“Why are you even here?”

I see tears in her eyes. I am being screamed at.

“Why don’t you leave?”

Anger is evident on his face. “Just go!” he says.

But I am trapped here. I have to make a choice. Now.

A week ahead of this dramatic conversation, I was sent an email questionnaire by Sinking Ship Creations. To get the most out of Fade, the team insisted on all participants filling this survey out to assess what character might be best suited to them. We were asked, “How comfortable are you with playing a character that would have the following experiences: Having an affair? Death of a child? Being promiscuous?” It was a wide and varied form, offering many possibilities, and providing us the opportunity to live out a completely different experience compared to our real lives.

Having filled out my form, I was assigned the role of Valentine. Valentine is the resident heartthrob of the chamber, the space in which the LARP will be taking place, having had dozens of affairs, but never quite find a lasting love. He is to be sardonic, outgoing and charming — an excellent mix, if I do say so myself.

We are sent a series of documents to study prior to the experience. Laid out for us within are our relationships with all of the inhabitants of the world that we are entering, and perhaps most importantly, our relationships with our ourselves: our innermost being, who we really are. When arriving at the location, we are given space and time to re-read all of the information, now getting to put a face to each name. Introducing ourselves to each other, making small talk, and answering questions in character, we gradually assimilate into the mindset of those that we will be playing. Having taken the best part of an hour to get into character, we are then invited to go to sleep and to awaken in the world of Fade.

We awaken in a mysterious Chamber, a room that changes design and its contents every day. We don’t know how we got here, or really how long we have been here. A radio is always present, and it is through the radio that we have been trying to keep track of time. The song “One More Kiss, Dear” (which I recognize from the film Bladerunner) is a constant on the radio. We use it to signify the start and end of the day. We can not die, we can not be hurt, the only way out of the Chamber, is the door.

We don’t know what lies outside the door. We call it “the Void.” People have left in the past, choosing to leave us all behind. The Void has a looming presence over the entire Chamber, and it affects each of us in different ways. Many of us have seen loved ones leave into the Void. Since we’ve been here it feels like the Chamber eats memories; we just try to remember. And the door is always, always there.

With me in the Chamber are a mix of characters: happy couples, less than happy couples, an old timer, a brand new addition to the Chamber, and my twin, who is mourning the loss of our parents to the Void. We each have thoughts on why we are here, and indeed “where” we are, but the evening is far more about “who” we are than these relatively trivial matters. Who we are to each other only becomes apparent as we are forced to live with each other in this unusual space. Is Valentine the cause of unhappiness among some of the couples? Perhaps…

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Notebooks full of the relationship information we were sent prior to the experience are helpfully provided to each person. All of the pages are color coded, as are the characters, meaning the journals act as useful references throughout the evening. We are also encouraged to add our own thoughts and musings as a way of us to help recall our memories which are gradually fading in this space.

The Chamber always feels slightly too small for the group; this is the first rule of the Chamber. A total of 13 characters are in the Chamber as we awaken from our sleep, which, for this beautiful AirBnB studio in Harlem‚ does feel somewhat cramped. By design, there is never time or space to truly get comfortable here. While there is a relatively large group of characters in Fade, I found myself gravitating to just three or four of them: those that had the most to offer me as far as narrative and gameplay were concerned.

The evening is facilitated by the glorious Rita McCann, who welcomes all of the participants into the world of Fade, runs the workshop portfion, and then becomes a character herself. It is quite an undertaking for one person, one which she excels at. Her warm and welcoming personality, with a potentially hidden darker side, works perfectly in the chamber. She assumes the role of the peppy organizer, trying to unite everyone together in remembrance of those who have left before. Today is a special day, our remembrance day, when we take the time to purposefully try to remember those who have left us. She attempts to start a new tradition by taking our photos, one by one, and inviting us to place them on a board to represent how we are feeling on this remembrance day. The results are quite telling.

Unlike Sinking Ship Creations’ prior experience Mortality Machine, Kathaleen Amende’s Fade is a pure LARP, with no elements of escape room or site-specific dance or mystery to “solve,” and no way to “win” the experience. This is pointed out to us straight away by our host, and is, as always, an important reminder of how to best play in a collaborative LARP setting such as this. Learning to listen and expand upon your fellow participants ideas and choices is key to getting the most out of this experience. Although Fade is primarily a “serious” LARP, having a relatively dark and somber setting with some potentially upsetting topics, as a collective we found moments of levity and humor in the midst of it all. For instance, as we discussed our fading memories, we had an amusing recollection of those spreads that we used to put on those bagels (the bready thing, not the barking thing). Was it salmon? Or Nutella? Oh wait, of course it was both, it was “salmonella.” Obviously.

Part of the beauty of this experience was the lively discussion that came afterwards. The sense of relief as game ends for Fade is huge, as you feel the emotional baggage drop away from you as you gently reawaken as yourself. Debating with each other, discussing motives, and laughing together after the show is a cathartic experience. The emotions felt in Fade are very much real and valid and each interaction pushes the story on. There are no “set pieces” as such in the piece, no shocking revelations or exposition of new information, just the natural progression of the characters in this uncomfortable environment. (I am choosing not to divulge too much here, as I would not want to take away from anyone else’s experience, but I can certainly share that emotions ran high in our performance. Valentine was pushed very much the edge, and it was only through love that he was able to be brought back from it.)

It should be noted that this can be a very physical experience, with the potential for lots of intimacy between characters. This will vary with each group, but by the very nature of the narratives involved (infidelity, new loves, and fierce foes), intimacy is effectively encouraged — even demanded — of the characters. This isn’t an issue in itself, but is something participants should be aware of before taking part. Emotional vulnerability is also a key part of this particular experience. Safety is a priority and several mechanisms are in place to protect everyone involved, but I advise future players to be aware of yourself as you put yourself into the place of the character you are portraying.

The mechanics of Fade also mean that stepping out the door into the Void is a finite, experience-ending decision. Anyone can, and may, leave the Chamber at any point. However, this will also conclude their participation in the show. They are invited to meet with a Sinking Ship Creations associate at a nearby location, but they are not allowed to re-enter the space. This in-game decision, which can have a huge narrative implication and certainly make sense from a player’s perspective, does come with an out-of-game consequence which feels somewhat harsh. Leaving the Chamber may make sense for your character, but does it make sense for you as a participant to effectively lock yourself out of the rest of the show?

As the evening comes to a close, many questions are still running through my head. There are no concrete answers at the end of Fade. There are no “aha” moments in understanding the true nature of the Chamber or where we are. Instead our stories blossom and grow as we get to know each other better. It feels like being a lab rat in an experiment created by some mysterious scientist. I do not get to question who they are, or why they are doing it, I can only live and breathe as best I can in the moment.

During Fade, my character of ‘Valentine’ was able to learn so much about himself through the evening. I am thankful for each of the other people that impacted his fictional life through this experience. Although he may have been a fictional creation, the experience had real impact upon me as an active participant. It is these memories of Fade, these connections to myself through others around me, which I know will last.

Fade continues through March 30. Tickets are $65.

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