Illustration by Kirsten van Werven
Illustration by Kirsten van Werven

The Magic Circle

How Larp Gives Power to Queer Larpers

Editorial note: This article was originally published in the Knutpunkt 2026 book Seasons of Larp. It has been reprinted from there with the editors’ and authors’ permission. It has not been edited by Nordiclarp.org.

I remember the first time I stood in a ritual circle at a larp. It was a ritual for an old friend (he/him), who asked me to lead a performance that would consolidate his two lesser magic skills into greater magic, giving him the ability to cast stronger elemental magic spells than he could at the time. A transformative rite, yet only my second event as my new character, and I still felt haunted by the other character I had left behind. I remember the anxiety and the fear, the way my hands shook as I made my first attempt at leading other larpers through this magical process that was so inherent to our world. The burden of this ritual was mine alone, and though my mentor was nearby, it was a pressure I had not felt during a game for some time.

Still, beyond the panic, beyond the notes I grasped between my hands and the twine I spooled between participants, I recall a moment – just one moment – when something snapped into place in my mind, and I wasn’t afraid anymore. This power that my contributors and I wielded that evening – breathing magic into the air like rain – cleansed the space before the fire we cast, burnt the old, and allowed a phoenix to rise from the ashes.

Tell me – if not this magical circle of our game space, which welcomes change like the rising and falling tides – what other part of these games we play is such a perfect piece of symbolism for changing oneself? For becoming? We queer larpers often live our lives in half-truths and shadows, waiting for the sun to shine on us, waiting for the moment we can step into the circle and say, “Oh, there you are – there I am.” I am nothing if not a poet with the hands of one who so endlessly spins words into rhythm and rhyme, calling down the pieces of a puzzle to fit into place as I wish them. My preferred role out here in the real world is no different from the role I choose for myself in the games I attend: a wielder of words interlaced with intention. This is the heart of me, and I have threaded myself into three separate game spaces in the same way, speaking in riddles that resonate and casting magic to change myself, to change others, to reflect what truly is and what should have always been.

And yet, my queerness does not separate me from the other ritualists that I work with or the ones that know my name or my face from other factions, heritages, or groups in the same game space. Instead, my queerness individualises me. In being myself, in being loud about who I am, who I love, and how others should perceive me, I create a magic circle of my own. A space where those who accept – those who respect – see me as I am and can, in turn, be seen as who they are.

A circle of acceptance. One where your identity is more than a performance; it is fact, sown into the cosmos among the very stars.

Instead of the magic circle that is larp, or the magic circle that is ritual, the space provided to queer players is a patchwork of individual circles, each shining a light on a person’s true self as they deem it to be. Though the waters of an individual’s circle may be shrouded, in my experience, there is always more than one thread of truth in a player’s circle when they are timed-in to a game. In these spaces where identity carries forth so many people, through imaginary (yet real) battles, bloodshed, heartbreak, loss, and yes, even love, there is little time to pretend to hide yourself. Be of the shadows, be a rogue, an assassin, be a sketchy character who hoards secrets, but be welcome to wear yourself proudly! Be welcome to pin your pronouns to your clothes, to hold hands with those you love, to kiss and marry hordes of other players in a celebration of merriment and adoration. Be welcome to walk around the fires with each other and see nothing but smiles from strangers and friends in attendance.

However, larp is not some magical excep-tion where there is no homophobia or bigotry. There are those who will question your gender identity, your sexuality, and those who “do not understand” using singular they/them as pronouns, despite their use in the English language since at least 1375 – where its use in the English retelling of The Romance of William and Werewolf or William of Palerne is believed to be the earliest written account of “they” as a singular pronoun in English (Baron, 2018). Or, at least, the earliest surviving account to date.

Despite this, love, and be loved. Know that no matter what trials you may face, more larpers will stand with you than those who are against or confused by you. That no matter who disrespects who you are, they are unwelcome in these spaces. There are people who will take up arms for you; your friends, your group, your faction… The people who know and adore you. When the day comes that you can only whisper in protest, watch the roar that happens when others find out you’ve been disrespected. Watch the queer larpers and the allies band together, and see the magic circle shine bright.

How larps and larpers can empower a queer circle

It’s unfortunate that I have to write this, but there is no ultimate safe space in the world where queer people can be themselves without any worry. However, from my nearly seven years of experience playing in the UK larp scene, you can find a kind of safety and acceptance in the larp community that you may be lacking in your personal life or that you may not get to experience when out in society. There are larps where wearing pronoun badges is encouraged, and this is a step forward in respecting the identities of those around you because all it requires is a quick glance at someone’s bag strap, lapel, shoulder, or wherever they have it pinned. A wonderful example of a larp that encourages the wearing of pronoun badges by all players (in order to normalise their use) is Wilde Realms (UK, 2022), a UK dark fantasy larp system with an abundance of queer game team, crew members, and players. It’s a smaller larp, with an average of 60 to 70 players per game (Wilde Realms, 2025) and four games a year, but the community they’ve built there is the safest and most seen I have ever felt. And that feeling comes with you back to the real world because the people you meet there continue those connections. I have never felt as welcome to sit with and talk to so many groups of people at an event as I do when I’m playing at Wilde Realms. It may not have been the larp where I had my first experience of empowerment in a magic circle, but it has certainly become the place that I most associate with feeling whole in relation to my identity.

Wilde Realms has a zero-tolerance policy for bigotry, which is stated outright during the pre-game briefing at every event and has been in place since its conception in 2022. Although my first larp system was Curious Pastimes, a much larger UK fest-style larp, I witnessed Wilde Realms be one of the larps in the UK that are leading the call for the inclusion and use of pronoun badges from an organisational team to their players, while at Curious Pastimes and several other larp systems, pronoun badges were, and still are, a player-led commodity. The use and normalisation of pronoun badges is so important to Wilde Realms because they recognise the need for them to assist in the creation of a space of respect and understanding in larp. Take, for example, rule 5 in Wilde Realms’s Rules of Play:

“5. Respecting gender identity and pronouns
a. Respecting identity, including using the correct name and pronouns for the people around you, are mandatory, in accordance with our Code of Conduct. This will be reinforced with pronoun checks at briefing, and provision of complementary pronoun badges (where stocks allow). Intentional breaches of rule 5 will result in expulsion. Accidental breaches of rule 5, and accompanied corrections, should be handled with grace and good intent. Please refer to the Code of Conduct for further guidance. If you are experiencing trouble with another attendee in relation to rule 5, please speak to a member of the game team and we will step in discreetly on your behalf, in accordance with our safeguarding policy.”
(Wilde Realms, 2025)

A new magic circle

I specifically mentioned my tie to three larps earlier. The third is Descendants (UK, 2026), and it was born from my love of larp, the space it creates, and my need for the queer community to have more safe and accessible spaces. I wanted to prove, with the research and arguments in my thesis and the larp that reflected it, that this pastime we all share is more than just a hobby; that it creates pockets of acceptance away from the fires that keep razing parts of our world back in “real life”. These spaces – these magic, inclusive circles – are more important now than ever. As parts of society deem to paint queer and trans people with a brush of lies, allowing our community to – once more – be othered, and follow the decline of progress back to a time that no queer person wants to remember, we must stand together. We, the LGBTQIA+ community, with all of our rainbow of colours, and our allies who stand with us. It is by speaking out that we are heard. Yes, but it is also in the moments between – the moments that we create through our online communities, through our larps, and through the connections we make – that we can continue standing.

Descendants utilises an inclusivity and accessibility toolkit I created and tested through my larp. Some of the points in the toolkit include:

  1. The first rule of play outlines the importance of respecting everyone in the gamespace, with express mention of respecting identity.
  2. The use of pronoun badges (which are supplied by the event team, as opposed to players feeling that they need to provide them for themselves).
  3. The availability of various sizes of mixed all-gender bedroom spaces that players can opt into for larps with accom-modation, as well as the addition of a fem-identifying/fem-aligned room specifically for players who wouldn’t be comfortable rooming with everyone (this being “fem” as shorthand for “female”, not “fem” for “femme/feminine”), and a ground floor bedroom for players with accessibility needs.
  4. The use of non-verbal hand signs for check-ins and opt-outs during roleplay.
  5. Complete openness for the identity of all player, crew, and game team characters with respect to gender identity, gender expression, sexuality, and pronouns.
  6. An explicit rule regarding getting con-sent before touching another player or engaging in roleplay that may be highly emotional or triggering.

At Descendants, you are who you say you are, and your character is who you want them to be, and I am incredibly proud of my game team, crew, and my players for ensuring that our little community of full-fae and half-fae is so open and accepting.

Long live the (Un)Seelie Queen.

Starting small is still starting

I’ve mentioned pronoun badges a few times now, but they aren’t a tool only used in larp. The queer community has used them for years, and the more people adopt their use inside and outside of larps, the better. It, like the use of any pride flag or pride-flag-coloured apparel, is a symbol of safety for those of the queer/LGBTQIA+ community – and adding these small pins onto your clothing, your bag, or wearing a rainbow around your wrist are all ways you can convey without words that you are a safe person, whether you’re queer or not. A close friend of mine (he/him), who happens to be cisgender and heterosexual, wears a pronoun badge at larps and has one affixed to his bag that he takes with him to work. He does this purely to support his queer friends and show that he’s a safe person to the queer people around him, and I cannot thank him enough for this action. To him, it’s probably a small thing, but to me, and to other people in the queer community, it’s incredibly meaningful.

My dear friend spends a lot of his time surrounded by queer people at larps. At Wilde Realms, especially, there’s quite a number of us for such a small larp – but when you create a space run by queer larpers, queer larpers will flock to it. And when you’re a safe person with queer companions, other queer players will, ultimately, feel safe around you. Inadvertently, just by being himself and supporting his friends, he’s created his own magic circle like the ones I mentioned earlier. A place where he can be himself and explore his identity, and we are free to be ourselves and explore ours with only love and acceptance. There has never been a moment in our friendship where I’ve ever felt the need to defend my choices or my identity to him, and when I have needed someone to confide in, he’s been all too happy to sit with me and talk, because to him, my queerness does not separate us, it’s just another part of the me that he loves.

When I think of love and acceptance, I think of the friends I have made at larps, and the magic circles we have created between us. I think of my queer platonic partner (they/them), who has been my wife, sibling, and twin as different characters we’ve played because the love we share for each other allows us to circumnavigate all of our identities without concern for what others think they see between us. I think of the wedding ring their character presented to mine at Beltane in 2025 during the first Curious Pastimes event of the year, and the bracelet my character gave to theirs at Wilde Realms (where we are siblings instead of partners) in the same year.

I think of my group of Owls that I created at Wilde Realms, which is strong with queer-identifying people and allies. I think of all of the pronoun badges I see on players, monsters, and NPCs at Wilde Realms and how they always run out of she/they badges. I think of the people that purposefully refer to me as “they” because they know that I appreciate the effort and the acknowledgement of my non-binary identity, even though my pronouns are ordered “she/they” because I still try to make myself smaller in the world even as I shout for the right for my people to be and love who they want to.

I see the friends that I have made at larps who step into the magic circle with me and trust me to lead rituals that transform them. I see the magic we create, and I cannot help but feel hope for the future, even when the world is on fire; even when our world is on fire.

I have to remember, much like my first ritual, that phoenixes burn. But they come back stronger.

Bibliography

Baron, D. (2018) A brief history of singular ‘they’, Oxford English Dictionary. Available at: https://www.oed.com/discover/a-brief-history-of-singular-they (Accessed: 09 November 2025).

Wilde Realms (2025) Wilde Realms LARP Rulebook V2.4.5 , p. 42. Available at: https://www.wilde-realms.co.uk/rulebooks/core-rulebook (Accessed: 04 March 2026).

Ludography

Curious Pastimes (1996–) UK, Curious Pastimes Ltd.

Descendants (2026) Greywood, L., UK

Wilde Realms (2022–) Briggs, M. and Hopper, A., UK

This article is republished from the Knutpunkt 2026 book. Please cite it as:
Greywood, L. 2026. ‘The Magic Circle.’ In Seasons of Larp eds. Erlandsson, A., Svanevik, M., Holkar, M., and Brind, S. Gothenburg. Knutpunkt.

Written by

Lyssa Greywood Avatar

Lyssa (She/They) is a queer, non-binary writer based in Stoke-on-Trent, UK, who has been larping since 2019, and wrote the larp Descendants, which ran in March 2026. They are undertaking a PhD exploring gender and sexuality in larp at Manchester Metropolitan University, and are a published writer who also contributed to KP 2025. Their cats, Apollo and Calypso, have been steadfast companions in their journey to live forward.

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