Meet the Guests
A look at our dysfunctional ensemble
The Macabre Monday Dinner Party has begun.
The conversations are thrilling, the ambience is impeccable and the food is to die for.
This week, we want to take some time to introduce you to our stellar cast of characters to serve as a teaser for when we release the free, full PDF version of the project for your viewing pleasure.
Sorry if we missed you this time, but hopefully you can join in on the next Macabre Monday community project!
Below you will find descriptions of the characters written by the authors portraying them and artwork for a few of them by
. We are aiming to have the rest of the characters artistically portrayed by the end of the project.
The Cast
(HOST) THEBES: The maitre d' at the Anthesterian Arms. Very tall, a bit stiff and dry, his voice rumbles at a low but resounding frequency. He wears a black suit with a purple vest. He commands the staff with discreet whispers and hand signals. He is 54 years old, mostly bald, blue eyes, with a scar that runs from the corner of his mouth to his left ear. From his vest pocket is a chain and pocket watch. The watch cover is engraved with a pinecone and the initials JFA. He has an unsettling aura about him, not unfriendly, but not exactly welcoming either. He has a service to attend to. He smells like camphor and kerosene.
DR CLAUDE MOREAU-WEBB: An intense man in his mid to late 20s. Dresses and speaks formally in a fin de siecle/gaslight steampunk mode. Bilingual in French and English. Academic, medically qualified to the level of a pre-first world war doctor. Wearing a frock coat with pocket watch and white tie for dinner. Vaguely handsome, clean shaven, short buzzcut hair. Fixated on avoiding disease and maintaining hygiene. Will be alarmed if other guests appear unwell.
CPT HARLAND ELSON: Older man closer to 70 than 60, wears a blue sea-captain's coat and a brown fishermans sweater, and a white sea-captain's hat. He has a full white beard, his left eye is glass and seems to wander lazily. His left leg is severed at the knee, and sits in a driftwood bucket and peg-leg arrangement. The left leg of his black pants is not cut but tucked into the bucket and occasionally hangs loosely out. He wears a tall black boot on his right leg. He speaks with an irish brogue, and is keen on telling a new audience tales of his sea-faring adventures.
DANIEL WILLIAMSON: Young man in his early twenties, he arrives uninvited later on into the party. He is a backpacker and got lost on the trail three days prior to arriving at the location of the party. He has managed to keep his face mostly clean shaven, though he recently ran out of shaving cream and has some scruff coming in. On his arrival he is wearing dark brown, well-worn hiking pants, heavy hiking boots, and a sky blue t-shirt with the word “IMAGINE” printed in block letter, but he carries a large backpack with additional clothes and extra layers, as well as a small tent and sleeping pad, a hatchet, and a bottle of lighter fluid which is almost empty. His water bottle is empty and his food supplies are almost out, and he hasn’t bathed except in freezing mountain streams for almost two weeks. Strapped securely in an interior pocket of his backpack, he carries a 9mm handgun with seven bullets. His accent is American, and his eyes are filled with innocence, though anyone who is perceptive can see that he is quite intelligent, soaking in everything he sees.
CHERRY KILLS: 30 something. Bleached hair, fried. She wears thick eyeliner, inspired by Vivien Leigh’s version of Cleopatra, and high arched brows inspired by Claudette Colbert’s Cleopatra. Her dress is as light as a kitchen curtain blowing in a summer breeze, and when she moves, the flowery dress follows her around like a needy child. She has a tattoo of a hummingbird on her right forearm, its beak travels all the way up her arm, vanishing up the sleeve of her dress. She comes off as disinterested, but she’s always watching, listening. Mulling. On the table in front of her is a cigarette case. She’s American, but she doesn't care to admit it. Hates politics. Hates religion. Loves religion. Loves to talk about music but doesn’t care for musicians. Kleptomaniac, but never keeps the stolen item for long.
VAN BECKON: A grizzled, gregarious man in his early 40s. He’s got a friendly face, despite a gnarly scar that presumably came from some kind of animal. Beckon is a trapper by trade, after all. He even comes wearing the classic trapper hat, along with a henley shirt, and a fur-brimmed work jacket. From his physique, you can tell his athletic lifestyle is at odds with his love for beer. He looks like the kind of guy you’d meet at a beach bum bonfire, all wild hair and unkempt beard. Beckon is just thrilled to be invited away from the bitter cold of Minnesota Lake Country, where his business, and Norwegian-blooded family have resided for well over a century. As such, he’s got the region’s hallmark, slow-talking speech style, and stereotypical politeness that comes with it. Just don’t go near his canvas overnight bag; he’s pretty protective about what’s inside it.
GASCOIGNE: A shifty, rough, well-built man of unknown age (he could easily pass for late 40’s). His demeanor exudes annoyance and distrust, since he showed up out of obligation rather than genuine interest. At first glance, nothing about the man could be understood by his appearance other than he had been through some shit. Thin, straight, greasy black hair falls upon his shoulders making no effort to hide his pale scalp. He can usually be seen covering his corpse-like head with a midnight black, wide-brimmed panama style hat with a scarlet red band. He also sports a matching eye-patch to cover the eye he lost long ago. A deep, long scar blooms from both the bottom and top of the eye patch, signifying that a blade had kissed his face at one point. The scar noticeably disfigured his face, leaving his right eyebrow split as well as his thin lips. The two piece suit that matched his hat was covered by a menacing trench coat that has primitive red stitching holding the seams together. He speaks with a gravelly, harsh voice that only aids in furthering his dreadful appearance. His single eye could always be seen either darting around making keen observations or steadily staring at someone until they can’t take it anymore.
LILITH HART: A dour, petite, raven-haired young woman in her mid-twenties. Lilith Hart prides herself on her darkness. She takes her coffee black, her chocolate 90% cacao, and her clothing not a shade lighter than charcoal. She runs a not-exactly-successful business as a ghost hunter, and her favorite hobbies include strolling in graveyards and whispering sarcastic comments about the things going on around her. To the dinner party, she wears a black neo-Victorian gown and an onyx ring.
BRENDA SCHTILSHPANK: A 72-year-old retired homemaker and proud grandmother. Her silver hair is nestled quite skillfully in an oversized bun held together with bobby pins. She enjoys helping younger folk with her wisdom, of which she has plenty to spare, and she is delightfully ignorant of how her advice is received. She is dressed in a billowing home-tailored dress of bright colors and floral design that she fashioned from used bedsheets. She has with her a rather large but empty sack that is either a pillowcase or a purse, but probably both.
RUHANA BEGUM: A petite woman in her early 30s. Recently widowed. A last minute invitation brought her to the party. She is an heiress to a large fortune. She was recently on news for kicking out her own brother out of the family business. Her black hair flows freely down her back, covering half of her bare face. She is wearing a flowy dress gown with full sleeves that expose some bruises when stretched up. She prefers to remain in the background, but talks politely to everyone. Her eyes are shifty, taking in everything as if in danger. She is hiding a small gun in her purse which can be taken out in a few seconds.
MRS DEPRESSED: A woman in her 30’s. With a deep obsession with squirrels. She hates cats, but owns one. She doesn’t like her husband, her kids, no one. She’s a black woman. 5’6” and athletic build. She sits at home all day and trolls Substack looking for an outlet.
ALDEROSE “ROSIE” AIKEN: A slight woman in her 20s. She has very round, very large green eyes set in a pale, cherubic face. Her brown hair is worn in a french twist with microbangs resting above straight brows. She wears a simple black dress bearing a low scalloped collar and long sleeves. Her perfume is reminiscent of lily-of-the-valley. Upon her left index finger, she wears a silver ring with a round-cut emerald. She owns a reputable flower shop, Belle Époque, known for its stunning and symbolic arrangements. The news reported on the recent death of her business partner and shop’s co-owner, EMMELINE “EMMIE” CASH. ROSIE speaks little and smiles even less. She frequents the darkened corners of rooms.
STEN “SHOOTER” SALINGTON: A stout 30 year-old man. Son of famed arms dealer King Salington. He dresses awkwardly, as if he doesn’t know how to wear his own clothes, with misaligned buttons and cufflinks he is constantly fiddling with. He has a twirly moustache, a withering head of hair, and a large jacket packed full of firearms. Underneath the jacket he wears a tight beige vest, with matching pants. He was not invited to the party, but took his father’s place after King Salington became “unavailable.” He wants to prove to his father that he isn’t a joke and make him and his business proud at the dinner party by peddling his wares to the eccentric visitors. Sten is tragically stupid and doesn’t believe that guns can be used for anything other than sport. Deep down he believes he’s good natured, but that might just be one of the lies he’s telling himself. He is also awkward and easily corrupted by authority figures.
FELICITY BERRYCLOTH: A spritely young woman of humble origins in her late 20s who works in the area as a somewhat-renowned cook. Her food is known for its healing and sometimes metaphysical properties (did you hear she once made a soup that allowed you to interpret dreams? Or heal from illness?). As such, was once accused of witchcraft by her landlady, but it's widely speculated it's all made up to boost sales. Has an affinity for pigeons. She keeps her dark hair pinned into a small bun at the base of her skull and wears typical simple clothes associated with her class and profession. Accessories are also simple and practical: her lucky wooden spoon, a white linen apron, etc. Makes a mean (never pigeon) pot pie.
Your Weekly Horror Digest
offered some inspiration for fellow writers and shared a terrible idea about a little cell that is harbored in our brains. If you’re a germophobe, I’d steer clear!That’s all I have for you this week! Check back in next Monday for the Meet the Maniac interview.
Don’t forget about the Wicked Writing Contest! Two months left!
Join the discussion on notes here on the Substack platform every Monday!
Stay Spooky.
If you are looking for people to follow on notes for Macabre Monday, check out all the people participating (updated list): John Ward Andrew Smith Carla Pettigrew John Coon Jon T The Chronicler Honeygloom Macey A. B. Frank Cole Noble Leigh Parrish Buck Weiss Jenovia S.E. Reid Edward Rooster Jessica Maison reinancruz Shaina Read Patricia J.L. 👻🧶🖊️ Michael S. Atkinson Maribel Jennifer Morrow Stirling S Newberry Susan Earlam Author Michele Bardsley Lauren Salas Daniel W. Davison Daniel O’Donnell Nicolina Torres Michael P. Marpaung Olivia St. Lewis L.L. Ford Joshua T Calkins-Treworgy EJ Trask Anna C. Webster Skyla Redd Oscar Alec Worley Hannah V Kelly-Sibley Kathrine Elaine Renee George The Man Behind the Screen Hamish Kavanagh Kay Moulton Chris Well Brian Martinez A.M. Radio
The character outlines are so inspired, and the dialogue in the play is smart and sassy and just super. I can't wait till we share some of this script. So so good. Thank you writers and your characters!
The AI art is PHENOMENAL across the board, well done!