Fodder for the imagination... all of it (Personal Photo) |
But even cast iron souls can crack.
It was on Halloween when I felt my first true, metallic pang of homesickness, like when you bite your cheek while chewing bubble gum. Every year, my friends throw a cozy Halloween bash, a night of candy and Catan, of silliness and Star Wars—of good times, games, and overall geekiness. This year, I was an ocean away from the festivities, and the geek in me longed to join them. There isn’t a huge gaming community here in Nice (to my knowledge). My allusions fall on deaf ears (“One does not simply apply for a Carte de Sejour” ; "Brace yourselves: Paperwork is coming."). I also long for our Wednesday roleplaying nights, a summer evening of fellowship:
Another cure for homesickness -- a shelf of my favourite souvenirs, colourful and fantastical... beware the Amsterdragon in all its purple glory (Personal Photo) |
There’s
a certain magic in the air that makes you lick your lips in
anticipation of what’s going to happen—or, rather, in
anticipation of what might happen. No future is certain, fate
often being subject to the whim of the Dungeon Master (the DM) or the
roll of a twenty-sided die. In one breath, they are players speaking
a language of dice and strategy, and in the next, they are characters
conversing with the other members of their party. An elven sorceress
flutters her eyes at a human paladin while a dwarvern warrior
complains about a lack of ale. Occasionally, the DM intervenes as an
NPC (non-playable character) or spins a twist to the ever-evolving
tale. For a few hours, these friends can escape to a different world.
And then they part ways and blend back into normalcy.
Or a night wandering the Christmas markets (Personal Photo) |
As close as I'm going to come to a Christmas tree (Personal Photo) |
I’m not going to be coming home for
Christmas, so I’m going to have to wait until June to rejoin my
gaming besties back in Canada: Skyping our sessions simply isn’t
possible (perhaps when DiceMaster gets up and running). In the interim, I’ve been using writing as an output for
my creative energy.
À la prochaine fois!
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