Star Wars OPEN STAR WARS - EPISODE UNKNOWN - THE EPITAPH OF TWILIGHT

STAR WARS - EPISODE UNKNOWN - THE EPITAPH OF TWILIGHT

THE END OF TIME!

With the TWILIGHT WARS finally over with the deaths of the MAKER and MASTER, the FIRST DARKNESS has been usurped by the traitor Arb, formerly ZAS’TEL, the final BLACK COAT.

With power to rival the MORTIS GODS, only the combined efforts of the PROTECTORS and DESTRUCTORS will be enough to save time itself, and prevent an infinite crisis across all reality…

From the immense shipyards of KUAT the nascent COUNCIL OF LIGHT AND DARK must come to terms, or risk their complete destruction…

… hey, are you reading this in my voice?

 

The Letter



It arrived through your letter box.

Loudly enough to catch your ear, quiet enough that the hustle and bustle of your household didn’t notice.

But you heard it.

It spoke to you.

Perhaps you were scrolling the forums on your phone, perhaps at your desk at work, or your office at home. But you knew.

It was for you.

You.

Right now.

Offline.

Not on, not plugged in.

And you knew, impossibly, it was from the Master of Masters.

You are humbly invited to an all expenses paid trip. A catch up. In person! Let us cross the sea of water rather than technology and meet at once. A decent hotel, a place between, friends in person! RSVP…

… as the game begins…

… and May The Force Be With You.

 

The Character Sheet

Player Character Name(s):

Internet Handle on the JCF:

Name Offline:

Age:

Personal Appearance:

Backstory:

As much or as little as you wish to use or share!

 

Premise

This game is a continuation of the Road to the Final Episode.

To this Episode.

Episode UNKNOWN.

The culmination of the Epitaph Saga.

The Game has moved into your Reality…

… so don’t forget to play as if your life depends on it.

You may play both yourself, offline (or a version of your offline self) and online, on these forums. Your internet handle will be your username on the Jedi Council forums. Your character in-game, the one you play in Road.

I hope you have fun.

And no, that’s not my breath upon the nape of your neck.

“I’ll see you soon.”

 

Player Character Name(s): The Master of Masters
Internet Handle on the JCF: Sinrebirth
Name Offline: Ryan
Age: 35
Personal Appearance: I mean if someone shows me how to get a photo of me onto here I’ll hire you!
Backstory: A young man and father of two, husband to one, boyfriend to two, from the United Kingdom. Star Wars fan, consumer of Pokemon, Kingdom Hearts, .Hack//, Yu-Gi-Oh and other lesser paraphernalia. A legal professional, a writer by hobby, a GM rather than roleplayer, a subpar tactician and a brilliant imaginer… and both Sinrebirth and the Master of Masters

 

Mentions for @HanSolo29, @Lady_Belligerent, @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael, @Darth Cocytus, @greyjedi125, @TheAdmiral as parallel to the Road to game.

 

OOC: GM Approved

The Character Sheet

Player Character Name(s): Uzuriel

Internet Handle on the JCF: darthbernael

Name Offline: JB

Age: 46

Personal Appearance: Old enough and ugly enough not to sear that image into your minds…

Backstory: Prior service military, now all but officially retired. Homebody and all around caretaker for the herd of minions here. And an imagination that makes me keep writing in stories that Sinrebirth keeps coming up with, aside from the ones I GM where I torment him in return. Write in my free time, away from here, still hoping to be published, one day.

 

GM Approved.

Player Character Name: Bellorum

Internet Handle on the JCF: @Lady_Belligerent

Name Offline: Isobel “Belle” Barlowe

Age: No.

Personal Appearance: classified

Backstory:
Currently on LOA from a major law enforcement group where I work as a forensic psychologist in the BAU.

 

GM Approved!

Player Character Name: Joren Graal

Internet Handle on the JCF: Self-explanatory

Name Offline: Harry

Age: 37

Personal Appearance:


Backstory: Only child, perpetually single, and currently works for a small town precinct in Upstate New York as a police detective. I blame Lady B for getting me into this writing thing; it’s become an obsession.

 

The Games Master

The tags came in.

Chime, chime, chime.

Notifications, emails, messages thrown across cyberspace to ensure that the fellows saw them.

It was like a cascade of possibility, creating, generating, ending, beginning.

Every stroke of the cerebral pen was another change to the fabric of someone - their minds absorbed impressions, responses, emotions, and they became a new person as they became cognizant of what had happened.

Every RPF post was a Change, after a fashion.

He relished it.

Their joy, their despair, their triumphs, their failures, their creations, their losses.

He held them in his hand.

But, the GM knew that they, too, held him in theirs.

Theirs was a reciprocal, symbiotic relationship between Games Master and Player. One could not exist without the other.

Otherwise, it was more shouting into a void with no audience.

Fanfic, arguably, but even then those little tales relied upon their 'likes' and 'shares' and support.

I digress.

The real world incarnations of his players, of his Aryan, of his Bernael, of his Bellorum, of his Soliloquy, of his Cocytus, of his Manticore, of his Jori Atreus, of his Adalia Durron, they all had TAGs and things to do.

Things to write.

He had two more games to finish writing for, which included his monolith, Episode XII, a success beyond his happiest hopes, a testament to the incredible players he had, and the raw materiel he had to draw upon.

But the Final Episode was merely the prelude to this, to his finale, to the game beyond the End of Time.

To the reality where Darkness could not reach.

Hopefully.

And so he sent the invitations to them, as the GM - as the Master of Masters - a sobriquet stolen, yes, but fitting because it told them nothing but created all opportunity. They each reached an envelope through their front door.

At the same time.

Do you know how difficult it is to coordinate that across continents on a disunited world?

He would have had an easier time achieving World Peace.

You are humbly invited to an all expenses paid trip. A catch up. In person! Let us cross the sea of water rather than technology and meet at once. A decent hotel, a place between, friends in person! RSVP…

… as the game begins…

… and May The Force Be With You.

He had already floated the idea to some of them, and a lot of them had answered, but not all.

Not everyone.

Those that didn't, or couldn't, because of the monstrous Darth Real Life, then so be it, he would cross them off the List.

The others, they could fly to him, accept his generous gift.

To meet, that great word of the Internet.

To cross that divide once more.

One final time.

TAG: @HanSolo29, @darthbernael, @Mitth_Fisto, @Lady_Belligerent (directly) and last calls for the participation of @Darth Cocytus, @greyjedi125, @TheAdmiral and @Adalia-Durron if you also wish to play a game set in pseudo-real-life...

IC OOC: This is henceforth the channel for points for you as your Real Life self (in-the game)

OOC OOC: Please respond IC as if you've received your latest set of TAGs, and of course my envelope!

 

IC Uzuriel
Home, as usual

Sitting down, pulling up the half of the coffee table that forms a good writing desk, I set the just heated coffee on it by the laptop. Opening it, ’Okay…let’s see what he’s done this time, with them all…’ The thought runs through my mind.

“Nope, first let's see what I can watch while writing.” ’Wait, I haven’t seen the newest Spiderman yet…’ Checking Disney with a groan and not seeing it, a quick search finding that it won’t be there until at least the end of the year. Another quick search and, yay, it’s on the cable provider.

Movie started, now time to write. Laptop open..asfasdgkrtnhoyjruki “No Khan, off the laptop.”

“Okay, let’s see, Bernael in Dark Reach, in Road to the Final, Tarkin and Marana in Road too, Xundel as well.” Copying and pasting the tags to the Google Doc for each, “Okay, now…really…Maldael in Ronin, Bernael again in War and Peace, and…whew, last one, Sinclair in that Courtship game. And, hmmm, should I include Feral in Sheep, Wyrock too as what they're doing could affect XII or Road?”

With seven new tabs open it was time to reread them, get in the mindset of each and get the singles done or combos started.

I honestly don’t know if everyone writes as I do but usually I just get into the head of the character and let it write itself, reading afterward to see what each had written. Which often makes for some interesting reads, and hopes that the GM gets a good laugh or an ‘ooohhhh!” moment.

Opening the first of the Road docs, another sip of coffee and a displacement of cat after he settles on my lap with the usual butt in face move first, the doorbell rings. ’Ughh, interrupted already…’

A few moments later, a digital signature, and the letter was sitting by the computer.

You are humbly invited to an all expenses paid trip. A catch up. In person! Let us cross the sea of water rather than technology and meet at once. A decent hotel, a place between, friends in person! RSVP…

… as the game begins…

… and May The Force Be With You.

’Hmmmm this ought to be quite interesting.’ the thought runs through my mind as I sip my coffee. Pulling out my phone, even if she’s upstairs, sending a message to the wife. Better that way than interrupting her further while she’s on her computer, in work from home mode.

Honey,

That message I’d been waiting for is here, seems I was right, going to meet up in person with the others.

The response comes back, faster than I thought…

Taking the minions? Or do I have all of them, and for how long?

Both good questions, guess I’ll find out when the ‘boss’ sends more information. Time to have some fun though…

TAG: @Sinrebirth, @Vehn (For a, sort of, mention of Sheep)

 

OOC: The following is a combo with Lady B – thank you so much!! It's always a pleasure!

IC: Isobel (Belle) and Harry
Belle's Home, Upstate New York

There was a heavy mist hanging in the trees outside of the large windows of Isobel’s studio. This room was why she purchased the house originally, the natural lighting and the views. Only recently she had window coverings constructed that she could quickly close if she felt exposed.

This evening she and Harry sat companionably at her large work table with hot drinks. They had enjoyed an early dinner in the kitchen and now retired to the studio to watch the rain while working on projects.

Belle typed a web address into her browser and turned her MacBook Air so that Harry would get his computer powered on. "Let’s see if Sinre posted an update for the new game," she said cheerfully, "I’m beyond excited that you’ve finally joined the madness, and I know you’ll be as enthusiastic as I am once you get into it."

She sat back in her chair and picked up a cookie from the saucer she’d placed between them. Snacks were a vital part of the writing process, and she would make sure they had plenty of options. Taking a bite she used the cookie to emphasize her point as she spoke, "your last post was amazing, aren’t you excited to dig deeper into Joren’s story?" She asked Harry. "You have to admit that it’s therapeutic and way better than sitting glazed over in front of the TV every night," she popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth and shrugged.

"I don’t know, I have a lot of shows to catch up on," Harry murmured with indifference, his motions rather sluggish as he worked to remove his own laptop from the protective case. "The jury’s still out on whether this is an effective use of my time."

In truth, his statement was more of an embellishment; he actually did care about their weekly gatherings for dinner and leisure. However, he wouldn’t dare express those sentiments outwardly, especially when he feared Belle’s expectations would not coincide with his reasoning. Her excitement over writing was palpable, and while he found pleasure in adopting a new persona and portraying that character within the confines of a story, that wasn’t the main incentive for why he had agreed to participate in these sessions.

There were the therapeutic benefits, which offered an escape from the stress of their work-related responsibilities—but also the camaraderie. Despite his tendency to shy away from social situations to wallow in his own personal solitude—he was the perfect embodiment of an introvert—there was something about Belle that eased his mind. She seemed to understand his plight, and he was able to relax in her presence. In that sense, he was doing this for her; he enjoyed her company.

"It looks like we’re back at square one with our friend Arb," Harry stated once he opened the browser and navigated to the Jedi Council Forums. "I can’t say I’m too surprised. This Sinrebirth seems intent on watching our characters suffer."

Reclining back, he crossed his arms over his chest and glanced over the screen to regard Belle. "You know, it doesn’t sound too different from some of the cases you’ve worked on. I wonder if you can deconstruct his personality. Give us an advantage."

A wry grin touched his lips.

Her eyes shifted from the screen to Harry, ignoring the comment about his "shows" was easy, but now he brought work into it. She groaned and massaged her forehead while thinking of how she needed to stop the reflex of her frontalis muscle raising. Unsightly lines would lead to wrinkles years down the road.

"This is to escape work, Harry," Belle answered with a smirk. "As you know, the majority of my work was focused on serial killers, and I’ve personally interviewed a handful, which isn’t a pleasant experience." She realized she was quickly falling into the clinical tone that she used to discuss deeply disturbed individuals who have committed violent crimes.

"Arb stretches the truth, and he’s fond of mind games, but I really can’t make a comparison to say someone like Charles Albright, the 'eyeball killer', and certainly not to Larry Bright." She chewed on her lower lip while she was thinking.

"You know, maybe it’s the TOS rules that keep him from going too far? But, I still do NOT see him carrying out sexually motivated crimes." It was a path she didn’t want to go down, this was her escape!

"Sinre does have a passion for keeping us on the edge, but I rather enjoy it," Belle wanted to get them back to their writing.

"Where were we?" She asked as she clicked on a PM. "Should we blow something up?"

Harry exhaled sharply and fell silent, his gaze immediately shifting back to the laptop screen where he idly directed the cursor around the page with his finger. There was no purpose or objective to his actions except to distract himself from this embarrassing moment. He had made a crucial mistake by mentioning their work, causing Belle to feel uncomfortable. That was never his intention, and now he silently berated himself for being so foolish.

At this point, it felt nearly impossible to proceed. He wondered if she would grant him a reprieve—perhaps to the bathroom or the kitchen—if he appeared disinterested. It was the only reasonable mode of escape that wouldn’t appear suspicious.

"I’m not sure if causing an explosion will help us in this case," he mumbled rather flatly, merely going through the motions as he leaned forward to rest his palm against his chin. "That sounds a bit excessive."

Another awkward pause followed, prompting Harry to once again stare absently at the webpage. He had hoped Belle would understand and reply accordingly, but when it became clear that she wasn’t going to comply with his expectations, he began to panic. As a result, the first thing to come to mind slipped heedlessly from his lips.

"Also, I was talking about Sinre," he said in a clumsy manner, gesturing with his hand in an attempt to clarify his words. "When I mentioned deconstructing his personality? That, umm… that was Sinre. I was, uh… talking about Sinre."

Belle quickly looked over at Harry, her cheeks were flushed pink. "I’m so sorry, I misunderstood since I was thinking about the game." She looked back at her own screen and caught herself biting at her lower lip, which caused more blushing.

Lower lip biting is used to display sexual attraction. Biting the lip can bring blood flow to our lips, making them appear redder.

No! She didn’t want Harry to think that!

"I’m not sure I would want to analyze Sinre’s personality," she said thoughtfully, "he’s a friend, and a great guy, so I’d be totally crushed if I discovered he was a psychopath."

She switched the conversation back to Arb, "something is up with him having the statues there, I’m pretty concerned about that." She cringed and started to reread the tag from Sinre’s last update, but then stopped to check the time.

"I want to try and get my post done before Yellowstone," she smiled sheepishly, "tonight is a new episode."

It was a welcome respite when Belle attempted to change the subject. Of course, Harry recognized it for what it was—a deflection, but he wasn’t about to call attention to that fact, especially after observing her odd behavior. He was content to give her this moment, even if he wasn’t entirely thrilled about the chosen topic.

"You and Yellowstone," he muttered with mock disdain, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I feel like I’m missing out on something… or maybe I just don’t understand the appeal of Kevin Costner—"

Before he could elaborate, the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway cut him off. The misty afternoon had already faded into a gloomy twilight, so it was strange that someone would visit at this hour, particularly when Belle’s house wasn’t readily accessible to commuters. It was a quaint little home, nestled back in the woods and secluded from the main thoroughfare that led into town. It required a private access road, mostly of dirt and stone, to gain entry. Having someone approach unannounced was therefore concerning.

His natural instincts took over as Harry rose swiftly from the couch and crossed the distance to the front window with careful steps. A furtive glance and a slight wag of his index finger were the only warnings he afforded Belle at this point. He didn’t want her to move; not until he knew more about the alleged trespassers.

Pressing his shoulder against the wall, one hand resting firmly on the butt of his holstered Glock, Harry discreetly pulled back the curtain to get a better view. He slowly released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he recognized the pale blue uniform of a postal service employee.

"It’s the mailman," he revealed plainly, his brow still furrowed with concern. He hesitated a moment before stepping back to regard Belle. "Were you expecting a delivery? It’s kinda late for that."

Belle had quietly slid a Sig Sauer P226 Legion from the cabinet behind her, and then she crossed to stand behind Harry. Her voice was barely a whisper when she answered, "I’m not expecting anything."

The delivery man tapped on the door, and Belle called out, "leave it on the porch!"

Yes, she should’ve just let Harry handle this, but it was her house, so she’d answered the tap by reflex. "Sorry!" She mouthed to Harry.

The delivery man called out that a signature was required from two parties at this address.

Isobel secured the handgun in the back of her waistband and went to open the door. "Cover me," she smirked and unlocked the door.

It was fairly creepy to see a postman standing in the gloomy mist with two mysterious envelopes, both sealed with a wax insignia. Belle quickly signed for both and murmured a thank you.

Back inside, she stood with Harry to watch the man leave until the glow of his red taillights disappeared, obscured by the trees.

She showed Harry the letters, "one is addressed to you," she said pointing out his name, "who on earth would know you’re here tonight?"

It was one of her questions that she didn’t expect an answer to, and she was already hurrying to open her letter.

TAG: @Lady_Belligerent; @Sinrebirth

 

Days later

They all had their times and places, and tickets and plans.

Some had children to sort, others, their pets, some, spouses and partners and parents and families.

It wasn't a simple matter of uprooting oneself and heading to a Meet, not for most.

The online was a distraction from the offline, not to replace.

Today, here and now, they would intersect.

They had various flights and layovers, yes, but through some artful manipulation of the Timetable, they would all arrive at Heathrow airport - no matter the distance they had travelled - at the same time.



They would be anticipated to reach the Costa Coffee at the airport at roughly 1pm GMT.

This would have some impact upon how sleepy they were, perhaps, but the later details had recommended that they sleep during the flight (or not), as need be, to ensure they were roughly on the right time mentally and physically when they arrived.



Their host was not present, but they'd each arrive in good time - separately, yes, but in whatever order they chose, around the pleasantaries of Duty Free or perhaps obligatory pee breaks.

They were here.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael, @Lady_Belligerent, @HanSolo29 (you may post more than once between now and the next update day of the 21st, minimum once, maximum five times, singles only please)

 

IC Uzuriel and Tracel
Heathrow, time to meet

As the flight landed, I decided that my trip was probably the shortest of those who had been invited, only an hour and ten minutes in the air. Which meant I and Tracel arrived only, technically, ten minutes after we left home. Thinking of Tracel made me chuckle. In the stories, in the RPs, Tracel was a male but really he was based off of a she, the attitude at least, that of the youngest, who I’d brought with me.

The last message had said that all were to meet up at the Costa Coffee at 1pm UTC so, I checked my watch. With the flight we’d arrived with about 50 minutes to spare. Both of us had carry on bags that were small enough to fit in the overhead but, with how they were packed, good for at least two weeks worth of clothes and toiletries. Tracel’s was more flamboyant than mine, in a bright pink yet with a massive sticker with Grogu’s face emblazoned on it. Mine was a simple black. The wheels made small clicking noises as they rolled across the floor.

Since there was time we made a stop at the Duty Free shop. With the browsing Tracel decided no a few bags of candy and a drink while I picked up a couple small items for the boys but waited for later, if there was a chance, to pick up something for the wife. Checking my watch again, we had time to make it to the coffee shop and still have around 15 minutes before the time was set to meet, after paying.

Purchases stowed in the bags, including the drink for later, we made our way across the terminal, following the signs and staying close to each other with the crowds, until we reached the Costa Coffee. Ordering a large mocha style coffee for myself and buying one of those premade fruit smoothie drinks for Tracel we looked for a spot. Finding a table with a seat that let me put my back to the wall I sent the wife a text saying that not only had we arrived but we were at the meeting point.

As I took the first sip I pondered what I knew of the others, checking the boards on my phone, using the wifi of the coffee shop to avoid extra costs. Tracel had her tablet and was using the wifi too, watching Youtube videos as she drank. My eyes roved the coffee shop every minute or so, trying to see if the others had arrived, tried to see if I’d recognize them when they did arrive or if they were already there.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @Mitth_Fisto, @Lady_Belligerent, @HanSolo29

 

IC: Isobel Barlowe
British Airways flight to Heathrow

“I hate flying,” Isobel murmured during the take off while clutching the armrest between herself and Harry. She closed her eyes and imagined billows of black smoke and fire. Had she counted the rows from their seats to an emergency exit? Damn it! Belle opened her eyes and counted the rows, okay, I’m good now, she thought.

Once they seemed to be leveling out, Belle opened her handbag and took out a container of medication. She split an Ativan in half and swallowed it with a sip of water, it meant she would have to pass on a glass of wine, but she wanted to be relaxed for the flight.

Later after they’d been served some snacks, Belle flipped through the movie guide. She saw one film about a serial killer she had interviewed in prison, nope! She returned the guide to the seat pocket. Watching that would be too much like working, and she was escaping that.

“I hope we’re able to do a little sightseeing,” she quietly told Harry, “and for some shopping too. I left plenty of space in my luggage for my purchases.”

The Ativan was starting to kick in, and she felt drowsy, her head was feeling heavy and leaned towards Harry’s shoulder, “push my head back if I drool,” Belle mumbled, now sounding drunk. She was out before her head dropped onto his shoulder.

Belle woke up feeling disoriented for a moment because they were already landing. Was there an emergency? She quickly counted the rows to the emergency exit before she realized they were landing at Heathrow. “That was a really quick flight,” she said to Harry as she stretched and shoved her handbag back into her carry on.

The next hour was busy with disembarking the plane, then baggage and customs. Thankfully she and Harry could go through a special agent, and only needed to show their credentials and paperwork to enter the country with their weapons. Belle expected to lock it up once they reached their lodging, but it made her feel better knowing she had it.

“I’m hitting the ladies room,” she said as they neared restrooms, “I won’t be long.” Belle washed her hands and glanced in the mirror, she decided that it would be a good idea to comb her hair and apply a little lipgloss. She didn’t want to look like she’d just slept the entire flight, because that’s exactly what she had done.

She probably screwed herself for adjusting to the time difference, awesome.

The restrooms had been just steps away from Costa, which was a way better choice than Starbucks. Belle ordered tea and then took a seat at a table for two. She wasn’t sure who else had arrived, and wanted to wait for Harry before she sent any messages saying they were there.

No one in the area of the coffee shop stood out, she took a sip of her tea and studied those nearby. It was easy to slip into agent mode and scrutinize people, and she forced that thought aside because this was a trip to have fun.

“Should we reveal ourselves to the others, if they’re here?” She asked Harry.

Tag: @HanSolo29 @Sinrebirth @darthbernael @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Harry
Heathrow Airport

The flight was grueling, but not due to any adverse circumstances—although, I suspected Belle’s anxiety prevented her from fully embracing the experience. It was more about the duration. Seven hours is a long time to be cooped up inside a pressurized chamber that could fall out of the sky or combust with a simple mechanical error. An object the size of a jetliner wasn't intended to remain suspended in the air. It was unnatural.

Human error was also a factor. What if the pilot had a hangover? Or he lost consciousness? What if he was merely tired and nodded off in the middle of calculating their trajectory—

And there I go off on a tangent.

In a sense, I guess I do understand Belle’s aversion to flying. It becomes obvious once you stop to truly think about it. So many things could go wrong. It was a gamble; you were at the whim of chance.

But that’s beside the point.

It was all about time.

In addition to the length, we also lost five hours in transit as a result of time zones. I wasn’t a fan of that. They call it jet lag. It’s a common term used frequently in various social circles, but I haven’t traveled often enough to experience it firsthand. In fact, I wish I was still oblivious to it. It was going to be difficult to acclimate myself to the new environment without any sleep—did I mention it was nearly impossible to get comfortable in such a confined space? You couldn’t recline your seat without the person behind you pitching a fit, nor could you stretch out your legs without stubbing your toe on the framework of the seat in front of you. It was a real conundrum.

I guess you could chalk that up to another disadvantage of flying.

But admittedly, it wasn’t even the worst aspect. All of my complaining about time zones, jet lag, and time—they all paled in comparison to the root cause of the entire situation. My current misery is a result of that one issue propagating the rest.

It was the trip itself—

—or rather, the fact that I dropped everything on a whim to fly out to London and meet someone I barely knew. Someone who didn’t exist in the physical world. For all I knew, he was a figment of my imagination; a specter who lived and breathed in cyberspace.

How do I know he wasn’t some dangerous convict? Someone who preyed on the gullible masses when they inevitably responded to his invitation to escape to an exotic location? Not that London is exotic, but I could certainly see the appeal after living my entire life in upstate New York. Nothing but hills and trees. I’m surprised I made it this far; a more ambitious man would’ve gone stir-crazy to endure the idyllic existence of small-town living for so long.

Maybe I preferred it that way.

I wanted to remain hidden, tucked away in the rustic simplicity of yesteryear. I felt more secure that way; as if I was on solid ground. You don’t have that in the big city, especially not in a huge metropolis like London.

In fact, I suspect the only reason I agreed to go on this trip was the careful prodding from Belle. She had that special kind of touch. Gentle, subtle… insistent. No matter how much I tried to resist, she always managed to persuade my stubborn mind. It was an art, really, especially for a woman to have such a strong influence over me. I was never sure how to react to that. Most of the time it made me nervous, much to my own chagrin. Nevertheless, I did enjoy her company. I felt more alive… at peace.

Yes.

That’s exactly why I decided to go.

Unfortunately, it was also a liability, and it came with… a price—a risk?

I worried for her safety. I wasn’t certain what we would find in London. It reminded me of some of the more complex cases I took on over the years; the ones that took some real brawn to crack. The ones that kept me up at night, staring blankly at the stuccoed patterns of my bedroom ceiling. While I usually embraced the challenge, it wasn’t the sort of thing I wanted to deal with on vacation. Particularly not with Belle in tow. Some may consider it an antiquated concept, but I felt responsible for her well-being.

Even as I navigated the disorderly mob that filled the airport’s main concourse, a lone travel bag slung casually over one shoulder, my eyes continued to scan the area. I was ever vigilant; always watching. I didn’t trust anyone.

I continued my surveillance until I finally spotted Belle seated outside of one of the busy coffee shops; supposedly the one that Sinrebirth designated for our rendezvous. I wasn’t familiar with the name. I never understood the obsession with brand loyalty among the elite crowd. As long as they brewed a good cup of coffee, what did I care about logos and trademarks?

However, it did raise the question—was there a significance to Sinre choosing this particular coffee shop for the meeting place?

It was a curious notion, one I kept tucked at the back of my mind as I approached the small table Belle had chosen.

As settled down across from her, allowing my travel bag to fall at my feet, she lifted her chin and said, "Should we reveal ourselves to the others, if they’re here?"

"I’m good for the moment," I replied quickly, exhaling softly through my nose as I took another cautious glance at our surroundings. "I’m actually curious about how they’ll approach. It may give us some insight into what this is all about."

My eyes found her face once more, my heart skipping a beat as I took in her contours.

Damn emotions.

Maybe it was the jet lag.

"You know how I feel about this. I don’t like it." I pursed my lips, suddenly feeling awkward. "It makes us vulnerable."

TAG: @Lady_Belligerent; @Sinrebirth; @Mitth_Fisto; @darthbernael

 

IC: Ryan

It was with a cheerful disposition that he greeted them each.

It had taken some time to get them all together.

As everyone was want to do, they had lives.

He'd sent missives in December 2022, and now it was July 2023.

But that was fairly standard. He saw a partner only once or twice a year, and so corralling his friends across multiple countries, well, that was impressive.

The UK, the Americas, Europe - the Western World was represented here and now.

He wore his face.

Well, the face of Ryan.

Inevitably they came together, that hesitant moment as if they were not entirely sure of the other, but they would recognize him, and he had artfully tricked them all into revealing their favorite beverage so he had them all to hand on the table when he stood, waved them over, and in turn warmly, thoroughly, and honestly and forthrightly, drew them into a hug.

They were his very best friends.

Each and everyone of them.

@Adalia-Durron, she was travelling from Australia and would meet them at a much later date. But that did happen, and Ryan did not wonder overtly.

He could hardly say what had become of the others, but he would not say, either.

Who knew.

If they did not reply to his kind offer, then he would not press them.

Privacy was a completely acceptable thing, and he knew some here today had been reluctant to make the trip.

That wasn't an affront to him, it was simply human nature.

As much as they had all been friends for years, decades, in some cases, for Ryan had been on the forums since November 2004 (before he even accepted his own sexuality, would you believe), there was something novel about separation of realities. One's online friends, they could be kept entirely, uniquely, independent of the trials and tribulations of offline life.

Ryan never distinguished between real life friends because reality was what you made of it.

He could discuss the concepts of value versus electronic toys in MMORPGs for hours, because the concept of real had its own concept.

If one attributed a value of ten British pounds to a super special sword in World of Warcraft, then it existed, no?

There was even a case where a Korean murdered someone who was asked to look after a super special sword and sold it on the Gray Market for Korean currency.

The case pivoted on whether said Korean could claim the act of theft could mitigate his prison sentence if the item was not real.

Could one claim provocation?

Yes, if he placed value on it?

No, because it was a digital sword?!

Ryan was tangenting even in his own mind, but it simply meant when he declared these people as his very best friends; he meant it.

They were incredibly important to him.

Small talk was a given, but he dolled out their beverages, and ignored the passerbys. They were in the middle of an airport, after all. People were busy, and only children stared at his grandstanding.

"Welcome one and all, and thank you, so, so, much for coming. I would have worn the Black Coat, but I didn't think airport security would appreciate it."

A dry chuckle.

"But nonetheless, I am masked, as Ryan, whereas you know me by one of my truer names; Sinrebirth."

He smiled warmly.

"So, welcome to England, again, for some of you," he caught the eye of Isobel, as they'd met offline here before. "And nice to meet you, if I have not." With Uzuriel, they had met during a trip to Europe.

"I am delighted you're here. I'll pass over the itinerary shortly," at that he tapped the red-backpack he had besides the table. "But for now, I get you've had a super long trip, so if you want to freshen up, chit-chat, or what not, I'm completely game."

"But we won't tarry too long, it took us months to get this far!"

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael, @Lady_Belligerent, @HanSolo29

OOC: You may respond as often or as little as you like by the 4th August 2023. I shall move us along thereafter.

Mention only for Adalia.

 

The Embrace

I want to embrace the broken toy
that is in a dark corner hurting.
I want to meet those who think differently
crowned by the virtue of respect.
I want to visit your reality
and try to dance to your favorite tune.
Because everything is possible
when we believe we are all connected.
Somehow the same.
Like roses in one plant
or feathers of a wing.
Like clouds that frolic around the same sky.
We are more similar than different;
we all live, love, lie, forgive or not and die
and in between we chase dreams
and sprout wings to reach the stars.
To all of those who want to heal with me,
visit my darkness.
I will be there waiting for you
and pointing at that place
where my light shines brightly.

— F. Garmendía



IC: Belle Barlowe
Heathrow, London UK

Isobel reached over and squeezed Harry’s hand saying, “try and relax, Harry. This is going to be so much fun!” She took a quick sip of her tea and glanced around Heathrow some. Herds of travelers were streaming in and out of the convenience stores, others were window shopping at the designer boutiques. She shook her head and realized she hadn’t let go of Harry’s hand.

Releasing her grip, she awkwardly patted his hand and laughed nervously, “would you like to pop over to Louis Vuitton and grab a new wallet for four times the regular retail price? It boggles my mind that people will pay more for something just because it’s in an airport shop.”

Her hands landed on the shoulder bag in her lap, it was a soft black calfskin Bottega Veneta that she’d bought during a recent bout of retail therapy. Opening it and applying lip balm gave her a moment to relax and to access those nearby.

She smiled when she spotted Ryan, “there he is!” Belle said to Harry, “let’s go!”

Belle dropped her bags and ran to hug Ryan tightly saying, “it’s so good to see you again!”

Remembering her friend, she stepped back and said, “Ryan, this is Harry, my recruit that I dragged into this madness. Harry, this is our fearless leader, Ryan.” She smiled at Harry and added, “he’ll say I bullied him into it, but don’t believe it, he is a willing participant.”

Tag: @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29

 

IC: Harry
Heathrow Airport

Everything happened so quickly… far too quickly for my liking. I was content to remain seated at the coffee shop, quietly debating the merits of consumer spending and what possessed people to practically throw away their money while they traveled. Especially on immaterial objects like wallets, purses, and designer glasses. In fact, Belle almost convinced me to wander over to the small boutique to investigate this phenomenon in person, but our host’s sudden arrival interrupted those plans.

Belle hurriedly rose from her chair and ran to meet the mysterious Sinrebirth, throwing her arms around him in a warm hug. I was slightly taken aback by this public display of affection, particularly since I wasn’t aware of a prior encounter between the two. At least, I couldn’t recall her ever telling me about such a rendezvous. Then again, was it really any of my business what she did before we formally met?

Either way, it brought a sinking feeling to the pit of my stomach; I was embarrassed and felt awkward standing there while they shared a private moment. At what point was my behavior comparable to a shameless voyeur gawking at an intimate affair?

I winced at that thought and swiftly diverted my gaze, intent on finding something else in the airport's crowd to occupy my mind.

Unfortunately, Belle wouldn’t grant me that reprieve; she drew me right back in with a hasty introduction.

"Ryan, this is Harry, my recruit that I dragged into this madness." She stepped back and lingered a moment, almost as if her gesture would compel me to reveal myself. "Harry, this is our fearless leader, Ryan."

"Hi," I managed a bit stiffly, a testament to my unease. While it helped to have Sinrebirth’s real name, I still wasn’t convinced that we had made the right decision to travel this far for a clandestine meeting.

Whether Belle sensed my agitation or not, she flashed an indulgent smile and continued, "he’ll say I bullied him into it, but don’t believe it, he is a willing participant."

I chuckled and shifted awkwardly on my feet, my hand instinctively clenching the shoulder strap of my travel bag. I almost felt betrayed by her comment, though I was able to maintain my composure and formulate a friendly quip… even if it wasn’t very witty or imaginative. I was never adept at that sort of thing.

"Ehh… it’s all her. She gives me too much credit."

TAG: @Lady_Belligerent; @Sinrebirth; @Mitth_Fisto; @darthbernael

 

IC: Uzuriel and Tracel
Heathrow, Costa Coffee

Seeing Ryan, Sinrebirth, the Master, whichever face he chose to wear walk up made me smile. I’d learned of his enjoyment of theatrics and, if anything, matching them was a fun pastime too. Reaching over, I had to put a hand on Tracel’s arm as she was already looking around, near him. “Nope, he’s by himself, little monkey.” got a slight frown from her and a chuckle from me.

“Pft…then it’s no fun, if it’s just me.” she replies snarkily.

“Well then you’re special, only kid here with us, if the others didn’t bring theirs.” I replied.

Another chuckle comes as I see the drinks Ryan brought to the table he chose to sit at. Looking around the coffee shop, I can see several people that have ones similar to what he picked up, harder with the standard size and shaped disposable cups.

Smiling at Tracel, I touched her arm as people began to drift up to Ryan, those who I’d supposed were the ones to be gathered. Downing the last of my mocha and making sure Tracel kept a careful grip on her smoothie bottle as she took the handle of her case, we began to make our way over to Ryan’s table.

Missing what the first two had said when they arrived there, we hung back a little, trying to make it seem we weren’t yet part of the group. When the third who’d approached spoke, I nodded, that fellow I knew from his writing and had to keep from chuckling as I wanted to ask if he’d found the six fingered man yet.

As silence crowded the table I finally approached, picking up the drink I’d seen Ryan had chosen, another mocha. Lifting it in salute, “Uzuriel here. And…I had to bring Tracel or there would have been mutiny at home. Hope no one minds.”

Beside me, Travel grinned and mugged, almost spilling her smoothie as she dropped it on the table. Letting go of her case, she more into sight of the three who had joined Ryan, “Hiya!!!” she chirped, waving at them. Turning to Ryan, she stuck out her tongue slightly, “Meanie, not bringing mijn vreindjes…”

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @Mitth_Fisto, @Lady_Belligerent, @HanSolo29

 

IC: Ryan
Costa Coffee

His introductory speech had been interrupted, but in the very best way.

Belle was the best, “It’s so good to see you again!”

The hug was enough to nearly bowel him over, drinks and all, but he stabilized himself and returned a ferocious hug. His children and her eldest had met, many moons ago now, a lifetime ago in some ways.

His smile would have turned maudlin had the other not been introduced.

"Ryan, this is Harry, my recruit that I dragged into this madness. Harry, this is our fearless leader, Ryan."

"Hi,"

"He’ll say I bullied him into it, but don’t believe it, he is a willing participant."

"Ehh… it’s all her. She gives me too much credit."

The one, two was indicative of Harry's nervousness, but that was fairly normal. But at least he had Belle. Ryan nonetheless resorted to a hug. It was always easier to just hug it out. Commonality won out over awkwardness for Ryan every single time. In another reality, he might have been an extrovert.

And one of them had travelled without even a Belle as a ward and cheerleader. He turned to them, sketched a salute.

"So this is actually happening? Eh?" Randy being the master of the understatement when he was so eloquent by keyboard amused Ryan. "Apparently so. I mean I did pay for you to come." He patted Randy on the shoulder as he rounded the table, depositing another drink. He was hardly going to take a photo of the guy and post it up. Though he would like photos of their visit, he knew better than to press it and respected that. It didn't stop Randy from being pretty open. Others he'd met traversing online had kept everything hidden, for many years, which of course was one's right, but Ryan himself needed a bit more than just that personally.

But as a former closeted man, no surprises.

An older but no less sincere gentleman rounded out the group, but he had a child with him.

“Meanie, not bringing mijn vreindjes…” Ryan grinned at Uzuriel as he drew him into a hug. "I never said I was bringing the kids." There was a certain tightness to Ryan's expression, but he was sure to order for Tracel a child-friendly drink. He frantically checked his memory. Had he intended to bring the kids?

No. He would never have done that.

Absently Ryan wondered what Uzuriel was up to, but he warmed to the idea.

"But yes, here we are. I am really, really grateful."

He let them all sit, eyed the child and hoped Tracel would be suitably distracted by a device for the moment.

"So. I thought I should tell you the truth about the games, and the boards, and the identity of the Master of Masters in person. It's rather momentous. Originally I'd intended to show you in Episode XII, but this works much better. It's a secret, so if I tell you in person, you can't duplicate it even if you would, which of course I know, you wouldn't."

A screenshot of a message, a voice-note forwarded on, none of that could happen. A telephone call could be recorded. A FaceTime call too.

A rather elaborate way to ensure a game secret was kept so.

"I'm rather excited, but I appreciate that maybe you want to rest up, or shower, and we have the hotel I've provisioned all to ourselves, after all, so we will have our little chit-chat, and then head to the limousines I've arranged, yes?" He smiled, so broadly it could be considered infectious.

"Then we'll meet up, say, at 8pm GMT?" He eyed Tracel. Surely they'd be asleep by then. Jetlag, too. But it was in a few hours time so the Americans could perhaps nap too.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @HanSolo29, @darthbernael, @Lady_Belligerent (singles, combo opportunity shortly)