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 5 hours to go from 'yay home' to 'get me out of here'. 

That's a new record, I think. 

(It'll have all blown over in a day or so - is mainly parents being pissed off with brother and me being shit at dealing with conflict, plus laptop-scare, plus having to go to the dentist's tomorrow, plus having to go see grandparents. But at the moment? It sucks.)
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Presented without further comment (though it's hardly very FOIP) and still a work-in-progress

Cut for image-heavy and anyone who doesn't want to be spoiled r.e. a bit of personal plot )
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 So....we have a shiny new kitbag (please excuse mess in photo, room is untidy): 

It's tall enough to take a good pair of boots, and can fit pretty much all Mal's kit that's here (which is all of it minus the Sam Browne, tricorn, cane, and other things that he wears/carries) with room left over for food, underwear, socks, OC first aid kit, water and so forth. 

And, what's more, it actually doubles as a relatively good OC bag for me, and one which doesn't kill my spine. 

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 Also, am having missing-Maelstrom sad, though why I'm missing it more than makes up for it. 

If anyone gets themselves killed while I'm not bloody there I shall be very very very pissed off. 
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 So, everything goes awesome and wonderful and amazing (and I could go on for several days about that, so) except for one thing.

Am still getting backache (if we call it from Event 2/just pre-then, has been coming up on two months). Diagonal backache, usually - right shoulder to left hip - but sometimes entirely down right side, leg included. This is not particularly wonderful for a variety of reasons, especially since Maelstrom requires us to use our right arm to support weight (cane). That, I suspect, is going to be all manner of painful not-fun. 

So. Mainly a ranty post to stop me/us moaning about this on IRC or Facebook, but if anyone does know anything to do about said backache other than 'take painkillers and GO TO A BLOODY DOCTOR', it'd be much appreciated.
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 - IC tent 
- IC pack

- own dagger
- ARMOUR (jerkin, greaves, gorget)
- kit box
- materials for prosthesis

- sword
- staff

EDIT: Pack is now purchased (with many many thanks to my Jai for stepping up to the plate when my card didn't go through)

EDIT 2: Tent is also now purchased, though is stuck in a shop in London for the forseeable future. Ah well. 
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 Tally of packing so far:
 Boxes x 9 (of varying sizes)
Holdalls x 2
Suitcase x 1
Backpacks x 2
Generic Bag x 1
Guitar x 1
Unpackable objects (cane, staff, umbrella) x 4

Still to pack:
Feather-bottle-totem thing
Various clothes (ones I need for the next few days)
Crockery/cutlery/kitchen stuff
Am saving most of the still-to-pack for tomorrow, as, depending on how much we get ferried over to newhouse (before running out of spoons/petrol/the will to live), might well decide to move over entirely that night. 

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Rod of Aesculapius =/= Caduceus 

Mal's tattoo isn't of a symbol of death and con-tricks, after all. 

(Will be my tattoo too, at some point. Maybe this summer)
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 If you ever bloody suggest that being a surgeon/physician/healer in any LARP system is a) cowardice, b) 'feminine'* or c) slacking off/not really roleplaying, please don't be surprised if we decide that your face and our fist need to make acquaintances. 

- Finn and Mal (both rather irritated at assumptions made on certain forums)

*This is a personal thing of mine. Call me a girl, feminine, 'she' or anything of the sort, and I will hurt you.  - Finn
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Vampire, no question. 

Though that may be Archer, Sabbat and my autovampirism/blood-obsession talking, so. 
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Being At A Maelstrom Event, full stop. Seeing things, meeting people, having fun, and possibly getting the money for September from my parents, so all Good Things. 

Aislynn being there - very many thanks for that, by the way :)

Finding my Malathian accent halfway through the event, and being complimented on it afterwards. 

Actually getting to patch up people.

The search party in the woods (for all it wrecked my leg) and the real sense of danger around that

Singing songs around the Marshalls' campfire. 
Those conversations about wemic anatomy.
Meeting other surgeons and vaguely making connections.
Camping IC. Definitely intend to do that next time, though probably with a better tent
Finding a proper Sam Brown for a very good price - is now an integral part of my kit. 
Being wounded (IC not great, but OOC? Just hope I get worse hit/a chance to use my mouth-blood stuff next event.)
Sudden IC realisations regarding religion, and the repercussions thereof.
"Can you keep up?" "Aye." (In explanation: joining a group fully expecting to be turned away [given was both limping and wounded], and being asked pretty much that instead.)
Tent escaping half the time
Spending the first few hours of the event flailing half in and half out of character, and failing at pretty much everything (the drowning of sorrows in the pub was pretty much half OOC woes as well)
Realising after the event that I could have sewn my own damn leg up
Realising after the event that I should IC have bought/looked for several things I OOC didn't know existed because I'd not read the appendices of the Almanac
IC clumsiness bleeding over into OOC - spilling hot coffee over my hand being the worst of those incidents - and nearly snarling an unwarranted IC reply to the guy behind the food counter over a comment about said clumsiness. 

Forgetting to eat on Saturday. 
Missing almost every fight because of that damn limp (though that's an IC Bad more than an OOC one)
Waking up too early and having to wait around for ages before time-in.
That feeling of the world ceasing to exist when everyone started packing up.

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 You'd think people in fiction would learn to specify when making demands. Might stop a deal of horribly ironic (but somewhat hilarious) deaths. 

Edit: To be fair, it's happened in real life as well. Specifying is a very good idea. Especially with regards to gold. 
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 I'd probably fence more if I had a sabre. I don't fence enough to warrant buying a sabre. 
...I want a sabre. I would love it and pet it and call it George*

Well, not 'George'. Something a deal more sword-name like than George. But it would have a name

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 I am sitting here in half my LARP kit, wondering why my suitcase for going home has all my clean socks in it, and cursing the fact that I can't do any washing before 2pm tomorrow. 

...I hate house viewings. 

[Mal is also here, though he's more grumbling about the scarring in our left earlobe and poking me about going to bed. Hypocrite.]
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This song has been stuck in my head for an hour and a half now. 

This may or may not be due to the fact that the kitchen is full of British Gas people and thus I have yet to do the washing up before the house viewing that is happening in two hours. 

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Okay, so.

Other writings first, as they're the newest: my dA now houses my #100themes for Black Roses. If you like the BR lot and wanted to see more of 'em, head over and check it out. 

Runaway Tales pieces being what they are, and my brain being what it is, I decided to make up a bit of a set of timelines of the pieces, just to keep 'em all in order (and maybe get people reading some of 'em~). So, here we go (unless stated otherwise, assume these are around PG/PG-13rated):

(Also includes collaborative 'verses with [profile] jai_takes_over , whose most excellent writings can be found here <3)

[Also note that these were posted under my old account, [livejournal.com profile] guil_solo 

Saranados )

Black Roses )

Last World Without )

Moonshine and Dice )

Scribes )

Other )