My first event of the year was absolutely FULL of highlights, so if I don't blog them there's something terribly wrong with me... So here goes:
Hope you have time, this will be a long one.
Friday:
We get to the site, and begin setting up. I'm not there even three hours when some drunk, belligerent fuck tries to pick a fight. He calls me over as I pass his tent, so I figure he wants to say hi... No, not this guy, he's a total fuckwit. He acts like I cut through his encampment, a bit of a faux pas in the SCA or pretty much anywhere else one goes camping. Okay then, so I begin to explain how he is incorrect and that I was passing between his encampment an another, and he says "thanks for the disrespect," and gives me the bird. My reply: "Whatever..." and I walk away. So I go on my way to my encampment, only to have this asshat and his little cronie follow me there. His cronie posts himself right outside my tent, acting badass, not knowing a fucking thing about what he's about to get himself into. The first asshat comes up carrying a six foot long galvanized steel pipe of the type you use to put up a chain link fence. At this point, I have fucking had it with the Drama (tm), so I step up, and get right up in the cronie's face. The difference between the cronie and the asshat and I is that I, unlike them, WILL kick your ass if you act like you want to fight. I do NOT intimidate easily, and these guys, even though there were two of them, and one was pretty well armed, did not have what it takes. I was infuriated that they would try this shit, and was oblivious to the fact that my encampment had mustered its forces and amassed behind me. Well basically, to make a long story short, testosterone goes flying everywhere, and eventually asshat walks away, still making threatening gestures, repeatedly gripping the handle of the Ghurka Kukri knife in his belt. NOT okay to threaten to use your blades in the SCA. They're intended for costume or utility only, and the real world's laws STILL APPLY. Asshat makes it back to his tent and I can hear him talking shit about how he plans to "shank" me... Guess he didn't realize that the walls of the tent are NOT soundproof. Cronie continues to talk shit... All's fine with a universe clever enough to contain yours truly-- then he pushes me. Remember that little bit a few lines up about the differences between them and I? How I WILL kick your ass if you give me enough shit? Yeah, that part. Well, he gets a hands-on demonstration of exactly how truly I mean that. Now I realize he's drunk off his ass (no excuse for his behavior) but he's more than likely not a bad kid when he's sober. The same is likely true of asshat, really. So rather than drop this guy with something truly bonebreaking or otherwise damaging, I used a basic Aikido takedown and pinned him to the ground with his bicep across his neck. After I figured I'd given him enough "Alpha Male" treatment at a high enough volume for everyone to hear, I let him up and he literally slinks back to his tent-- crying. That's the first time in eight years of eventing with the SCA that I have ever come to blows with someone. The whole thing blows over between them and I after the event security comes and warns them that one more incident will get them removed. Nothing more goes down between them and I, though asshat does get arrested later that night for pulling his blade on someone outside a food tent. I give a recap of the incident to the cops later at three in the morning. The following day they both pack their shit and leave. All in all, not a boring Friday to say the least.
Another highlight: Jester ( formerly known as Creepyguy ) and I made peace. He walked up to me, told me I was right. LF did in fact spend him dry, and he moved to Vegas. I told him there were to be no apologies from him, we were both wrong about one another. It was good to see the man, truly. The other person I thought was a turncoat turned out to be waiting to hear from me, and decided that it was indeed just LF trying to bullshit him into taking sides. He's still friends with him, he just won't be bullshitted into not being my friend just because LF says so. I expected no more or less. Again, good to see him. LF on the other hand walked around all weekend looking alternately like I kicked his puppy and came in his eye. Funny, really.
I wake up Saturday morning to two picture messages. They both show a pregnancy test-- with positive results. Now, don't congratulate ME, Lorelai's got the hard part: Morning sickness, water retention, fatigue, mood swings, and insane cravings await her, poor dear. But on the upside, she's wanted a baby forever, and I get to finally be part of my child's life from the beginning through all the important bits! YAY!
By afternoon, Asshat and Cronie are gone. Fine by me, no skin off my nuts. After a few hours, however, we get the word that no live steel blades are to be carried on site anymore. Them? No, not completely... ECS (Empire of Chivalry and Steel) was putting on a demonstration of live steel combat, and the rangers saw it. Regardless of the fact that the ECS has permits and the rangers were forewarned, they were shut down and live steel weapons are banned onsite.
The equestrians cause more of a stink, and finally a lad onsite (who knows them personally) and I hatch a plan. We INVITE them onsite, to carouse and ask questions and meet us. They have a good time, get a lot of answers, and leave us with the impression that they realize we are not the assholes they think we are. Lapdog, however, tells everyone that one of them tried to pay her for sex. Now, kids, if you're gonna lie, at least try to convince someone! Basically it comes down to her being the typical attention whore. No one is going to go to a "Renaissance Faire" setting and treat the ladies like hookers. It is also funny (or convenient, depending on how you look at it) that there are no fucking witnesses.
Sunday, just like last year, a child goes missing. We search the site, then off-site, and the child is found by a party about 300 feet ahead of mine. On our way back, we see a pony come bolting through the site, headed our way. Pretty little thing, scared out of its wits, too, by the look of it. Well, to make a long story short, with the help of about four other guys in my search party, we make it stop momentarily, and choose a direction in which to run. Of course it decides to go by ME, but luckily it doesn't have the speed to pass between me and a tree I am next to. I catch the reins, get my hands on the lead rope, and pass it to tha lad who knows the owners, just as they are coming up on our location. We hand the pony over without so much as a single negative word, despite the fact that we are rather justified after the way they treated us. In fact we joke a bit, smile, and bid them good day. Wouldn't have mattered how we handled them, they're leaving by this time.
Suffice it to say, the days are just packed. The NIGHTS are NO different.
The shows:
Friday is cut short, due to noise complaints. The equestrians begin to get on our nerves. We only get in twenty minutes of performance. We decide to start Saturday at 8:30 so we can make up for lost time. More on that later.
After the show, I go out solo, along with Jester. He knows the drill for what I go out to do. I find an encampment to set up, and out comes the FIRE FLOGGER and one of my shorter whips, SKINNER. We get quite a few volunteers that night, about thirty. One of them is a girl whose eighteenth birthday is that very day. All in all, Friday sets the theme for the after-show weekend.
Saturday's show starts at 8:30, and we play to a crowded merchant's row. One of our esteemed guests is an off-duty FIRE CHIEF who loves to watch fire performances. He leaves that night absolutely tickled pink. Pixie's wings go over like the Second Coming of Christ. Everyone just goes totally fucking GA-GA. We have a guest that we know from the Portland Firejam, one of the "cool" ones. You know, the ones that DON'T think they're all that just because they do POI? It's his lack of an ego problem that makes him so fucking good, I think. Also joining us is Xieke, a guest from last year. In addition to all this, we have a guest take his first time in front of an audience.
After the show, Floggings bring in about 30 dollars in fuel donations, and I think I beat on about fifty people. Included int his number are seven WHIPPINGS. Only one person, one of my ex-girlfriends, takes the whip for the full duration of the flame. Everyone else bows out before it goes out.
Sunday starts slow, with a small audience, but things pick up. Final Dance that night (when we ask the bellydancers in the audience to join us while we dance around them and provide light) brings two surprises: The first surprise is one of the little girls. She has a disability that makes her unable to walk on her own without crutches, and what posture she has is stooped. But there she is, out there on the floor, dancing her little heart out. I hover over her for a bit, to make sure everyone gets to see the little darling before I move on. At the conclusion of the Final Dance comes the second surprise: My youngest SON is among the children dancing with us. I do not recognize the lad, partially because last time I saw him he was in swaddling clothes, and partially because he has long, curly blonde hair, and I took him for a girl at first. He's quite the cute one.
Sunday's Fire Floggings bring over one hundred volunteers, to include the first double flogging involving sisters. I briefly switch to fleshing (torches on the skin) as a way to give my arm a rest. My flogger, called Balor, had new wicks at the beginning of the event. At the event's end, they now need replacing.
This was going to be my last Gathering. I have changed my mind. If next year's is even half as good as this year's, I'll still be happy with the way it turns out.
Hope you have time, this will be a long one.
Friday:
We get to the site, and begin setting up. I'm not there even three hours when some drunk, belligerent fuck tries to pick a fight. He calls me over as I pass his tent, so I figure he wants to say hi... No, not this guy, he's a total fuckwit. He acts like I cut through his encampment, a bit of a faux pas in the SCA or pretty much anywhere else one goes camping. Okay then, so I begin to explain how he is incorrect and that I was passing between his encampment an another, and he says "thanks for the disrespect," and gives me the bird. My reply: "Whatever..." and I walk away. So I go on my way to my encampment, only to have this asshat and his little cronie follow me there. His cronie posts himself right outside my tent, acting badass, not knowing a fucking thing about what he's about to get himself into. The first asshat comes up carrying a six foot long galvanized steel pipe of the type you use to put up a chain link fence. At this point, I have fucking had it with the Drama (tm), so I step up, and get right up in the cronie's face. The difference between the cronie and the asshat and I is that I, unlike them, WILL kick your ass if you act like you want to fight. I do NOT intimidate easily, and these guys, even though there were two of them, and one was pretty well armed, did not have what it takes. I was infuriated that they would try this shit, and was oblivious to the fact that my encampment had mustered its forces and amassed behind me. Well basically, to make a long story short, testosterone goes flying everywhere, and eventually asshat walks away, still making threatening gestures, repeatedly gripping the handle of the Ghurka Kukri knife in his belt. NOT okay to threaten to use your blades in the SCA. They're intended for costume or utility only, and the real world's laws STILL APPLY. Asshat makes it back to his tent and I can hear him talking shit about how he plans to "shank" me... Guess he didn't realize that the walls of the tent are NOT soundproof. Cronie continues to talk shit... All's fine with a universe clever enough to contain yours truly-- then he pushes me. Remember that little bit a few lines up about the differences between them and I? How I WILL kick your ass if you give me enough shit? Yeah, that part. Well, he gets a hands-on demonstration of exactly how truly I mean that. Now I realize he's drunk off his ass (no excuse for his behavior) but he's more than likely not a bad kid when he's sober. The same is likely true of asshat, really. So rather than drop this guy with something truly bonebreaking or otherwise damaging, I used a basic Aikido takedown and pinned him to the ground with his bicep across his neck. After I figured I'd given him enough "Alpha Male" treatment at a high enough volume for everyone to hear, I let him up and he literally slinks back to his tent-- crying. That's the first time in eight years of eventing with the SCA that I have ever come to blows with someone. The whole thing blows over between them and I after the event security comes and warns them that one more incident will get them removed. Nothing more goes down between them and I, though asshat does get arrested later that night for pulling his blade on someone outside a food tent. I give a recap of the incident to the cops later at three in the morning. The following day they both pack their shit and leave. All in all, not a boring Friday to say the least.
Another highlight: Jester ( formerly known as Creepyguy ) and I made peace. He walked up to me, told me I was right. LF did in fact spend him dry, and he moved to Vegas. I told him there were to be no apologies from him, we were both wrong about one another. It was good to see the man, truly. The other person I thought was a turncoat turned out to be waiting to hear from me, and decided that it was indeed just LF trying to bullshit him into taking sides. He's still friends with him, he just won't be bullshitted into not being my friend just because LF says so. I expected no more or less. Again, good to see him. LF on the other hand walked around all weekend looking alternately like I kicked his puppy and came in his eye. Funny, really.
I wake up Saturday morning to two picture messages. They both show a pregnancy test-- with positive results. Now, don't congratulate ME, Lorelai's got the hard part: Morning sickness, water retention, fatigue, mood swings, and insane cravings await her, poor dear. But on the upside, she's wanted a baby forever, and I get to finally be part of my child's life from the beginning through all the important bits! YAY!
By afternoon, Asshat and Cronie are gone. Fine by me, no skin off my nuts. After a few hours, however, we get the word that no live steel blades are to be carried on site anymore. Them? No, not completely... ECS (Empire of Chivalry and Steel) was putting on a demonstration of live steel combat, and the rangers saw it. Regardless of the fact that the ECS has permits and the rangers were forewarned, they were shut down and live steel weapons are banned onsite.
The equestrians cause more of a stink, and finally a lad onsite (who knows them personally) and I hatch a plan. We INVITE them onsite, to carouse and ask questions and meet us. They have a good time, get a lot of answers, and leave us with the impression that they realize we are not the assholes they think we are. Lapdog, however, tells everyone that one of them tried to pay her for sex. Now, kids, if you're gonna lie, at least try to convince someone! Basically it comes down to her being the typical attention whore. No one is going to go to a "Renaissance Faire" setting and treat the ladies like hookers. It is also funny (or convenient, depending on how you look at it) that there are no fucking witnesses.
Sunday, just like last year, a child goes missing. We search the site, then off-site, and the child is found by a party about 300 feet ahead of mine. On our way back, we see a pony come bolting through the site, headed our way. Pretty little thing, scared out of its wits, too, by the look of it. Well, to make a long story short, with the help of about four other guys in my search party, we make it stop momentarily, and choose a direction in which to run. Of course it decides to go by ME, but luckily it doesn't have the speed to pass between me and a tree I am next to. I catch the reins, get my hands on the lead rope, and pass it to tha lad who knows the owners, just as they are coming up on our location. We hand the pony over without so much as a single negative word, despite the fact that we are rather justified after the way they treated us. In fact we joke a bit, smile, and bid them good day. Wouldn't have mattered how we handled them, they're leaving by this time.
Suffice it to say, the days are just packed. The NIGHTS are NO different.
The shows:
Friday is cut short, due to noise complaints. The equestrians begin to get on our nerves. We only get in twenty minutes of performance. We decide to start Saturday at 8:30 so we can make up for lost time. More on that later.
After the show, I go out solo, along with Jester. He knows the drill for what I go out to do. I find an encampment to set up, and out comes the FIRE FLOGGER and one of my shorter whips, SKINNER. We get quite a few volunteers that night, about thirty. One of them is a girl whose eighteenth birthday is that very day. All in all, Friday sets the theme for the after-show weekend.
Saturday's show starts at 8:30, and we play to a crowded merchant's row. One of our esteemed guests is an off-duty FIRE CHIEF who loves to watch fire performances. He leaves that night absolutely tickled pink. Pixie's wings go over like the Second Coming of Christ. Everyone just goes totally fucking GA-GA. We have a guest that we know from the Portland Firejam, one of the "cool" ones. You know, the ones that DON'T think they're all that just because they do POI? It's his lack of an ego problem that makes him so fucking good, I think. Also joining us is Xieke, a guest from last year. In addition to all this, we have a guest take his first time in front of an audience.
After the show, Floggings bring in about 30 dollars in fuel donations, and I think I beat on about fifty people. Included int his number are seven WHIPPINGS. Only one person, one of my ex-girlfriends, takes the whip for the full duration of the flame. Everyone else bows out before it goes out.
Sunday starts slow, with a small audience, but things pick up. Final Dance that night (when we ask the bellydancers in the audience to join us while we dance around them and provide light) brings two surprises: The first surprise is one of the little girls. She has a disability that makes her unable to walk on her own without crutches, and what posture she has is stooped. But there she is, out there on the floor, dancing her little heart out. I hover over her for a bit, to make sure everyone gets to see the little darling before I move on. At the conclusion of the Final Dance comes the second surprise: My youngest SON is among the children dancing with us. I do not recognize the lad, partially because last time I saw him he was in swaddling clothes, and partially because he has long, curly blonde hair, and I took him for a girl at first. He's quite the cute one.
Sunday's Fire Floggings bring over one hundred volunteers, to include the first double flogging involving sisters. I briefly switch to fleshing (torches on the skin) as a way to give my arm a rest. My flogger, called Balor, had new wicks at the beginning of the event. At the event's end, they now need replacing.
This was going to be my last Gathering. I have changed my mind. If next year's is even half as good as this year's, I'll still be happy with the way it turns out.
It sounds like you had a spectacular weekend. Did you get to spend some time with your son?
You have a seriously interesting life.
I'm so boring
xoxo