit the setting, and determining what might make getting coffee "dangerous" to my protagonist helped me develop her value structure. & could have introduced rogues and vagabonds, but I didn't take it in that direction.
This was my first successful run of a diary-style solo RPG. I didn't feel the immediate urge to transpose it into third person and would even call the journal a (gasp) productive element. It encourages brevity, at least in the style I wrote it, allows for backfilling skipped days, and the abbreviated style of a journal, eliding some details, obscuring others, made first person accessible to me; can't overstate how shocking that is.
This protagonist is plucked from the same novel-in-thinking as Keene. I needed to develop her relationship with her missing sister. This took it one way; the next solo RPG I played took it another, & I've found the contrast productive. Also it gave me a potential name for her sister. San Sibilia fits in nicely to her native setting ... feels like parallel world Merolynth/Meralyn/Marilyn, whatever her name may be.
The Journal of Merolynth, selected pages
Editor’s note: the author uses calendar dates throughout her journal, except in the pages written in San Sibilia. This habit is preserved in this publication.
Brief passages have been stricken. Others are heavily underlined or circled. For readability, these have been rendered in simple strikethroughs (when the struck text is legible) and underlines.
Day 1 –
Safe arrival (train 15 minutes late to the station) & accommodations obtained. Hotel is surprisingly nice: small room, reasonable fee, but beautiful view of church spires and river beyond.
Met the concierge: goes by the name K (first initial? Kay? failed to inquire). Large-bodied, soothing demeanor. Has a lot of local knowledge and was quick to make recommendations. Seen other guests, owner? in passing.
Intended to get a lay of the city today, but travel fatigue got the best of me. Plan to eat at nearest café or bar and then call it an early night.
K's recommendations mainly for tourist & religious sites and museums. Did have the presence of mind to inquire re: bookbinder, scribe?; no luck. Note to self, tomorrow: libraries, universities? If all else fails, try history museum.
Day
[7♠️Harrowing 5♠️walk in the park]
Writing sometime after midnight, but I'll start at the beginning.
Went out to breakfast at place K recommended: Café de la Fumera. Nice, not too expensive. Local cuisine very ... flavorful? Unexpected spice in drink, everything ornamented, herbed, &c. Good, but take it slow.
Should have eaten more. Only meal all day.
After, set out to get lay of the land. Purchased day pass for tram, attached [ed. note: on facing page, a scrap of printed blue paper, dated and stamped], amazing I failed to lose it. Z would say: minor miracles. Did lose: pocket change, map of the city purchased at station, new pocket notebook, favorite pen, watch (how?).
Took tram on loop through Saint Riocha (NTS churches &c) & La Bohamin (NTS arts, culture, college?), then disembarked at large central park, the Parco de los Lirios. Thought to eat, but was drawn to the lake. Promenade won’t get me help, I know this, but still took long walk along the water. Why? Getting feel for the place? Enjoying the sunshine? Don't like that I can't pin down my motive. Feels too much like Z.
Walk stretched long. Lake could not have been that big, but could not reach other side. Eventually broke off, followed path up to a gazebo. Rested. Feet aching. Main street only 100-200 yards away, but I could not remember which direction tram stop was in or how to get back. Retraced steps until I found the park's main entrance, then took a cab back to the hotel. Had to run inside for funds after discovering coin purse lost: humiliating.
Should ring for dinner, room service(?) but still feeling unsettled. Where did the day go?
Day 5 –
[Q♦️Joyous 6♠️message from a long-lost friend]
Intervening days more productive. Except meals (regular at Café dlF, learning to love the spiced drink) & dinner at the place around the corner from hotel, using cabs exclusively. More expensive but more intentional, less wasted time. No more getting lost.
Still no progress on book. Asking around, "making connections," exhausting. No luck at the libraries, all public, not rare texts or transcriptions. University better, but mostly history, not esoteric texts. Museum too hard to make contacts. Pursuing university leads; aide said, come back in two days, open hours for Prof. Maria Oubé, 3-5.
Returned to hotel to find letter (!?) waiting. Left forwarding information, so might have expected contact, but did not. From old friend of Z's, Serith, two years behind us, outgoing, black hair in braids?, can't recall face. Same condolences, skimmed. More relevantly, prior resident of San Sibilia. Transcribing relevant passage:
"... the city has a way of making itself known, and the people can be difficult to pin down. Friendly but enigmatic. In that way, the city feels a little like home. I lived there for about eighteen months, but it felt like a lifetime. If I could make one suggestion: immerse yourself in life there. You won’t regret it. And try the"
Reference to city's unique cuisine.
Immerse myself – the last thing I need. To spend more time here... The world may have given up on Z, but I have not.
Day 7 –
[10♠️ Dangerous 5♦️coffee in an open-air café]
Office hours for Dr. Oubé. Arrived early, not sure why. Afraid of another misadventure? Cabs and restaurants are eating through funds. Stressful. Refuse to go home empty-handed.
Dr. Oubé's office in the anthropology building. Old building, new wing. Dr. O herself - older, 50s?, glasses, dark brown skin. Beautiful white hair in twists. Not intimidating, but ... respectable?
Waited while she finished with student, then showed her Z's book. Anthropology dept. didn't seem auspicious, but aide was right. Dr. O equally interested in text and object, asked a lot of questions about provenance. I was mostly honest: family heirloom, recently uncovered, annotations recent. Failed to mention Z.
Think Dr. O knew I was holding something back. Invited me to local café after office hours. Agreed (needed to eat, anyway). Long discussion. More lost time, or is this how conversation with a new acquaintance always goes? Wouldn’t know. Talked about everything but can barely think of anything to write down. Pertinent notes:
Café by colleges overrun with students, but also professors. Good place to make connections? So tired of making connections.
Dr. O was easy to talk to. Born in the city. Family history, generations. Details fuzzy, some sort about saints?, a lot about the water. Cross-reference Church of the Eternal City (cidae eterna? (sp?)) if this becomes relevant; doubtful.
Dr. O knows the city inside and out. Knows people, neighborhoods, stories. Sees through historical lens, material history, cultural history. V. useful contact.
In truth, dear diary, I like her. Came back exhausted but ... fulfilled? Her advice seems to echo letter from S: immerse yourself. Spend some time, cross-reference, let it percolate.
I do not have time.
Day 13 –
[K♠️Inspired 10♦️week-long festival]
Too many days since last entry. Lost time. Some productive: with help of Dr. O, dating book. Chemical composition of paper, ink, binding. Caused minor damage, but necessary (see p. 46, bottom, near binding). Dr O. offered to repair other damage, rip on p. 3, but I refused. Z's book, Z's work.
Dr. O connecting me with history/mythology prof. on sabbatical, Dr. Alder, to compare text, Z's annotations, and myths that fall under same "catalog index." Identifying figures, plot arcs, &c.
I thought it would go faster. Take the book to an expert and ... what? Yes, they'd say, authentic cover to cover, and if we turn it upside down and point to this word right here, then... I don't know. Then I would know. If; what. Where to go next.
Instead, while waiting, Dr. O has been showing me the city. Walking tours (haven't gotten lost again), restaurants, parks, the theater. Festival spilling like water from Saint Riocha out into rest of city, running for days now, dyed cakes in the bakery windows, singing at night on street outside my window. Overstimulating. Beautiful. Z would have loved it. Z would drag me places like Dr. O.
Distracting. I know I am forgetting things. I feel like I have forgotten the purpose of this.
[3♥️+3♠️: You change the city.]
[8♣️+5♣️: A new wind is blowing.]
Day 15 –
[9♣️ Shocking 4♦️gallery opening]
Today is the feast day of San Sibilia, patron saint of the city. Last day of festival. I could have just asked. Dr. O assumed I knew. Maybe I had heard it somewhere; can’t remember, information feels new.
Patron saint of the city, of doorways, of lost things, of beginnings. Ridiculous. Whole morning has been ridiculous. Outside my window, parades. Ritual dances under arches. Arches new? Can't recall. Z being played out on the streets, disappearing through doorways, laughter.
Focus.
Note from mythology professor, sent to hotel. Excited to meet (him, not me; I am, but). Note attached.
[On facing page, a short letter on fine stationary, envelop not preserved:]
"Dear Merolynth,
Your subject of research is of great interest to me, as is the artifact in your possession. A gallery is opening on [ed. note: date rendered illegible by water damage] that I believe you will find equally relevant. The owner is a collector of curiosities and rarities and has a reputation for aiding the pursuit of knowledge. Please see attached invitation [ed. note: not included]. Come as my guest, and dine with me after the event at my home address, [ed note: further water damage makes address illegible]"
From no answers to too many, too fast. They dance Z's dance. Doorways. I only suspected. Could be projecting. Can't tell.
Doesn't matter. Would be a fool not to go.
[3♦️+7♦️: A ripple moves through the city.]
Day ? –
[6♦️Planned 2♣️rendezvous with new friends.]
20, I think. Lost track. Not sure where to begin.
Last I wrote, was on my way to the gallery (ASM; can't remember what it stood for, can't find the invite. Asta? Sigma? Not important. NTS ask Dr. O, she may know).
Went to the gallery, met professor. Dr. Horatio Alder, gray-haired, slight, glasses, obvious émigré. Refugee, not from but to. Accent, familiar, Hearthlands?; affect gone native, very Sibilia. What did S say in letter? Enigmatic?
Asked me all the questions that Dr. O didn't, more personal, more probing. Did not intend to answer, but –
Gallery displaying familiar items. Mentioned in Z's book: amulet (see p. 34) and a mask (see p. 60). Fucking sword, hanging on the wall, see p. 81. Professor's reaction: not as shocked as I was, not surprised at all. Items were – entire gallery – remarkable. Beautiful, I suppose, but more. Felt like
Like Z's annotations. Seeing her handwriting, after. Familiar, beloved – something I never thought to see again.
Not making any sense. Just the facts:
Gallery. Familiar artifacts, as if plucked from book. Others,
Accepted invitation to dinner party. No choice, felt compelled, important connections. ~10 guests, remember only Dr. A, Dr. A's partner, Dr. O. Other professors, academics, collectors. Gallery proprietor. Artists? One (Bird? Broude? B) claimed to have crafted some items on display. Impossible, if all of a type with amulet &c, but why lie?
Party ran late. Stayed at Dr. A's overnight. Beautiful home, flat in the university district, guest room all in dusty purple. Passed out, then fitful sleep. Dreamt Z, not uncommon, but –
Silly. Not worth writing.
NTS Later that same day. Had to take a break, eat something, clear my head. Trying again:
Woke late, hungover I assume. City changed. Should have taken more detailed notes on San Sibilia construction in pages above. Didn't expect it to be relevant. Vague memories of marble, mosaics, frescoes, stained glass, quite beautiful. After waking, and in days since (day 16-now) have seen brick, timber, plaster, wrought iron. Trees, trees everywhere. Like home, only – ornate? Not right.
Magical. Obviously. Not sure why I resist using the term.
Wish Z had illustrated as well as annotated. Like home but bigger, stranger, lights in trees, lavish flower garden. Visited garden with Dr. A's partner, Kythe, yesterday: café (at least they still have those, still same spices in the drink), park (flower fields, petals in air, dark skies?), returned to Dr. A's flat, had sex, came to my fucking senses and left
The flowers. It's like her book. Wish Z had illustrated, is this what Z saw, is this where Z went?
Day 22 –
[
Calling prev entry day 20. Trying to compare against a calendar feels like a fool's errand. Still getting used to the changes.
Day 21, spent in, ignoring housekeeping except to beg concierge K for lunch and dinner. Reread swathes of Z's book, looking for:
A) had it also changed, answer: no, not that I can see. Original text all familiar (memory not so faulty I hope), Z's notes unchanged, read them dozens of time in last few months, trust self.
B) any mention of San Sibilia, answer: no. Skimmed, but hope that name would stand out. Nothing.
C) anything that makes more sense now
Answer to C) unclear. Yes & no. Recognized some other items from gallery ASM, I think, small things, silver leaf in queen's hair (see p. 21), candleholder (p. 8) could be any candleholder but nothing feels like coincidence.
San Sibilia is not where Z is. If it were, Z would find me/I would find Z. Also details don't match: Z's book, Z's descriptions are – not like this. More, weirder. How is weirder still possible?
Knew weirder was possible. Believed it, or would not have come to SS, but.
Z, you'd laugh at me. Parties, walks in flower fields, sleeping around. Not like me. Book changed you. SS changed me. Impossible not to draw connection. SS like your book, like you.
Day 22, today. Package received from Dr. A & Kythe, hand-delivered, knock at hotel room door. (Runner, child, not Dr. A or Kythe.) Note on facing page.
[On facing page, same stationary and hand as previous letter:]
"Dearest Merolynth,
We enjoyed hosting you for a few days. Should you ever wish private residence (not to besmirch the fine name of the Hotel Blanc) while you're here, our door is open.
Kythe sends biscuits, fresh-baked, cardamom shortbread, best eaten within a few days.
I sat down with Julio Moretti today, and your unusual book inevitably became the topic of conversation. He had, in his private collection, the following text. He's willing to show you the original, at your convenience, and can be reached through ASM.
Yours,
Horatio (& Kythe)"
I have been sitting with "following text" since opening the package. Ate one cookie, delicious. Thought of you, Z, thought of eating, tying, being tied to. Is that why you can't leave, or is it just another fairy story? Perverse impulse to eat text, too. It’s only a transcription, handwriting v. neat.
Hand aching. Will rest. Will reread text. Inevitably will follow directions. All of this has felt inevitable. SS, doorways, lost things, Z, love you.
[3 ♣️+ A♣️: A new wind is blowing.]
[10♥️+4♥️: A change of heart.]
[K♦️+K♣️: You change the city.]
Day 26 –
[2♥️First time 9♦️K♣️memory from times long past (Note: I paged through discards pile from 3x doubles to find suitable capstone.)]
Did not, that day. Went to desk, talked Kay into sharing spiced tea + rest of cookies. Did not outright ask if city felt different, but got impression, Kay that day, Café dlF waiter next morning, that natives recognize city changed. They don't know details? Maybe don't care about details. City of doorways, &c.: witness & accept change. Celebrate change – remember the festival.
Did take A & K up on offer, spent day at flat, night in their bed, hard to feel anything but fondness. Felt safe there, felt – not right, not mine, but – a home.
Bought time. Arranged meeting with J.M. to view text. Dr. A's copy was faultless; still good to see original, confirm – authenticity? Something like that.
Also needed to buy components. Long day, yesterday (Day 25) spent in market, exhausting, but fruitful. Not surprised. Thoughtful seller warned me about fungus. As if I didn't know. Even smell familiar, south woods in autumn, Mother never forgave you, Z. (Lie. She forgives you now.)
Mailed letter of thanks to Dr. O, remarkable woman. No farewells A & K, think they know. Tip for Kay, also asked to borrow kitchen stove for steps that require flame.
Zyphara. Despite womb, we were never even all that close. Will you laugh at me when I see you again? Leaving home. Doing all this. I don't even think you're trapped there, Z, never did. But if you won't leave, only give me your book, fairytales, like when we were girls, I will
I will come and find you.
⁂
AVtSS uses doubled pulls to mark gameplay progression. My first pull was doubled, so I didn't count that. For the others, I used the double as a mental checkpoint and let them "stack" to add multiple modifiers to inform the narrative beats they indicated. I drew new cards as prompts for the actual journal entry (except when noted, when the discards gave me room to massage my ending into shape). This is definitely not intended gameplay, it's just how my brain decided to do things and it worked fine.
A fudged one other pull for narrative vibes, as marked. I used dice to determine the passage of time when a large chunk had passed, and otherwise made the determination myself; this is suggested in the rules and works well.
Drew a total of 31 cards. Odd number because of aforementioned fudging.
I loved the introduction to this setting, which is brief and effective, and immediately helped me ground the beginning of my narrative. The rolls tables are condensed, working from red suits and black suits rather than giving every card a unique reference, which makes for incredibly easy lookup and doesn't scratch my itch for an excessively long list of prompts (and the replayability & diversity that offers). But the prompts suit the setting, and determining what might make getting coffee "dangerous" to my protagonist helped me develop her value structure. & could have introduced rogues and vagabonds, but I didn't take it in that direction.
This was my first successful run of a diary-style solo RPG. I didn't feel the immediate urge to transpose it into third person and would even call the journal a (gasp) productive element. It encourages brevity, at least in the style I wrote it, allows for backfilling skipped days, and the abbreviated style of a journal, eliding some details, obscuring others, made first person accessible to me; can't overstate how shocking that is.
This protagonist is plucked from the same novel-in-thinking as Keene. I needed to develop her relationship with her missing sister. This took it one way; the next solo RPG I played took it another, & I've found the contrast productive. Also it gave me a potential name for her sister. San Sibilia fits in nicely to her native setting ... feels like parallel world Merolynth/Meralyn/Marilyn, whatever her name may be.
