#fireside

Down Below The Reservoir

(I had to use the wayback machine for the website because I think its broken, but if you search up the title you should be able to find it.)

“Here is the horror of it: In the Town, you are a child only as long as you’re allowed. Then something happens, makes you different, and you have to be an adult. You never get the choice. One day, you have to change. And the crowd watches, making sure it happens…”

Down Below The Reservoir is the first Irish fiction podcast, adapted from the works of acclaimed horror maven Graham Tugwell (Everything Is Always Wrong) and voiced by award-winning writers Dave Rudden, Sarah Maria Griffin and Deirdre Sullivan. Published in twenty countries, through five continents, these stories unearth the very special misery of small-town Ireland, suspended between terror, hilarity and grief.

Fireside

“Fireside is the Irish Storytelling Podcast. Kevin C. Olohan is your host and Fireside Bard. Every Wednesday, Kevin takes a story from Folklore or Mythology, gives it a fresh retelling, and discusses the story itself and the craft, culture and history of Storytelling. Whether you’re a folklore fanatic, or someone who just enjoys hearing a good yarn, you can always join Kevin by the Fireside.”

Neighbourly - Mathew O’Casement

“Do you ever really know your neighbours? Neighbourly follows the residents of Little Street, house by house. What they do, how they interact with each other, and what skeletons are hiding in their closets. Our Narrator is definitely reliable.”

The Green Horizon

“The Green Horizon is a Lovie Awards shortlisted sci-fi audio comedy that focuses on a na'er-do-well Irish space captain and his rag-tag crew as they traverse a war-torn Galaxy in search of fame and fortune.”

The Devil’s Chair

Part 1 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FvXYRgbBoM

Part 2 - https://youtu.be/qMbUcqsD9UI?si=flGB6U4OoQa5jLab

“Dearbhla Ashe has always wanted a career in comedy, and has suffered hard to get as far as she has - a nightly show in a dilapidated hotel on a sleepy coastal town in Maine. It might be enough, but the appearance of a young, new comedic star forces her to choose whether to foster new talent or fight for her own position on stage.”

Written by Méabh de Brún (a.k.a. Carpenter from The Silt Verses)

And some special mentions of course:

Conversations With Ghosts

“Conversations with Ghosts is a new fiction podcast from the creators of Archive 81. Each episode is an interview with a different spirit, in which a cemetery’s mausoleum attendant attempts to convince the ghost to pass on.”

Featuring the voice of Penny O’Brien as Bridget Keegan in Episodes 1.3 & 1.14.

Keeping The Zoo

“Keeping the Zoo is a full-cast audio sitcom about a zoo that’s short on money but big on warm-hearted colleagues and animal shennanigans. It’s about work, friendship, capturing escaped animals, and finding out what’s important in life.”

Written and produced by Jon Madge. Features actor and playwright Denis Burke as Alan.

Arthur notices the second you settle it. He doesn’t say anything at first — just watches the way your posture shifts without you realizing. Chin a little higher. Shoulders squared like you’re testing how it feels to occupy more space.

Hosea looks up from his book, takes in the hat, then the stance, and his mouth quirks.

“Well,” he says mildly, “seems we’ve got ourselves a change in management.”

You glance at him. “Temporary oversight.”

Arthur snorts softly, propping himself up on his elbow. “Mm. What’s my position?”

You consider him like you’re reading a file.

“Probationary.”

Camp immediately perks up.

“Probationary?” Javier echoes, grinning.

Arthur’s brows lift. “That right.”

You nod once, calm. “Pending performance review.”

He leans back like this is the most entertaining thing that’s happened all week. “Reckon I better impress you then.”

You pivot, scanning camp like you’re taking inventory of a ship that might sink if you blink wrong.

“Status reports.”

Bill looks around. “You serious?”

Hosea answers for you. “You heard the boss.”

Laughter ripples, but people play along because it’s more fun than not.

Lenny raises a hand. “Camp morale: acceptable. Spoon count: suspiciously low.”

“Still missing?” you ask.

“Always.”

You nod gravely, as if this is a systemic failure.

You turn toward the horse line next.

“Inspection.” you say.

Someone groans. “Oh come on.”

You point to Sean. “You’re up.”

“Why me?”

“Because you complained yesterday.”

Camp laughs again as Sean trudges off, muttering, and starts actually checking tack like he’s proving a point. It’s ridiculous — and somehow completely effective. Within minutes, three more people wander over to help just because they’ve been assigned something.

Arthur watches the whole thing with a quiet, crooked smile, like he’s witnessing a perfectly executed con and he’s not even mad about it.

You step closer to him.

“Security.”

He looks up, amused. “Promotion?”

“Temporary.”

He nods solemnly. “I accept the responsibility.”

“Primary duties,” you continue, ticking them off on your fingers, “watch perimeter, deter nonsense, and refrain from starting fights unless absolutely necessary.”

Arthur huffs a laugh. “That last one’s tricky.”

“Probationary.” you remind him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Hosea nearly chokes on his coffee.

For a while, camp leans into it fully — people giving half-serious updates, pointing out tiny “issues” like crooked bedrolls or a pot that’s been boiling too long. The energy shifts from restless to playful, the kind of shared joke that makes everyone feel like they’re in on something.

You move through it like you belong at the center of it, the hat shadowing your eyes just enough to make your expression unreadable.

Arthur falls in step beside you eventually, close enough that his shoulder almost brushes yours.

“You always this organized?” he murmurs, low so only you hear.

“Only when unsupervised.”

He smiles, slow and warm. “Reckon we been runnin’ this place wrong.”

Across camp, Sean calls out, “Horse line cleared! No mutiny detected!”

You nod approvingly. “Good work.”

“Do I get a raise?”

“Try again next quarter.”

Arthur laughs under his breath, shaking his head.

That’s when Dutch arrives.

Drawn by the sound of a camp that’s suspiciously coordinated.

He takes in the scene — Sean reporting, Bill actually stacking crates, Lenny scribbling something like he’s documenting it — and finally you, standing there with that ridiculous, perfect hat.

“Well now,” Dutch says, voice edged with curiosity, “what’s all this?”

Hosea gestures loosely. “Operational restructuring.”

Dutch’s brows lift.

You meet his gaze evenly. “Morale initiative.”

There’s a beat — the kind where everyone waits to see if the joke ends or becomes something else.

Dutch smiles slowly.

“Carry on.” he says.

And just like that, it’s sanctioned.

Arthur leans closer as Dutch walks off, voice low and fond. “Looks like you got executive approval.”

You glance sideways. “Probationary.”

“Of course.”

By late afternoon the reports taper off, the joke softening back into normal camp noise. But the effect lingers — things are a little tidier, people a little lighter, like the structure gave everyone permission to breathe.

You finally pull the hat off, turning it in your hands.

Arthur watches, expression soft.

“You done bein’ boss?” he asks.

You set it down beside you. “For now.”

He nods, then after a moment nudges it back toward you with two fingers.

“Keep it,” he says. “Camp runs smoother.”

Hosea lifts his cup from across the fire. “Best leadership we’ve had in months.”

Arthur glances at you again, smile quiet but certain.