Thursday, January 5, 2012


It wasn't that we didn't love the scene that was going to happen, but in the moment, it was that we both needed it.

Both Murphy and I were exhausted. We'd barely gotten any sleep between the Bomb-iversary and leaving for FetFest. While Dov had passed out in my back seat during the ride, Murphy and I had chatted for all the hours down to camp. He had wanted to make sure I stayed awake. I had appreciated the company. We had talked about this and that, but we'd also decided we would have a scene that evening.

Neither of us got a nap before night fell. There were sprinted hugs to give, gifts to handout, takedown practice to administer, people to meet, an opening ceremony, a Waffle House run, and random rope-y fun-ness to be had.

So, when I came up to the Rope Village, because again I was dumb and didn't get myself in a cabin by with my friends, Murphy and I both needed a jolt. For him, it was something to kick start his event, to help him find a passionate spark to the weekend.

For me, it was a grounding, a coming back. I had already pushed through fatigue, an emotional struggle through my walk at the Labyrinth, and Green Eyes whispering horrible notions in my ear. I needed comfort, centering, the love I share with my family of friends.

So Murphy and I were about to go to the dungeon to make ourselves right when fate tempted us. We peaked our heads into Cabin One and found EmberOfSerenity, Gray, And Janice all naked on a bed and inviting us in. The struggle, the shear will to pull ourselves away from them was excruciating. But we did, myself securing a rain check for cuddles later in the event.

During our walk to the play space, Murphy spoke on how the feel of Fet differed from Rope Camp. He could already sense it would be closer to fireworks (fits, starts, pops, flashes of play and fun), as opposed to Rope Camp (a long, smouldering extensive burn). I thought this could be good for him, a challenge to adapt to his feeling yet still make this event his own.

Taking our place under a wench, Murphy had me remove a little bit of clothing, but basically kept my school girl outfit in tact. I'd worn it because I knew he loved this particular look.

He tied a chest harness on me, our connection immediate and strong. He attached me, for the first time, to the hard point on my side. He lifted my left leg and worked on securing it to his ring. But I faltered. I didn't keep my balance. He caught me, brought me back up, and righted my stance.

I giggled even as I almost went topsy turvy towards the floor. Murphy got me standing and encouraged me to be strong in my right leg, to find my center. I held the position until he lifted my right leg and had me floating sideways.

My giggling and smiling continued. He brushed his hand on my cheek, then punched my chest. I floated counterclockwise. After a full rotation, he again punched me, this time in the other direction. I drifted; I relaxed; I flew. My smile would not go away.

Slowly he lowered the wench until I softly landed on the blue mat. He untied me; we hugged; I felt like me again.

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