So, guys, I promised you a story. Brace yourselves - it's gonna be a loooong one.

It all began somewhere in late December 2014 – that time of the year when your newsfeed gets flooded with all your cosplaying friends announcing their major projects for the season, tagging you to do the same. While still unsure of my cosplay lineup for 2015, I did post that one costume I was absolutely positive I’d do: dibs on Sephiroth of „Final Fantasy VII“, whom I wanted to portray ever since doing Griffith of „Berserk“ had swayed me that villainous white-haired prettyboys might just be my thing. I announced the costume for Japanizam 2015 – the first weekend of July – and my post was soon full of comments, ranging from enthusiastic squeeing to “good luck with that one”. But then, one comment totally blew my mind.

A young man who goes by the name of Ender – a sweet and charming fellow whom I’d met in Paris in the Spring of 2014, at that role-playing ball where I’d been portraying the Duchess – nonchalantly remarked: “Ah, that’s great. Your sword will be finished by March.”

After the initial confusion – the inevitable “wait, what!?” – I got in touch with Ender to see what on Earth was going on, and it turned out he was really making me the sword. The thing was, Ender happened to be quite a capable crafter specialized in all sorts of LARP weapons. As a “Final Fantasy” fan, he wanted to make Masamune for a long while, he even had all the sword parts ready – but there just wasn’t any opportunity for it. With me as Sephiroth, there’d finally be someone to wield the sword, so Ender was happy that at last he’d be able to make Masamune with a purpose in mind – and I wish to thank him from the bottom of my heart for believing I’d be a good Sephi from day one. Merci mille fois, mon cher.

Fast forward to March 2015, and my annual vacation in Paris: ten days of sleeping on the couch of a friend who runs a nightclub specialized in costumed soirées. In between all the wild parties and long walks all over the city, I met Ender in one of Paris’ cutest bars, Le Dernier Bar avant la Fin du Monde. Turned out he was true to his promise – the sword was finished, well-made, huge – huuuuge – a true LARP weapon that could survive any fight, from duels to mass melees. Did I say the sword was huge? Almost 2 meters long, just like the real Masamune, Ender’s gift was exactly what I needed to make my Sephiroth perfect.

There was just one tiny little problem in the entire situation: how the f*ck was I going to transport a 2 meters long katana from France to Serbia, across two connecting flights, three border crossings and countless security check points?

The fun began that night already: imagine me in my full-blown Paris mode, with high heels, a curly hairdo and a designer coat with blue-dyed faux fur, carrying around a pole larger than me which, even though neatly wrapped in fabric, still suspiciously looked like a huge-ass sword.

“Dear me, girl, what are you carrying?” the passersby wondered.

“A katana,” I’d happily reply, watching their jaws drop – there was a lot of satisfaction in defying stereotypes by being a dolled up girly girl who walks around with a big giant sword. It almost made me feel like an actual video game heroine. But one thing was sure – if my Masamune attracted so much attention in the street, the airport security would have a field day with it.

First, I had this brilliant idea to mail the sword to myself – just drop it off at the post office before the flight and then have it delivered at my doorstep in Serbia a few days later. Unfortunately, the guy working at the post office would have none of it: no matter how many times I repeated “I swear on my life, the thing ain’t real”, he kept quoting the Law on Postal Services, claiming that “weapons and other dangerous items cannot be sent by regular mail”. After discussing with my friends whether I should leave the sword in Paris and just wait until someone goes to Serbia by car, and dismissing the idea because no one in their right mind would go from France to Serbia by car, I decided to take my chances and try to get Masamune into the airplane.

So here I was at the Charles de Gaule Airport, with two overweight bags (all those costumes for ten days of partying had to fit somewhere) and a 2 meters long katana. The lady at the baggage drop-off sent me to the counter for “unusual and oddly-shaped luggage” – holding my fingers crossed, I approached the young man working there.

“Oh my, what do we have here?” he asked when I placed my sword on the counter.

“A katana,” I said matter-of-factly. He raised an eyebrow.

“A real one?”

“Nope,” I clarified. “A stage prop.”

“What for?” he asked. Tired of explaining why I’m carrying around a huge stage sword to people who just didn’t get it (I’m still having nightmares about that grumpy post office worker), I decided to go with the full truth.

“Cosplay.”

“Oh really?” The young man smiled. “Which character?”

Confused, I cautiously asked: “You know ‘Final Fantasy’?”

The young man grinned and leaned towards me. Then, his voice down in full conspiracy mode, he whispered:

“Is that Masamune in there?”

Absolutely bewildered, I just nodded.

“For YOU?”

Instead of answering, I clenched my jaw, puffed up my chest and gave him the best manly glare I could muster – which must have looked ridiculous because of the aforementioned curly hairdo and blue fur coat, but it did get the message across.

“Wow,” he said. “Listen, sister, I’ll make a few calls and fill in some forms for you – you just read them and sign. No extra charges. Your sword will be waiting for you when you arrive to Belgrade.”

And so it did.

Moral of the story: our hobby is amazing, because in it there are wonderful people who will make a badass sword to a perfect stranger just for the joy of crafting and knowing that their work will be treated with love and respect. Our hobby is amazing, because you never know who may be a part of it: an airport baggage counter clerk, maybe, or that fashion victim girl in the blue fur designer coat. Our hobby is amazing, because we hold each other’s back and help each other out in the most unusual of situations.

Our hobby is amazing, because we’re almost like a family.