Red, Orange, Yellow
Fire Ball.
I sit amid a heap of FireBall paraphernalia.
Without getting scorched.
Without even being warm.
Wondering what it will all mean, all bring, come Sunday.
If I had a daughter, she would play N. Rimsky-Korsakov's "Song of India," which is sung by the Hindu Merchant in the opera "Sadko," on her viola.
If only I didn't sit
under an umbrella of 36 BlueBook essay exams . . .
I love you dear Blog screen, dear Blog screen, dear Blog screen.
Reflect back the fantasy of my reality.
posted by SquirrleyMojo @ 10:20 AM
4 Comments:
Fireball paraphernalia. Back in High School, I was in a fantasy RPG/LARP that met on Saturdays, like 50 or 60 or us sometimes, and among our prep work we made fireballs, lightning bolts, and throwing daggers.
Silly, silly foam toys. It was fun though. I miss it.
In the LARP I mentioned, I was a Cleric/Healer. I still remember the verbal healing spell...
It was more than 10 years ago, now...
"Sword cut, spear stab, mace smash, arrow jab, let the white light of healing decend on thou.
Sword cut, spear stab, mace smash, arrow jab, let the white light of healing close thy wounds.
Sword cut, spear stab, mace smash, arrow jab, let the white light of healing stop thy spilling blood.
Sword cut, spear stab, mace smash, arrow jab, let the white light of healing mend thy bones.
Sword cut, spear stab, mace smash, arrow jab, the white light of healing hast healed thou."
Noooo--Mike's a gamer??
Yo secret is out scout doggy dog--takes one to know one, but I'm not.
Hmn, I don't know what to think about the comment, above... Hard to know if it's heartfelt or sarcasm. I hope sarcasm.
Gamer, me?? I was - years ago. I have not played for something like 5 years, and that was the paper and dice stuff. It's all about the group of people, and a good group with compatible schedules are hard to find.
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