An Introduction

I would imagine him always to be dapper gentleman in black cloth cut to calmness and precision. He would stand there, overlooking nothingness as if lord and master of all that I could not yet see, and even if I did, that would only be a drop in the ocean of everything that could and might be but yet isn't. It's a rambling monotony, this voice I've allowed to employ, but indulge me. I dare say ordinary language, no matter how pleasant, would never be able to fully tell the truth of the void.

I'm not afraid of oblivion, and neither should you. Oblivion isn't the end of all things, it's simply the source of them. Like static on your television, oblivion is merely that which is waiting to take on imagery. So, let's start with that, with nothingness.

"Sigil," he would say, his voice the depth of morose songs, "I see you've come to me yourself."

And he would turn towards me, showing me the face I would expect to see. For now, let's say David Bowie had taken on his role and blessed him with the same charm that captivated the whole of the eighties. I wasn't around for that, but I like New Wave and I do find it charming.

"I'm flattered, Sigil."

Hello, Necron.

I pretend to be affectionate, abbreviating his name. In truth, I had only met him recently as he is now. His original doesn't belong to my imagination, but I thought him truthful.

"Again, I am flattered, sigil."

I came to him now, as I am and not through proxy, because the deeper I go into what I want to do the more I realize the selfishness of what I want. I'm sure you understand, Necron. Although it unsettles me to admit, it has to be said. It's not much putting my best foot forward as it is caveat emptor.

"Would it be easier if I were to explain?"

Yes, much easier. Embarrassment is softer when someone else points it out. I think."

"Very well."

"When first, your author, came to me it had been by proxy. His original plan was to abstract himself from what he really wanted. He was under the impression that to create such detachment would be enough to lend an air of professionalism and seriousness to the fantasy he desired for himself. In the end, it was just plain fan fiction and though there's nothing wrong with sincere fan fiction-his pretension was that he could turn his escape into serious literature. No, of course not. Gratuitous is as gratuitous does. Still, it does surprise me that you've actually mustered the courage to come to me yourself, sigil."

"Now, he is here, not through constructs the figments of his imagination, but as himself. Sigil, you no my name already, but what is yours?"

Teh_Az

"Ah, a pen name. Not as brave as I thought, but that'll do for now."

I came to you not with proxies to indulge my fantasies but with honesty. I think that brave enough.

"Very well, as you say."

He regards me for a moment, his eyes piercing through me, digging through my memories and my obsessions. He already knows that I am a slave to impulse and that I come to him with one desire.

I am not a fearless creature, and as a result of my fear my weaknesses are quite apparent. My weakness is the desire to always win, to dominate and conquer, and to own everything that I see. My desire is the recourse to otherworldly things with the expectation and hope that such things would grant me advantage over the real world. Of course, none of that is true. That, in part, is what induced me to give up constructs in the first place. I already know the meaninglessness of what I seek and yet I must pursue it. If I don't, I will go mad.

My fear is failure, moreso than I fear death. Necronomicon knows this. I wish that in doing this, I might rid myself of my weaknesses by having them all travel here instead. I wish it will work.

"I can offer you much of the first, but none of the latter. Any good that might come of this, I will not promise. That is not what I do. Would you like to begin? You have a midterm tomorrow, are you sure you want to do this now?"

Piece by piece, yes. I want this done and out of the way as soon as possible. If I can do this, I can at least rest easier and have each of my affectations given their proper place, their proper rooms in my head.

"Just so. Alright, let us begin."

"I offer you Pathfinder."

"I offer you the Iron Kingdoms."

"I offer you Ops & Tactics."

"I offer you Eclipse Phase."

"I offer you Mouseguard."

"I offer you Microlite20."

"I offer you Dark Heresy."

"I offer you D20 Modern."

"I offer you Shadowrun."

"I offer you FF20."

"Or, best yet, we could progress your adaptation of William Blake's mythology."

"What would you like to play, sigil?"

I want to dominate a fantasy setting by transplanting a character from Eclipse Phase to brutalize the idyllic new world, one inspired more by Japanese exoticism of European myths than of High Magic or Sword and Sorcery. There's plenty of that present, I'm sure, but I just want to drive in the point: superior force.

"Well, you could try, but don't be surprised if the natives prove difficult."

I'm more than prepared for it.

"This won't be just an escape, sigil. When the new world takes notice of your pollution, it will adjust accordingly. Be very careful what you wish for. Caveat emptor, sigil."

I am warned.