In spite of a torrential downpour of snow in lieu of icy conditions, I managed to make the fateful sojourn down to the Gaylord Hotel (auspicious name, huh?) in National Harbor of Maryland. Another anime convention was in mind, known to me as Katsucon. Katsucon came and went in passing of a weekends stay, a long anticipated event that had been on my mind since the mid-summer. It satisfied and intrigued, both in place and the wonderful people I happened to meet along the way. This was the first time I ever managed to partake in such an event, though I've heard tales of its appeal since a little over a year ago. I just never had the time due to my precarious schedule at school and internships, but hey. I made it, and it was an experience I got to enjoy to its fullest.
As mentioned, the heavy snowfalls on Wednesday to Thursday night blanketing Maryland made it look like I'd have to opt out prematurely, nothing short of divine intervention. Calls were bounced back and forth between a friend (Mike) and I on whether we'd be able to make the trip at all, and it wasn't until early afternoon Friday that the plow-trucks showed up to clear some of the roads. In spite of their services, there was plenty of residual snow and ice clinging to the roads to pose a hazard. I ended up loading the trunk of my car with boxes of my old high school and college text books for increased traction, and made off for National Harbor with what luggage I had packed.
As far as anime conventions go, it came off as any typical sort of con. A three day get-together with fellow anime enthusiasts in a posh environment, being a hotel rather than a convention center. The Gaylord had a nice little miniature “village” environment in the courtyard that was reminiscent of an 1800's main-street, complete with fabricated cobblestone streets, solid-steel lamp posts, a few small shops masquerading as homes, all surrounding an enclosure that supported a burgeoning fountain and stream. It was all picturesque, and was the perfect place for a photo-shoot, along with casual conversation over a drink. What I do remember the most about the early beginnings was waiting in an insanely long line, the likes of which looped in an infinite succession around an absolutely massive room. It was pure chaos, and no one could be sure which line was which. Ironically, the pre-registration line was at least three times larger than the regular line, which looked more and more tempting the longer it took to get our badges.
Couldn't resist making a bit of an ass out of myself any and every chance I got. Around the elevators, I'd raise my arm and make a carrion call in costume, stating loudly “The evacuation process has already begun. Now, I can't save all of you, but I promise I'll do my best to save -some- of you before the aliens get here. To the escape pods!” Shenanigans only picked up when I'd approach cosplayers at random with the esteemed pleasure of joining me on my wasteland adventures throughout the Capital Wasteland, whenever I wasn't just taking in the sights and sounds offered to me by the few panels I stepped into. Mostly, it was trips walking down the long aisles of the artists alley and Merchants Hall. My Pipboy 3000 provided plenty of elevator music in the otherwise silent elevators, though it kept people turning their heads as they tried to determine the source of the swing-band tunes.
As far as costumes and cosplay goes, things were perfectly diverse. The appeal in novelty lie in the beautiful array of costumes set against the opulent veneer of the spacious hotel grounds, inside and out. Too bad I left my camera at home; I thought I'd slipped it away in my back pack, but it turns out I left it behind as I rushed out the door Friday morning. All pictures I managed to take were from my iphone 5, which sports a decent enough internalized camera, but lacks the clear-quality of the Canon Powershot. Going beyond that, my usual antics that had originated at Anime Boston persisted, which involved loosely getting into character as I tried to recruit people for my perpetual war against the enigmatic Enclave.
Some costumes and experiences that stood out in my mind were a few good Rorschach's (Watchmen,) not just in look and appearance but also in character. In spite of my best attempts at recruiting him, he stated that I had to find my own path, and that “justice could not be bought.” A STALKER of the Clear-Sky faction (STALKER: Clear Sky,) bearing the respective faction-patch; I saluted him while clad in my STALKER gear, but couldn't get his picture. Something of a surprise came in the form of Ryoko (Tenchi Muyo,) who carried the look of the character rather well. To the point she daintily drank from what looked suspiciously like a sake bottle like it were “tea.” When I took her up on that, she stated rather matter-of-factly “Oh no, I would -never- drink alcohol in public. Only bad people do that.” (It was definitely water, though.) There was Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield, who agreed to join my crew of missmatched heroes and anti-heroes, though Chris fully admitted on lacking a gun to fight “The Enclave” or the feral ghouls that lived in the Capital Wasteland. Interestingly, towards Sunday, I met a few fursuiters; one was a dog who wore a tag line by the name of “Doggy Style,” and the other was who I -thought- was supposed to be Miyu from the canceled Star Fox 2 game.
I ran briefly with an entire group of Bioshock enthusiasts, who numbered six in all (seven, if you include my brief run.) Among them, I'd managed to recruit Booker Dewitt, in spite of a down-played protest from Elizabeth. His demands to be a part of my crew? A helping of beer, whiskey, rum, vodka, and tequila. As Elizabeth tried to steer him down the path back to Columbia, stating that he would only find ruin and decay going with me (closer to the truth than I'd care to admit,) Dewitt grew irate. 'Because that worked SOOOOOO well for me in the end with you, right?' The exchange was laughable, and so I looked to the others of the group. Doctor Steinman of the medical wing in Rapture, coupled with a deranged butcher wielding a cleaver and a mini whale. Then there was the two versions of Sander Cohen; one from Burial at Sea, and the other from Bioshock's Rapture. In spite of several attempts to win him over to a trip to the Capital Wasteland, he expressed doubt that the Capital Wasteland would be a place conducive to his artistic temperament. He did hesitate at mention of a gold-platinum Pipboy, though, encrusted in diamonds and rubies. Doc Steinman expressed an interest in taking me on under his care to solve my perceived radiation poisoning and other ailments, but then was fixated on the symmetry of my face. And the butcher working in Fontaine Fisheries several times slashed at me with her sizable cleaver. So yeah, was fun running with them.
I had the esteemed privilege of recruiting Vash the Stampede sometime Friday, and I can't say it was easy. He was nearly attacked by a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter who seemed intent on reaping the rewards of his bounty, and expressed nothing but doubt as I told him about the system of caps and currency in the wasteland. So, then I asked what he wanted in return for his dutiful service as my companion. He stated he wanted donuts, and lots of them. So I made him an offer; I stated I could probably convince Amata to let me back into Vault 101 (or I could hack the door code and break in somehow,) gain access to the ovens in the kitchen-diner, and bake him some donuts. Either that, or we'd have to go the messier way; I'd have to look for pre-war flour and, admitting that sugar was absolutely scarce, likely resort to the use of sugar-bombs for sugar content. Then we'd have to jury-rig an oven, and hope it functions about the same way it would have during the pre-war era. “These'll be some of the -best- donuts you'd ever have! With a cinnamony texture and flavor from the sugar bombs, I guarantee you'll get hooked.” Then we shook on it, and he joined my cadre of troops, just like that. Although, he did interject and put a hard line question on in asking, “Wait wait wait, are you -my- companion, or am I -your- companion.” I answered the latter, and Vash's shoulders sagged as he let out a long, hard sigh.
From then on, Vash showed himself as being a bit of an over-protective companion. Every time I tried to recruit someone, he'd seemingly be there, forcibly asking “So how many people have you been recruiting since I've been gone? What, am I not good enough!?” I tried talking Mordecai and Rigby off Regular Show to join me on my wasteland adventures, and tried every likely angle. I told Mordecai a trip to the wasteland would be just what he needed to win his love-bird Margaret over, and prove to her he's as tough and dashing as they come. I told them they didn't have much to gain under the authoritarian slave-driver Benson, but with me, they'd have just about everything their hearts could desire (radiation poisoning included.) Though, I also told them both that there'd be dangers and hazards in the form of bullets, explosions, plasma, lasers, and deathclaws. As Mordecai continued showing hesitation in light of this, I stated, “Sure, there'll be explosions out there. Just imagine them as fire-works, a little closer to the ground than usual. Just, whatever you do, don't go towards them.” Then Rigby's eyes got really big and he went on to say “I like fireworks. :3” Vash quickly came by to add his disapproval in my recruiting an army when I had him, and the two declined my offer. Thanks Vash.
I remember talking with someone in a hall way, and seeing Vash steadily approaching from the opposite hallway. And, without a place to hide, I stood off to the side a bit, and put my hands over my eyes like a raccoon might. I could never say what my sneak skill, but it was high enough that most people in the Fallout Universe would look the other way and ignore me. But Vash was not to be fooled.. He whipped his gun out and shoved it in my face, demanding, “How many people have you recruited so far..!? How many..!?” To which I replied “I..I dunno.. I need a private army, man! The Enclave is -hyuge-..” A nearby bystander loudly proclaimed that Vash “lived in a world of love and peace! LOVE AND PEACE!” That spared me, for the time being, though Vash rather quickly quipped that my sneak skill rode on the lower end of about 20. Ouch.
Occasionally, I'd run into a yellow eyed wolf who was dancing up along the corridors. I'd catch him off guard in approaching him, patting my upper thighs like I were calling a dog, and saying “Dog meat! Dog meat, c'mon, boy! We gotta get back to the Capital Wasteland. It's time to go take the fight to the Enclave.” Despite my best efforts, my speech skill must have been lacking, because not one of the many times I'd say it would he join me. Although, I did run into Sonic the Hedgehog on one of the levels, same guy I ran into at Otakon over the summer. He claims to have joined me then, but only now would admit that he'd wholeheartedly support my fight against the Enclave. Hey, Sonics ultra-fast sound-barrier-breaking speeds will be a likely distraction to Enclave troops in the months to come as the final offensive mounts. Though, “Miyu” (turns out to be actually named as Fara) on Sunday could not be so easily swayed as I relayed to her tales of the far off wasteland of DC, and my noble fight against the Enclave. She did, however, give me her card..lol
A lot of cool people, I have to say. Good company, smooth conversation, matched with the perfect ambience were the order of the day throughout my three day stay. Everyone was approachable and open to conversation, without that hint of awkward forebode I sometimes got when I ran around with the Otakon crew. A member of the Bioshock group who wasn't in costume was a fellow fur in a kimono, though, her name escapes me. In fact, a lot of names escape me, looking back on it. An unfortunate side effect of con excitement, and meeting a lot of different people in rapid succession with only a brief window of contact. I remember a Lex, Euro, and Zach, and we all talked briefly on topics that came to mind, whether it was on the topic of anime or things we experienced in the here and now.
On occasion, I'd meet up with Rorschach around a lamp post around the small village. We'd talk “politics” as he'd complain with a coarse tone of voice about the filth overflowing from the dredges of the civilized world. Cheery fellow who showed an interest in baked beans, and I promised him plenty of it if he'd come with me to the Capital Wasteland. He declined. Although, he did accept a helping of Buffout, served graciously from my Buffout pill bottle.
My home group consisted of my local friends who ran with me on and off throughout the event. Without naming names, I can say, one was Pon Pon (and a Bandit from STALKER on the second day,) one was a character from 20th century boy, one remained without a costume, and the fella I stayed with switched between two of his own characters. For the most part, we linked up to eat on Friday and Saturday, occasionally going back to the room to hang out and watch anime before heading back out. Can't say that everything we ate was nutritionally sound; four large pizza's on delivery from Dominoes and Subway sandwiches between Friday to Saturday isn't exactly what I would consider healthy. Felt a bit sorry for the Dominoes delivery guy, though; he admitted to working a flower delivery service during the day, and how the snows impeded his progress.
Before I headed off to the rave on Saturday, I'd hit up National Pasttime (some sports bar I remember from the Boston airport) for a “well deserved” drink. Much of the day was spent wandering the entirety of the hotel grounds on only a few hours sleep, but that con-energy is something that could keep me going for days. Taking pictures and chatting it up with passerby in passing fancy was matched with striking poses and going for photo shoots. Figured I'd enjoy a drink to myself to savor the moment, given the fact that none of the other crew was open to partake in my visit to the bar. I ordered last years favorite; a tall cool glass of Angry Orchards hard cider, served graciously in a massive glass cup. It was by chance that I happened to talk to the fellows besides me about anything that came to mind, while the minutes whittled by. Didn't take long for the contents of my glass to drain down as we talked over our experiences locally and from our respective realms of residence. The fellows name escapes me, but I remember him mentioning coming in from Detroit. I want to say Chris.. Not sure if his friend was from Detroit as well, but I remember him as Nate.
Chris bought me a drink, presumably a show of camaraderie amongst kindred spirits, after I mentioned to him tales of a local bar near where I live by the name of MacGurks. He seemed to know the area back home pretty well, but complained of the high concentration of local police (a reasonable observation, but their presence presumably stems from the need to keep down the drunk drivers.) Several times, I told him one was enough for me, that he really didn't have to, but he shook his head and insisted on it. I told him next drink would be on me if we happened to meet again. To this, he stated that he'd know who to thank if a drink mysteriously appeared from nowhere if he ever happened to be at MacGurks, for whatever reason. Here's hoping I run into him again, with Nate in tow.
I poured much of the glass in a take away glass, the bartender grinning and saying I'd definitely have to sip a little more down. Now that I think of it, he eerily resembled the bartender from the 100 Rads bar. He even spoke with a vaguely Russian accent, and the name on his name-tag was definitely of eastern European origin. I wanted to ask him about it, but I figured it'd be kind of rude. I could just imagine him greeting me by saying, “Still alive. That's good..” Passing many thanks and my final good byes to Chris and Nate as the bar was about to close, I headed out and found Rorschach to be gone from his post. So my walk took me down through the white-washed tile flooring of the Gaylord and into the other wing. After two flights of escalators up, I ran into two fellows who asked me on a recommendation for a bar. I stated the Cadillac Ranch would stay open till about 2:00 AM. In the interim, I offered them the whole glass of hard cider, saying I'd just about had enough, feeling perfectly buzzed and tired all at once. I think their names were...Dustin and..Eric? They were navy boys, a little younger than me, yet seemingly older than me all at once.
Was on my way to watch Mad Bull 34, which was over the top hilarity following adult rated antics of two cops in a more violent version of New York. I didn't see much of it, but from what I can say.. a beefier and more macho version of Burt Reynalds runs as a veteran cop with a younger and less experienced rookie cop as over the top antics ensue. Hell, he hurls a table across the room and decapitates an android with the corner. Incidentally, I ran into Dustin and Eric later after a few trips between the courtyard to the upper levels, saying they had a bone to pick with me. I'd pointed them out to a local bar (Cadillac Ranch) at a much earlier request, but were stopped at the door with a “25 or older age restriction.” But, it all worked out, considering there were several others in the area. We made formal introductions before I met up with members of my home group. Cameron, Matt, Tyler, and a few others were hanging handy to venture into the rave for a climactic conclusion to the night, namely Cameron and Tyler.
The rave was a psychedelic wonder of music and a wicked light show, as one would expect from any rave. But as Eric was quick to point out before headed in, his major complaint was the fact that “dancers” would huddle in an unmoving mass and watch the few others brave enough to look like fools bust a move against a black tiled dance floor. I liked the experience, overall. I couldn't dance worth a damn, but I sort of moved to the groove of the beat when it came to be my “turn.” Shame I couldn't find any hot beautiful raver girl to match up to as a partner of sorts; I didn't feel like venturing into the center. It felt smaller and more underwhelming than what I was used to at Otakon, honestly, but the music was top-notch and there were some pretty interesting characters about. Just wish I could've stayed longer, before Cameron and Tyler tapped me on the shoulder to pull me away..
That was pretty much the highlight of Saturday. Leading into Sunday came the onset of con-goer blues as the realization set in of the con coming to an end, and the mild despair setting in. It was a good thing that I had packed early, dropping the other costume gear off at the car so I could vacate the hotel room early Sunday morning; the hotel wanted us out by 11:00 AM, as opposed to the previous time of about 2:00 PM in yester-years. After a short but satisfying bout of sleep after the long night the day before, I was up and at them as The Lone Wanderer yet again, though.. Mike left early, unfortunately. Asides a few trips down along the courtyard to the Artists Alley and the Merchants Hall, not too much happened afterwards. I picked up a copy of D2 for the Dreamcast, a game that reminded me of Parasite Eve and Resident Evil, for about $25. Only reason I paid the full price was on account of the fact all four disks were present, and were in good condition. Matched with that was a copy of Mad Bull 34, the complete set of four episodes (albeit long episodes.) $15 bucks after the 3 dollar discount I managed to coax, but it was worth it either way. Can't wait to show it to friends as we watch through it on some late night over junk food and alcohol.
The ride home was strangely short in contrast to the long drive that had transpired on Friday morning, which finally concluded my stay at the Gaylord and the event I knew as Katsucon 2014. I was left tired from lack of sleep, and yet simultaneously full of energy, the likes of which I only seem to experience while at a con. While stories of prior years contrast some of the allure that Katsucon posed as an East Coast anime convention, I have to say, it's still a rather satisfying event sure to captivate any visitor, local or not alike. I'd definitely recommend giving it a chance at least once, and I just might return next year if opportunity presents itself. To everyone I met, here's hoping I meet you again in the near future, be it at Anime Boston next month, or at Otakon over the summer. If not, then there'll be other opportunities, I'm sure. Possibly even a whole year to the next Katsucon. I couldn't possibly list every little event that had presented itself to me over the course of three days, but I wrote about everything that came to mind at the moment I wrote it, and hope that it comes off as a mildly interesting read for anyone who happens to glance through this journal entry in passing fancy. Right now, I look forwards to Anime Boston.
