Rogue Camp Debauchery!
I'm still awaiting the photos many people took of last weekend's semi-SCA event, Rogue Camp. I myself took no photos, as I got there to find my camera battery had died. Ah, well. So much for evidence.
I arrived Thursday night to find that I was NOT the earliest to arrive this year. Huzzah! "Cutthroat Island" was the entertainment for the evening, as there was nothing going on on the island yet. So we all slept in the cabin.
Friday dawned HOT and buggy. Really buggy. I'm still covered in welts, actually. After setting up Talan's tent, and then my own, and helping several people get thier stuff onto the island, it was time for a frosty beverage. Mmmm...beer.
I seem to have lost a few hours, because the next thing I remember, it's dark, and there's a bunch of people (yes, including me) in the treehouse all splattering opened glowstick juice on each other. Boy, you haven't lived until you are covered in non-toxic glowstick goo. Wrestling with about 20 other people covered in it. Drunk. 15 feet off the ground. Kind of a recipe for disaster, no? Fortunately, no one was injured. But I had some fabulous bruises the next day.
Speaking of the next day, after sleeping off that star-spangled hallucinatory experience, I found many Rogues battling in the meadow with a great selection of finely crafted boffer weapons. Ever see a bunch of grown ups acting like five year olds? It's great! I didn't get into the action until much later, after the toys had all been brought to, you guessed it, the treehouse.
I was on the defending team, trying to hold the fort, while the enemy team clambered up the nets and trees to attack. We really shouldn't have given them so many resurrections, as they just completely creamed us over and over. Ooh, sweaty. Time for more frosty beverages.
Saturday night was a musical spectacle that took my breath away. Also, taking the boys' breath away, was one of our dancers who has a set of fire fingers...that was really hot.
Sunday. What's the best cure for a hangover? Hair of the dog. My god, I think I'm actually sick of beer. Of course it all tastes like bug spray at this point, so that could have something to do with it.
The copious amounts of DEET that I had to bathe in did not affect the taste of the food (which was pretty much constantly shoved in my face whenever I went anywhere near the kitchen) and I ate like a queen. A greedy, fat queen. Mmmmmm...burgers.
Just for the record, I resisted all attempts by the wandering Darbucket crew, and didn't fall out of the treehouse. I'm sure the two are connected somehow.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to next year already. Thanks to Justin and Lisa for hosting such an amazing time, and thanks to Cookie for well, being Cookie. And to all you Rogues, Pirates, Fairies, Indians and Lost Boys, thanks for making my year.
I arrived Thursday night to find that I was NOT the earliest to arrive this year. Huzzah! "Cutthroat Island" was the entertainment for the evening, as there was nothing going on on the island yet. So we all slept in the cabin.
Friday dawned HOT and buggy. Really buggy. I'm still covered in welts, actually. After setting up Talan's tent, and then my own, and helping several people get thier stuff onto the island, it was time for a frosty beverage. Mmmm...beer.
I seem to have lost a few hours, because the next thing I remember, it's dark, and there's a bunch of people (yes, including me) in the treehouse all splattering opened glowstick juice on each other. Boy, you haven't lived until you are covered in non-toxic glowstick goo. Wrestling with about 20 other people covered in it. Drunk. 15 feet off the ground. Kind of a recipe for disaster, no? Fortunately, no one was injured. But I had some fabulous bruises the next day.
Speaking of the next day, after sleeping off that star-spangled hallucinatory experience, I found many Rogues battling in the meadow with a great selection of finely crafted boffer weapons. Ever see a bunch of grown ups acting like five year olds? It's great! I didn't get into the action until much later, after the toys had all been brought to, you guessed it, the treehouse.
I was on the defending team, trying to hold the fort, while the enemy team clambered up the nets and trees to attack. We really shouldn't have given them so many resurrections, as they just completely creamed us over and over. Ooh, sweaty. Time for more frosty beverages.
Saturday night was a musical spectacle that took my breath away. Also, taking the boys' breath away, was one of our dancers who has a set of fire fingers...that was really hot.
Sunday. What's the best cure for a hangover? Hair of the dog. My god, I think I'm actually sick of beer. Of course it all tastes like bug spray at this point, so that could have something to do with it.
The copious amounts of DEET that I had to bathe in did not affect the taste of the food (which was pretty much constantly shoved in my face whenever I went anywhere near the kitchen) and I ate like a queen. A greedy, fat queen. Mmmmmm...burgers.
Just for the record, I resisted all attempts by the wandering Darbucket crew, and didn't fall out of the treehouse. I'm sure the two are connected somehow.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to next year already. Thanks to Justin and Lisa for hosting such an amazing time, and thanks to Cookie for well, being Cookie. And to all you Rogues, Pirates, Fairies, Indians and Lost Boys, thanks for making my year.
Sounds like a wonderful time.
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