Weekend Wolf Event
Apr. 5th, 2004 10:14 amCrewed the LT Wolf LARP event for some most excellent chums...well, 'crewing' is not really what I did, I made two little woodland shrines, one to Sif and one to Hella, bimbled round as a priestess of Sif in frankly offensive plaits, and did odd bits and pieces. Not exactly taxing. So how come I'm feeling tired and fluey?
It might be because I couldn't sleep at all on Saturday night, and found myself sitting up in my bunk watching the night outside grow pale and float away in the rain (another demonstration of how silver can be real and yet extraordinary: silver birches, fitful moonlight, torrential downpour. Incredible.)
I was trying to bring something to mind.
I left the faction years ago, after going through such a painful experience I couldn't speak to anyone properly about it for a long time, and indeed, for a while I couldn't speak about it at all. For the gobalmighty to shut, dear LJ, you can imagine how horrific the situation must have been. I can joke about it now, but I didn't have that option for a couple of years.
Since then, so many Wolfy chums have welcomed me, offered me friendship and kindness, coaxed me back. Early sunday morning I tried to recall one particular voice, the voice I most associate with the Wolves and sorrow. I stared into the coming morning, and strained to hear it in my mind's ear, that particular rasp and tenor, the flavour of the sound.
I couldn't remember it.
Life rolls on and everything changes. I will happily crew/help out/whatever for these people again. They are lovely.
Now, onto the event. Well, looking from the outside, everything external that could go wrong did; traffic, weather, epileptic fits, you name it.
And yet conversely, it all seems to have worked out remarkably well. The early time out necessitated by Saturday night's downpour had an unexpected pay-off; Most players did their drinking/falling over/crashing out before midnight, (I don't include the Raggers in this of course!) and were consequently bright eyed and bushy tailed very early Sunday morning.
This was matched by the manic energy of the monster crew, who were ready to attempt anything at any time. The result was that unending waves of stuff to do were met by unending waves of pcs ready to do it.
There are a whole bunch of new players to the faction as well as some old and much loved favourites (The NeverEnding Bard and Smartie are reunited with a whole catalogue of new songs) and it all felt very fresh. The pc's I talked to were enthusiastic beyond belief. There was stuff for everybody, scouts, incanters, alchemists, mages, thinkers and thumpmonkeys alike, and a plotline most ancient
and revered met its end with great aplomb.
All in all, pretty good. Now, four days to Maelstrom. Oh, but I'm sotired!
It might be because I couldn't sleep at all on Saturday night, and found myself sitting up in my bunk watching the night outside grow pale and float away in the rain (another demonstration of how silver can be real and yet extraordinary: silver birches, fitful moonlight, torrential downpour. Incredible.)
I was trying to bring something to mind.
I left the faction years ago, after going through such a painful experience I couldn't speak to anyone properly about it for a long time, and indeed, for a while I couldn't speak about it at all. For the gobalmighty to shut, dear LJ, you can imagine how horrific the situation must have been. I can joke about it now, but I didn't have that option for a couple of years.
Since then, so many Wolfy chums have welcomed me, offered me friendship and kindness, coaxed me back. Early sunday morning I tried to recall one particular voice, the voice I most associate with the Wolves and sorrow. I stared into the coming morning, and strained to hear it in my mind's ear, that particular rasp and tenor, the flavour of the sound.
I couldn't remember it.
Life rolls on and everything changes. I will happily crew/help out/whatever for these people again. They are lovely.
Now, onto the event. Well, looking from the outside, everything external that could go wrong did; traffic, weather, epileptic fits, you name it.
And yet conversely, it all seems to have worked out remarkably well. The early time out necessitated by Saturday night's downpour had an unexpected pay-off; Most players did their drinking/falling over/crashing out before midnight, (I don't include the Raggers in this of course!) and were consequently bright eyed and bushy tailed very early Sunday morning.
This was matched by the manic energy of the monster crew, who were ready to attempt anything at any time. The result was that unending waves of stuff to do were met by unending waves of pcs ready to do it.
There are a whole bunch of new players to the faction as well as some old and much loved favourites (The NeverEnding Bard and Smartie are reunited with a whole catalogue of new songs) and it all felt very fresh. The pc's I talked to were enthusiastic beyond belief. There was stuff for everybody, scouts, incanters, alchemists, mages, thinkers and thumpmonkeys alike, and a plotline most ancient
and revered met its end with great aplomb.
All in all, pretty good. Now, four days to Maelstrom. Oh, but I'm sotired!
no subject
Date: 2004-04-05 05:51 am (UTC)