When I started dating John in 2006, he spent every Saturday afternoon at the park with his friends hitting each other with foam covered pipes. It was piping then and for the life of me I can’t stop calling it that. These days it’s a sport and it’s called a few other, fancier, names but piping is how it was introduced to me and piping it remains.
My enthusiasm has stayed the same but John’s has fluctuated quite a bit. He went from wearing workout clothes and taking duct taped weapons to our local park every weekend to, well, this:
I have a love-hate relationship with events. I’m not terribly fond of nature and they require staying outdoors all day and sometimes camping overnight. Though admittedly I have yet to agree to actually camp out during a camping event. Last weekend’s event was a day event and totally worth all the time I had to spend outside. It wasn’t the fighting that kept my attention but rather, the fighters. They’re all quite photogenic. And friendly!
There were lots of games that I don’t quite understand the rules of just yet and a questionable game involving killing/protecting a balloon baby that I just don’t care for. Here you see the proud papa passing off his child to the worst babysitters you’ve ever seen.
But the highlight of the day was John being (as I like to put it) jumped into the Grey Wardens. Which is a unit in…you don’t care. And you don’t need to, don’t worry about it. He had to fight about twenty people (rough guess) one at a time, until he managed to kill them all. Some people went down easily, but not Black (note: this is his nickname and not a vague description). This was a common view during my filming:
Ultimately, though, he succeeded and I was happy to be there for that. I’m sort of negative most of the time but John sees the good side in everything. Even his horrible injury. It looks like a heart. Or so he claims. You can be the judge.