Playing with Swords: A Cryptic Mystery

  You can call me Alex: that's what the host would call me. I assume I've been brought in to recount what took place during the recent party at the games and sports lodge, on the last day of April. I could be jumping to conclusions, but I like to think I know a bit more than most of the others, due to being near most of the action. Though I prepared my statement, you'll find I have some trouble communicating: I'm influenced by the remarkable work of Torquemada and I'm fond of that mansion of Manson. While I may appear to ramble, I hope you'll understand that I choose my words very carefully and that everything I reveal has at least one purpose behind it.

Now, from our Clue playing, I knew my opponent enjoys a principled opening. I heard an echo from someone outside who was preparing to drive, then the clear sound of a hit. As I considered opening a quiz book, a white ball smashed through a nearby window and shattered a vase of Lefou. Our ref couldn't keep that under wraps for a second. Axel was already in hot water.

Dr. Ax, we called him: we joked it could be his tool of choice. But this was no time for explanations: watch the tightrope He tautens; the juggler attunes, but as he headed out west, his foot became unwell and threw him down. This display of game had become discontinued. I would pinpoint the culprit later. As for my opponent, I began to suspect foul play - perhaps, when I had glanced at the vase?

It was as if the room had been rocking back and forth a lot. Southwest was not how she planned to travel, unless it was a round trip. When we first sat down, I crowed, "Is kissing allowed?" She immediately sought to erase those suspicions and asserted, "No, including at the corners, despite what our host might suggest." I was beginning to think our host was blind.

Eve's been playing Twister but now moved on to something else. Steven accidentally dropped a tea towel by the pool table while observing from the tiles a single three-pointer shot, which did not go in. Sean, the doctor's green assistant, came up to us and made conversation, then left with his med kit. She asked me what I thought of his role given his occupation, and I responded, "Somewhat riveting," taking careful note of his casual tee and denim pants. She could see in what sense I meant that.

She's one of Jason's three sisters. May I presume she was considering her words, "You know how Americans are on dates: they always ask for the name before the number." She signed and sealed the letter in my envelope. I was about to ask for her number when the G.I. fell into shambles by the pool table under the weight of his losing move. Perhaps, had he chosen a slightly different angle with his stick, things would've turned out differently.

Eve's come back sporting an apple, how lucky. A hand reaches from out of frame calling her name, but she can't hear it. Adam was the only other person around at the time, but he had yet to notice the very real danger. When she quickly convinced him, Adam also tried the apple that Eve had bitten, and nature groaned again. Everyone else claims to have missed it, as even I did, of course, but I wonder if our host watched it happen.

We were volleying, but I present the events as though she called all the shots; what could I have done, anyway? It was spiked from across the court and then served back, met with ready arms. "She took the bait," I heard faintly over a hit song from the B52's dialed up to eleven. The successful self-starter was listening. As I observed, the producer of what was added to my drink consumed some heated beignets while also evaluating the big shot.

Cait claimed to have helped convey the order as a middleman from within a sea of field polo players. What B.S., a sea implies "water" over "field"! Nevertheless, I jot that the apple of his eye was asked out by Jay. Do you want me to just use short words and tell the whole truth and enunciate and show that the first guest was off the walls? These poor homophones are deer to me, as am I under sudden shock.

When I searched for excerpts from the guide (I should not have thrown away one of the letters), my opponent suddenly told me to turn around. In my mind is a vessel, by which I mean a means of transportation by water. A related container, as is testament to my broken mind, is the answer to a well-known riddle. What gets wetter the more it tries? Due to bubbly speech by the soldier, a word was taken back by Ned, and a pattern was established on that date.

Finally recovered from seeing what few do, I managed to comprehend the whereabouts of Joe. Gee, to think I could've helped, it makes me feel responsible. Things quieted down significantly after the news spread. Some e-sports professionals from Europe stopped practicing again. Aggravated, Reggie exaggerated: "Peggy rigged Boggle."

Cait offered a round for many of us on the house; she asked me for my thoughts first. Inchoate, inchoate. I asked for lots of honey with my order; I should improve my accuracy. Still at our table, she said, "And for you, miss?" To be complete, the others who initially ordered were her, Oscar, Ned, and Eve.

Just to help Reggie, Eve effectively began explaining, as straightforwardly as possible, the acronyms in the pamphlet for the game they were trying to learn how to play. Jay, there strangely not to play, continued to find difficulty fitting in, meandering aimlessly as though he was waiting for something to come to him. Someone handed him a badminton birdie and suggested he might have better luck outside, just honor everyone, but he replied that he didn't want to get any part of himself dirty. His sleek tux, mint-condition navy jeans, and cleanly worn dress shoes elicited the response, "Alright, suit yourself." He ran an honest business and I was glad to see that he hadn't changed since I first met him.

During the wait, it was revealed that my opponent's older sister would be arriving later in the night after persevering through a long and eventful march. She was in charge of bringing signs and supplies: it was somewhat similar to operations during her career as a postal worker. My thoughts on her involvements are irrelevant: swing-state politics isn't down my corridor. (I, for the sake of clarity, try to refrain from malapropisms, but sometimes it's perfect to convey the extent of my understanding. I like to imagine we would all have difficulty killing our darlings, in spite of if our style interferes with understanding the bigger picture.)

The drinks arrived that second: on the tray were a thing each of whiskey, cider, and tea, with a couple of Fever Trees (not the most popular type) interspersed. We were served first; my opponent removed the toothpick umbrella and lemon slice from her glass of tonic and began fidgeting with the pick over her napkin. The waitress, talking a bit too quickly, followed with, "May I remind you of our side options? We have apple fritters, rice and beans." Close by, Oscar suggested Jason could do a comic dance in a busy area, to which Jason replied he would need a partner for it.

It was the perfect diversion: not only did I forget the political group that someone I knew left at the start of the decade, but I failed to catch what my opponent said about side options. The pick was collected and brushed against my left arm accidentally on its way from the table. I overheard some gooey language directed to someone navigating a menu in a computer game. Since it used a language he didn't know, he muttered something about romanization and searched for the applicable part of a guide, ignoring the expression to the right. As the activist barged in, Jay said in a higher tone than usual and with some unintentional fumbles, "Sue? Are you serious?"

He would prefer she kept the fighting to the streets, so they checked their words and kept their secrets. Broadsides from many years ago remained fresh in our minds! Wholehearted dismissal offsets revenge. The gardener briefly greeted her as well to show solidarity. He must have expected there to be a later place and time to reveal his latest arrangement to her.

She found our table and took a seat instantly to hesitatingly tell us she needed something more than the bathroom sink. How she weighed displaying a comb. I straightforwardly informed her of the guest house nearby. My opponent gave her a side quest as though it was the tenth of the third, when truly it was the equinox. I said the request reminded me of a story; I claim it's about June bugs though they're adamant it's about sea tenacity, if I may layer how they speak.

Her food finally came out on top of a red-and-white checkered blanket-padded basket fit for a queen. It seemed she had ordered everything at that point. When asked for the basket, she carefully slid the blanket of food out onto the table and said, "Done," helpfully providing the expected response. When asked for advice, she began, "Daisies offer never-ending enjoyment," wondering if someone would be mistaken for the recipient. Is it wrong to condone superfluity?

"I'll see to it, miss!" That was all I needed to hear. To project work plans - in the center of the group - makes them hard to ignore. Martin trailed behind the host at a safe distance as though on some slack hidden tether, ready to serve him should the need arise. He did claim once that he was giving him breadcrumbs.

A fresher fret couldn't be left unrevealed; be free to interpret it how you like. He should've helped the basket holder evade by keeping her on the sidelines. Upon learning of the activist's errand, he nearly swooned as though somnifacient mofettes had opened up. He returned to the study to find a messenger. Bet her confusion matched his.

The aforementioned messenger retraced steps for a foray like the guru of a follower. Not like a janissary; oh, how the febrifuge mars my sensibility. He was given a length of rope but nothing to tie it around. The forecast came sooner than anticipated. Could he have been quicker?

Oscar finished playing golf and bogged down the first glass of a flight of five, doubling over as though the shot of rum had hit him. The rum was red; hearing of this, Violet concluded in a genuine tone that we ought to worry about intentions. Ned had not gotten back to the poor gent about a magnetic substance. I suppose not every question needs to be answered. The duality of the tenet began to grow on me.

Sound effects came from the unromanized game. Oftentimes someone wouldn't begin because one thing was lost. A whittled tee was buried like two feet down between futon cushions. At least the amount of holes in the board couldn't change. I opened a menu.

My opponent asked if I had eaten, which I had. She exposed the contents of a packet of sweetener and (I think) pretended to share them. I feel like a callow teen trying to decide what the gesture meant. Eve inspected a lopsided antenna and made it level by ironing out the center while keeping a crucial component fixed. Her friend was starting to piece together a large puzzle.

Peggy adjusted her bow and found time at last to tend to a dent. The messenger returned with a bit of terror in his eyes. "Don't even..." he edged, clearly trying to banish a sequence of events to the corners of his mind. He left something behind: perhaps he lost at tug of war. At this moment I presumed he felt close to her.

Nonetheless, the messenger took on a stern expression. When he was ready, he privately confessed what transpired to the investigator, but he was too late. By now she had probably gotten to the bottom of it. A woman associated with the businessman had a bit of teriyaki. I said I knew my opponent would try to order then.

"No thanks, I ate," she said. We took a quick break from the game to give our attention to the Italian hero. She set down the snack she was working on (the chef's special) and told me with wavering confidence that she served within the HQMC in a middle rung. I asked her for advice because I expected my predicament to be in her wheelhouse. Then, my opponent asked her if she was friends with Joe, given how he was probably looking in her direction from afar earlier.

It was as if she took a hit to the heart. At first she was speechless, and we turned to look at something outside, which was to my seven o'clock. "No, I never knew him, but I was aware there were many people like him. Joe initially struck me as a survivor, and I respect that more than you could imagine. But there were a number of things that happened in the moment."

Looking upward a bit, she continued, "I could count them all, and what isn't odd? Sure, my name and sin conflate, but the music was drowning everything out and I was looking away from the danger. I still can't believe I missed what was important at the time, given how important it was. Since this event hasn't been ended by that, I hope to get the chance to redeem myself later." We looked back to the table and my opponent had already decided on another move, though I could tell from the look in her eyes that she decided without thinking it through.

The businessman wrapped up his meal and nonchalantly announced, "If anyone needs to meet with me, I'll be perched on the balcony having a smoke to the sunset," then passed people dancing the jig. Angler Violet, not blue at all, displayed her fishnets and spoke as though quoting a book, "Am I erring in my distaste for a strong cup of joe that ought to be watered down," then blushed with embarrassment as Cait brought the coffee back to the kitchen. A familiar face shot back to her, "Madam, I'm investigating." Nearby, Martin told Steven, the chef, in passing to watch out for a sand trap on the rough. Coming to our table, Jason started, "It's been how many months since the four of us have been together..."

"Ned, discreetly like some ninja, told me June brought this in instead for you." I knew him as the sort of man to hide peacefully in the background and expected him to live on. Like the hero who had just decided to walk away from us to use the bathroom, my opponent's jauntiness seemed half-depleted and she grimaced as though there was a pit in her stomach. She wanted a daisy and received a purple hyacinth; the deliverer may as well admit a rue. It seemed she was missing someone.

A bit later, a sister told her, "Eve has fallen upon the lodge." As if I had to guess the method; could I count on the source to provide a lead? The reverend must've misspoke, say ladies associated with the businessman. I wondered how he was feeling; he may have been unsteady despite benefitting from the foundational pillars that supported him. For juxtaposition, the heart of the earliest group to hear was overtaken by the heart of the rest. 

Ned threw out to us how he wished to return to Lebanon, but before the last sound could escape his jaw, our host hushed him. "We dare not raise that subject here," he uttered, pale as a skeleton. This caught Kelly's eye. To think, at his office he was a total pushover... had I gotten him mixed up again with someone else I knew, or was he remembering some enigma from the past? He skimmed his hundred-page rulebook haphazardly, nearly splitting its spine, muttering, "You know I barely understand anything in this."

Our host turned to me inquisitively, expecting me to be an expert. In what world would I be a fencer? I've been studying swordplay, but I'm terrible with swords... that must be the foible? Nearby, the investigator finished his chess game against Martin in style: Ka2#. Managing to control himself despite his ecstasy, he grabbed a spoon and hit it against his translucent glass to get everyone's attention: "A toast to the perfect combination in finishing off!"

Suddenly, he forced a loop recorder out from his pocket; from the look in his opponent's eyes I could tell it contained something explosive. Everyone nearby could see, for he had just toasted, and many would be able to hear it. "Alright," said the latter, "I yield, but you must be aware I can't give you a straight answer. Who do you think holds the most power here?" With an epiphany, he withheld the evidence and fled at the speed of light.

Where should I pan to the nicest expression? If there's any beef I've missed since the strange fib of Eve leaving out the entrance, it's been replaced by a mutual feeling comparable to Jason and Oscar's earlier performance. The investigator recruited a sidekick and their chemistry reminded me of Breaking Bad. One hobbled to the toolshed by the front porch as the other raced upstairs. The businessman must've expected breakage as he turned away from the glaring sun to try and clear his name against the ghosts, one of which was coming back to haunt him.

It would begin to make sense if I too could've heard the whole conversation. The bearer of quite the patterned tie, who it unjustifiably belonged to, was nearly boxed into a corner. The one who was found to be third-closest after a smashing display of wit said he heard the doctor saw something important. "-ou have to trust that I'm right-" was brought into the loop recorder. Adam decided to tape the man's mouth for as long as he could.

Oscar studied a banyan I retained in another state. Out of ire, the doctor, not acknowledging the patient, decided to provide his signature. Steven told Milton to avoid the plot of land tied up in tape; when asked for a reason, he said, "I just play all the time and am fortunate enough to get paid for it." There were some sharp, groundbreaking notions. For June, Ned said, "Thy ear," and presented her a ruby earring found lost inside. 

Her answer, "Cuando estés en Roma," was understandable despite being 40% complete. June was only wearing one earring.

My opponent exclaimed, "I won!" Peg went up to sit on the roof for the fifth and final time; her red markers had always intimidated me because she had always had more than me. I considered it mercifully cruel that she wasted a moment, but it was almost poetic how closely our game mirrored what happened around us. As if on cue, we heard a loud crash from the front door and she dragged me quickly to the front room where we joined the rest of the crowd that had gathered. The balcony had sunk and collapsed.

Thankfully, the investigator managed to survive, having stood in the doorframe, but the other two weren't so lucky. How quickly we forget our heroes; how quickly they fade into the sea of irrelevance. He trusted me with the evidence, so I have been writing feverishly on these pages to fill in the blanks for him. I've obfuscated both out of recent habit and in case I find myself to be a target. I can't let them know how much I know until I can guarantee my safety. Until then, please don't let me sin\