I was chatting with Sarah Doom this week—I can neither confirm nor deny a collaboration project—but we hit the topic of work tools and rituals.

As much as I like to think I’m immune to that kind of thing, the truth is: certain work just happens better in certain places. There are spots outside the house where I’m on fire, and corners inside the house where I hit a flow state almost instantly. And I’ve got my favorite notebooks, pens, and plenty of other accoutrements that do it for me.

Lately, I’ve been reclaiming the basement as my home office. During the early pandemic years, it turned into a hoard space, while I floated between the living room and dining table with my laptop. I’m still half-working from those spaces—and it’s not working anymore. Just carving out a little corner in the basement, setting up a rolling cart desk, gave me back a surprising amount of energy and focus. It makes the reclamation project easier and exciting.Why do we do this to ourselves? We know environment matters, but it takes hitting a wall to admit it finally.

In our Mythic Bastionland session, we were playing young swaggering knights when things took a serious turn. There was a learning moment for the characters, and a “talk it through” moment for us as players. These kinds of organic events aren’t uncommon at real tables, but they don’t always get captured on streams. I’m glad this one did—it’s a good watch. There’s a point where Kelwyn (my character) realizes the other knights are only following him because their leader lost a duel. And now, they might die fighting thirteen mythic wolves. That’s me metagaming a bit too, because I know five knights versus thirteen mythic wolves is going to cost us some NPCs I’ve grown attached to. Later, Thomas (playing Velamonte) has a moment where he asks—in and out of character—“Did I make a mistake?” around our how we dealt with the wolf pack leader.

That question turned into a bigger discussion at the end of the session with Judd, deconstructing what happened. That’s the gold, right there. Judd even clipped it: A Nice Post-Game Talk. It’s exactly what I think Actual Play strives to normalize: the imperfect stuff at real tables. Rules look-ups. Wrong calls. Players second-guessing choices. The conversations about “what just happened?”I dig playing with these folks.

I jacked up my September schedule and missed out on a Flying Circus session—right after a big mission! The downtime shenanigans in this game are just as engaging as the missions, and I’m cranky I had to skip.

I did get to play Rich Rogers’ M.A.C.E. Corps game, a Forged in the Dark hack set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I’m playing Marcus Washington, a legacy agent—young, sharp, naive. The campaign’s post-Secret Invasion with a bit of Nick Fury drama and even a Captain Marvel cameo. It’s been fun getting that MCU pulp-meets-drama energy at the table.

Lowell Francis and I recorded another Roll For Origin episode, this time covering Godlike and Wild Talents—two of my all-time favorite supers games. I’m also prepping to run Wild Talents as a short podcast series soon. The big question: Does this game still have legs?

I’ve started my first read-through of Coriolis: The Great Dark. This is a quick first pass to get the lay of the land, and it’s clear right away—it’s not your daddy’s Coriolis. The setting jumps 200 years forward, into a “Lost Horizon.” Stats and playbooks are different, but there’s a conversion system for 1E characters. I’m fascinated, and while I’m still processing, I’m eager to see how it plays once I get it to the table. And what can i use to improve the OG Coriolis game.

Thanks for reading, thanks for playing, and thanks for supporting the strange stuff.