Title: Faction Scramble
Author: Greer Watson
Time: about midnight, Sunday, 26 January 2014
Location: another plane

Every so often, a game takes place. It is a game with stakes--though one can never be quite sure what they are. *What* game varies. This time, as it turns out, it was scrabble.

They entered. All was ready: the board on the table, the pieces neatly turned upside down. There was, of course, no dictionary. They needed none. Not that an independent arbiter might not claim misspelling or invention; but there was no referee (not for *this* game), and any challenges would always be decided in *one* side's favour. The other side knew this in advance, of course, but came and played anyway. The stakes were *that* high--or could be.

This time they played for Forever Knight. The pieces therefore had meaning and significance quite apart from the letters on the front, though only one of the players truly cared.

The Powers That Be chose first, as always. It took its time.

Perforce, The Powers That Bain't (No More) waited its turn.

The game had begun.

***

Some time later, TPTB called for a break. (It was not a bathroom break. Neither TPTB nor TPTBn't(NM) needs such a thing. For one thing, they don't drink coffee. Also such matters are of the flesh; and we are talking higher powers here. Or, if not higher, certainly elser. Their anatomy can only be described as dubious, at best.)

The score was, as always, rather higher for TPTB. This surprised neither of them--and yet, TBTBn't(NM) always participated, when called to play. The stakes were *that* high--or could be.

Since the rules forbade sitting perusing the board during a break, it decided to go out on the balcony (or what passed as a balcony in that place) and have a look at the view. Today, it was a glorious blue sky with wispy clouds gilded beneath by a golden sun. As TPTBn't(NM) watched, it set lower and lower, though never sinking below the horizon, for there was none. It was a sight to soothe the soul. (TPTBn't(NM) liked to imagine itself having a soul, though--like all of us--it doubted whether TPTB had one.)

A brazen klaxon shattered both the silence and TPTBn't(NM)'s nerve. It went back inside.

As it approached the scrabble board, its glance took in immediately that a word had been added in its absence. Out of turn, of course. It thought to protest (though to whom it couldn't tell); but one look at the stony face of TPTB showed it how pointless *that* would be.

In any game with TPTB, one of the rules is that there are no rules. Except, perhaps, the rule that *you* will lose.

TPTBn't(NM) checked the pieces that remained to be played. Unlike its opponent, it checked them back and front.

***

The game continued.

***

Some time later, TPTBn't(NM) called for a break. The score was, by this time, so far in the other side's favour that it might actually have thought to concede the game--if the rules permitted it. However, TPTB always preferred to rub one's nose in it.

So, with a shuddering glance at the letters in front of it, TPTBn't(NM) asked for a break. And TPTB graciously agreed.

It rose, looming over TPTBn't(NM).

The other shrank a little--outside, if not in--but knew the rules required that it, too, rise from the scrabble board. It rose, clumsy in its haste not to lose points for tardiness. A foot caught the leg of the table, it tripped and landed on TPTB, and both crashed across the board.

Pieces went flying.

After the shock passed, TPTB and TPTBn't(NM) each rose. The former said simply, "Tidy it all up." The latter nodded, miserably.

It looked at the board: some pieces remained in situ. Others had fallen on the floor.

Some were rightside up; some t'other way round.

The game was well and truly scrambled.

***

The pieces had meaning and significance quite apart from the letters on the front. As they fell, helter skelter, more than just one game got scrambled.

In Toronto, where Forever Knight fans had gathered for a simple commemoration, faction with faction, there was--a scrambling of scrabble pieces. So to speak.

Some pieces remained on the board. Some--did not.

Sunday night, all went to bed knowing who and where and what they were. When Monday dawned, some woke--scrambled.

***

Until TPTBn't(NM) succeeds in picking up all the scrabble pieces and putting them back on the board in their right places, there will be some Forever Knight fans who are certain that they belong to a different faction from the one that they originally came to play with.

They will not otherwise lose their memories: who they are, and why they've come to Toronto, and what's been going on in the past couple of days. They just think they belong to a different faction.

Graphics and layout copyright © Greer Watson 2014.