#I have never had this much given to me on pay day OUGH))

[smilingmxsk]

((BOY HOWDY I'M FEELIN GOOD TODAY))

[theuniversitychallengereview]

UC 49.34 - Trinity, Cam vs Jesus, Ox

I’ve been furloughed, which you’d think would result in a more well-researched and tightly edited blog than usual given all of the extra time I find on my hands. But predictably you’d have been wrong (the fact that I’ve spent much of that time trying to wash it off of my hands for hygeine purposes notwisthstanding). 

I did watch the Godfather this morning though, so my time hasn’t been completely wasted. I was having bluetooth sync issues so went on YouTube for some tips and the guy in the video was also watching The Godfather (just an interesting little coincidence for you there).

Furlough is one of those words that makes you understand how infuriating it must be to learn English as a foriegn language. Its a fairly rare word, so many native speakers won’t have known which of the ‘ough’ sounds should follow the ‘furl’ (as in rough, cough, through, plough and though etc). Is it fur-loh, fur-low, fur-luff, fur-loff or fur-loo? For me it seemed right that furlough should be fur-low, to rhyme with cow, but then furloughed to rhyme with though. I was right on one count, but furlough is just one of a number of terms that have been added to the national lexicon at breakneck speed over the past few weeks. Social distancing, herd immunity, self-isolate, ‘Protect the NHS’ (actually, this one only counts when its Boris saying it. Plenty of us have been saying it for years)

And the word itself isn’t the only weird thing about furloughing (in this formI would have guessed it’d be fur-loffing). I’m fortunate that I’ll be okay with 80% of my pay, but for some people that won’t be enough, but they can’t do anything else to make up the rest. And then what do you do all day? I’ve seen a bunch of Self-Betterment gurus on the tweets saying that if you don’t master at least one language and martial art (each) then you’re a total failure who lacks the discipline to make anything of themselves in life, which is obviously bollocks. Everyone is in a different situation so for some people simply carrying on will be a great victory. 

But it still feels like we should be doing something, because the alternative is just to read the news and lose yourself in worry. But what do we do? Constant distraction can feel like a cop out too, like you’re not facing up and acknowledging everything thats going on, taking a holiday instead of action, although that doesn’t make much sense as a stance either. The best action most of us can take is inaction, and besides, there’ll be people who’ve never had more than three weeks off work in decades, so do they not deserve to treat this like a holiday, even if in these circumstances it can feel guilty to do so?

Anyway, tell you what, The Godfather is properly marvelous isn’t it? A stone cold classic, I say, and you can take that to the bank. Also, a little bonus on top of the earlier coincidence, this was both the first time I’d watched the Godfather and the first time I’d ever used Bluetooth headphones with my laptop. Make of that what you will.

Last week, which feels like a lot longer ago than a week (I’d place it at more than a fortnight at least, were I a betting man. I’d have lost that bet of course, which is why I’m not a betting man, but the point stands) Trinity College, Cambridge absolutely walloped Jesus College, Oxford in the final Quarter Final of University Challenge 2019-20 (that’s right, I’m flipping the switch (note the highly contemporary reference to Tik-Tok, a social media platform which continues to baffle me) and revealing the result at the start of the blog (or at least the middle) rather than the end). 

That paragraph had 29 words outside brackets, 48 words inside brackets, and 22 words inside brackets inside brackets, which I think might be a personal record. Anyway...

Trinity had certainly come into this match as favourites, with their loss to Corpus Christi somewhat of an aberration, with Durham the only other team to get within 60 points of them in three other appearances. Jesus by contrast, had a combined margin of only 80 from their three wins, in addition to the pair of losses they had to their name. But they tended to put up a fight even in defeat, so this shouldn’t have been a whitewash.

It was though (th-off).

Both sides missed the opening starter, but Hughes got Trinity going with the replacement. He would go on to have a jolly old time in this episode, racking up seven correct buzzes in total, along with a clear and large gain of confidence. Hourihan too, seemed far more comfortable on the buzzer towards the end of the match, when victory was more than assured. If they could take that same self-belief into then they’d have a cracking chance of making the final. 

They’ll need to hold their nerve though, and keep going for it even if things aren’t going their way, seeing as in the one match they lost, they were blown away from the start and struggled to recover. If they have learned from that defeat then they’ll keep buzzing without hesitation, but that’s easier said than done.

In this match they were under basically no pressure, as it took until -5 plays 90 for Jesus to get up and running, and only then at a very slow pace. The game was over by the halfway stage, with Trinity 155 points clear, and though they didn’t ease up, Jesus start buzzing again, knowing that it doesn’t really matter if they get penalties anymore. Jesus pass fifty, smashing the ignominity that would have brought them, and Trinity pass 250, meaning that at the gong, the Cambridge side had been involved in the three highest scoring quarter final matches.

Final Score: Trinity, Cam 285 - 75 Jesus, Ox

WIth this match over, we now had the semi-final lineup confirmed:

Corpus Christi, Cam vs Durham

Imperial vs Trinity, Cam

Jesus’ defeat meant that this was the first year since 2007 that no Oxford college had made the last four. That year there were no Cambridge teams in the semis either, remarkably, as Warwick beat Manchester in the final.

[forsakentoast]

Unanswered Prayers

A tiny mass shivered in the cold waters under the moonlight as a small waterfall trickled lazily, signaling the start of winter. The temperature dropping as the moon continue to rise in the darkened sky.

It had been long hours since Wild had been in the waters. Skin that was submerged in water became wrinkly. Ever since he regressed into a child, he had been banned from doing his excessive training exercises by the other Links. It had been a constant struggle to do them behind their backs, as he was always caught. He could not relax like they told him too. It had to be some ploy; a trick to catch him in weakness.

In the days that he was not able to train, he was forced to pray and beg to the goddess for more strength. He would endure long hours of prayer, under constant vigilance that he did not fall asleep. For if he did, repercussions would be delivered and he would be scorned to bare the label of failure; unpleasing to the eyes of the goddess.

Wild was constantly reminded that Hylia never answered prayers from children with wicked hearts. Or he would get told that his dedication was insignificant in the eyes of the goddess. How could she answer the prayers of someone who could barely keep their eyes open after an intense day? To Wild’s father, it was despicable. How dare his son not have energy to dedicate to the one who gave Wild a purpose?

Wild would always flinch back when his father would tell him how he must never care for his family. It was his fault that Hylia seemed to forsake his family. His mother was sick and his sister was on the brink of death. And Wild immediately left to go pray.

For two days straight, Wild prayed.

And he prayed with all his might.

The child sacrificed all his energy into prayer. He neglected his training and knew the consequence of that action, yet he prayed. He begged for Hylia to answer his prayer and heal his mother and sister. He begged for her not to forsaken them for his own foolish mistakes.

He promised that he would take the proper measures to ensure that Hylia would receive the same dedication he demonstrated with his training.

On the second night, Wild received an answer to his prayers when his mother touched his shoulder and guided him back home slowly.

To his bed.

Gentle caresses and warm kisses were what he felt as sleep took him under.

Sleep did not last long as warmth was soon replaced by the cold morning. His father’s gruff voice commanded he awaken and quickly be on his way.

Hylia seemed to have mercy on him as his father did not give him punishment for neglecting his training when taking two days off to pray. Wild began to believe it was finally time the goddess recognized his dedication.

But it was short lived. With the sleep deprived from praying, Wild could not help but slack a bit in training. He failed to block an attack that caused him to fall back and drop his wooden weapon.

Feeling a bit dazed, he quickly shook his head and looked to his father.

A cold, distant gaze was given as he walked away, signaling for Wild to follow.

Wild had to stop his ears from drooping as he quickly picked himself up and followed his father.

---

Cries could be heard echoing in the training grounds as Wild prayed out to the goddess. His father beating him, asking the goddess what he did to deserve such an incompetent son.

In between his cries, Wild begged to the goddess to help end this.

But it was silent.

He changed his pleas to have Hylia give him endurance.

That, too, fell on deaf ears.

Wild felt himself slipping and slowly, everything became dark and silent.

----

Wild could not have been happier to learn that someone else was having issues with the goddess answering prayers. Princess Zelda was subjected to the same intensity of praying.

He studied her more as both children were sent off to go pray in the Spring of Power, by order of the king. It was decreed that the princess and the one chosen by the sword redeem the blessings of their predecessors and find grace in Hylia.

The ride to the spring became a bit uneventful.

During the ride, Wild could not help but notice the tired state of the princess. Despite being in regal dressing, shining in royal glory, the princess’ face did not reflect such glow. Her face was pale, blotches of red painted her cheeks and eyes were red. Her green eyes were not lively. In fact, the dark bags under her eyes could not be ignored.

She looked so somber. So sad. So much like Wild when his reflection caught his attention.

The halting of the carriage had signaled their arrival.

Quickly getting himself out, Wild extended his arm to help the princess down.

It was taken so gingerly.

Zelda’s eyes shone with life for a brief moment until they were snuffed out as she gazed towards the entrance of the spring.

Zelda led the way as Wild fell a couple paces behind her. The guards left the children to find the way themselves, as they were not permitted to follow.

Taking a deep breath, Zelda went in. Both children disappearing behind the hanging vines.

Finding their own little changing stations behind the grand pillars, both Zelda and Wild did quick work in undressing and dressing, emerging behind the pillars in pure whites.

Small, tired smiles were exchanged between them as Zelda gingerly linked her arm with Wild’s.

The water was cold, but they continued going in. Cramps were threatening to form, but neither child payed mind.

Prayers were uttered. Tears were silently falling.

Zelda would beg to Hylia to bless her and help her unlock her sleeping powers. To not let her fail but succeed just like her mother and her mother’s mother and so on and so forth. To grant her grace and endurance.

Wild tried to hold in his tears as he prayed to Hylia for him to succeed. For him to be mighty and strong like the heroes who wielded the sword before him. Pleas were given as he uttered prayers of protection for those dear to him.

Again, all was silent.

As the day gave into night and the waters began to get cold, both children began to feel their strength sapped. Zelda was on the verge of passing out. Small shivers would ripple the waters but cease suddenly as the princess went under the water.

Acting quickly, Wild dove to retrieve her.

Zelda was weak. Tears spilled from her eyes as she felt the weight of her failure. She quickly stopped herself from full out crying. All was silent, except for the sniffling.

Lips blue and skin pale, both children got out from the water.

Turning one last time, Zelda and Wild looked at the goddess statue.

She had eyes but did not see their suffering.

Ears but did not hear their desperate pleas and prayer.

A mouth but no words of comfort or confirmation left those lips.

Hands and feet but no motion to move and hug the two who suffered.

Regardless, they bowed and gave their respects as they swore to continue to pray for blessings.

Surely, Hylia would answer the prayers of Hyrule’s most dedicated disciples.

----

Wild felt so cold. He hands were wrinkled and his body shivered. Still, prayers left his lips as teeth chattered and lips began getting a blue hue.

He was interrupted when he felt someone pluck him out of the water and warmth enveloped him once more.

It took him a couple seconds to realize that he was wrapped up in a fur cloth.

“Cub!”

Groggy eyes looked at the one who called out to him.

“Cub!”

He felt gentle caresses on his cheek.  A warm embrace.

“M-mom?”

Finally forcing the sleep out of his mind, Wild came to realize that it wasn’t his mother but Twilight.

Worry was etched on his features as his eyes were washed with relief.

“Oh Wild!”

Another embrace was given as Wild felt he was given too much love. He shouldn’t. He failed. He should be punished for his failures.

A small sob escaped Wild as he asked, “Why?”

Confused, Twilight pulls back and stares as Wild. “Why what cub?”

“Why are you loving me? Aren’t you mad?”

“Mad? No! I would never. Wh-”

“Time, Hyrule, and Four are injured, Twi! I… I failed in securing a blessing of protection for us all!”

Wild began to shake as tears began to bunch at the brim “Please! Let me continue to pray! I-” he started to cry as the dam broke

Twi’s heart broke in two as he held the distressed child.

Wild miserably failed in stopping his full on sobs. “B-big br-broth...er, why w-won’t th-the g-godde-es answer m-me? A-am I… not… good en-ough?”

He clung to Twilight’s cloak as he tried to breath in mouthfuls of air. He was getting tired. Exhaustion seeped into his bones as sleep began to drag him down.

“Just once… I want the goddess to… answer my prayers… Just once.”

And he fell asleep. Small hand lost its grip, but strong arms hugged the small body close.

All was silent.

All was calm.

The cries of the young boy fell not on the ears of the goddess, but on a mortal. A simple Hylian who would fight the world to make it safe for his beloved cub.

[feywildatheart]

Saram-Devon,

Elyn told me I should write to you about my new bow, and of course she’s right (although I daresay she’d do better at it than I; she understands magic and its workings a far sight better than I do).

Have you heard Ren singing the Ballad of Perrick Starstriker? We happened upon them singing it one day while we were on Nosirion-1, but I can’t know if it’s something that they do often enough that you might have happened upon them at it as well. And in any case, I recall they were singing it in Halfling, when we did, so perhaps you might not know, even if you had heard it.

Perrick is a heroine, a legend amongst halflings. I grew up on my mothers’ knees, hearing them trading tales of her stepping out into the cosmos, singing her ballad with them, jumping from rock to branch in the forests of the Feywild and pretending to be her. And, well, Honion is a halfling planet, and of course HASAI in turn is staffed by many of my kind, so I suppose it should only make sense that they’ve grown up hearing the same tales I have, idolizing her the same way I did. It only makes sense that, when they set out to craft and enchant a magical bow, they’d take their inspiration from her. And yet, finding it felt like being given an unexpected breath of air while drowning in a tempest of the unfamiliar and unwelcoming. We had a very difficult, and several times very frightening, fight through HASAI and into the Hall of Voices, and finding this bow felt like a lifeline thrown to me, a reminder of home and family, of gentler times and kinder places and the people who love me, and whom I love in return. That was at least as much of a boon as its enchantment is.

It is powerfully enchanted, though I think you’ll need to turn to someone else for more of the details about that, for I haven’t yet had the opportunity to use many of the abilities the scientists crafted into it. But it’s lovely, too — I’ll attach a picture of it, so you can see, and if you’d like me to pass on any questions about its enchantments to the scientists who crafted it, know that I would be more than happy to.

I’m glad that Elyn suggested I write to you, for I’ve been meaning to for a while, only I’ve been trying to get my thoughts in order before committing them to a letter. But I suppose you will just have to have my thoughts as they are, jumbled and messy, and probably far more true to life, and to me, for being that way.

We were on Veled Kerverion recently, and while we were there Pika took it upon herself to find a tutor for me in manners and etiquette. It ended up not being quite so terrifying as I expected — I was expecting a second Pika, I suppose, but the woman was as kind and patient as you could hope a teacher would be, and when we’d done, she asked me if I had any questions for her. I didn’t have any for myself, but I thought— well, you asked me for advice not that long ago, and I did my best to give you some that I thought would be helpful, but I’m far from knowledgeable about these sorts of things, as I think we all know. And here I had an expert at hand, willing to answer me whatever I liked, and so I asked her the same questions you asked me, that day on the observation tower.

And so, here are the answers she gave me, as best as my memory can recall them: She said that being as gracious as much as you can is never a bad way to go, and that if you’re polite and you’re trying to be kind and respectful, that people will give you quite a bit of leeway. She recommended listening and paying attention, and finding a confidante who knows the rules that you don’t, who can give you advice and answer your questions. (I hardly think I count for that, I’m afraid. Sometimes I feel I’m only half an adult. My moms taught me how to navigate the rings of the Feywild, and how not to offer grave insult to a member of the fey court, but for those who don’t fall within those rather narrow categories, I feel as much at sea as you do. Still — should you find yourself in the Feywild someday, or conversing with a faerie queen, I’m your girl.)

She also said what I think you already know, which is that you’ll learn the rules of a place through exposure and time. She said that if you’re willing to wait and to participate even when it’s perhaps uncomfortable or even terrifying, that you’ll eventually start to learn and internalize the rules the same way that those around you once had to do, and that what once seemed impossible to figure out will start to sem more and more natural.

Now— that was her advice, and I can’t say I know enough on the matter to speak otherwise. And if what you want is to fit in, then I daresay her advice will likely hold you in good stead. But I will say, from one outsider to another — there can be merit in letting others change to accommodate who you are, just as much as you change for them.

You are wonderful just as you are, Devon. You are clever and talented and brave, and you’ve gained the affection of the three of us by being who you are, not by being who we expect you to be — whatever that might be. And anyone who’s worth anything will want that from you, and for you. Let others meet you halfway, and work to teach you what you need to know just as much as you work to learn it. I know the Yeruses made you think that you owe something to the people who help you in exchange for that aid, but you don’t. There’s a difference between expressing gratitude and feeling as though your very existence places you in debt to those around you. You are not difficult to be around, Devon, and the pleasure of your company is your own reward.

Learn the rules of a place, if it will make you happier and make things easier. But let yourself be strange, too. You’ll be surprised the number of people who will accept it without missing a beat. You’ll be surprised how people can value it.

There, now I’ve probably given you advice that will appall both my teachers. But I stand by it, and I like you as you are too much to see you try to shave pieces of yourself off to try to fit someone else’s mold. The truth is, some of us might do better at camouflaging it than others, but we’re all strange in our own way. There’s no harm in it, and no shame in it.

She’s not wrong, though, about finding a confidante you can trust. You know I — and Elyn and Pika, of course — am always happy to hear from you, and whatever thoughts might be weighing on your mind, and to offer what advice and suggestions we can. But we are a very long way away, at the moment, and don’t always reliably have LICD signal. I would hate to find out that you needed our guidance in a moment where we were unable to provide it in a timely manner. So I think it’s worth reminding you of what I hope you already know, which is that Lorraine is your ally, and can be that confidante, if you’re willing to trust her.

I can’t claim to know what you’re going through. I’ve never experienced its like, and can only imagine how I might feel in your place. I hope that my worries for you are in vain, and that the struggles you were facing in adjusting to your new circumstances have been relegated to the past, if only because it’s my fondest wish that you might know what it’s like to have a guardian who cares for you, and who will fight and advocate for you, and who you care for in return. But there’s no shame in it, if things are still strange or awkward or uncomfortable.

I’ve been thinking a little, lately, about how there’s no word in any of the languages I know that’s like Asar, acknowledging someone who has taken responsibility for you. Sylvan has its own names for parents, and a great deal more of them than Common does. Did I ever tell you much about my moms? I call them cyllaneth, which in Sylvan means ‘the mother that carried me’, and darnaneth, which means ‘the mother that waited for me’, and there’s no equivalent to either name in Common. Common doesn’t name or acknowledge the different types of mothers one can have, and so they aren’t valued in the way that they are in Sylvan, for their own strengths and their own contributions.

I don’t know that I have a point here, exactly. I’m not like Pika’s tutor, knowledgeable and serene in that knowledge, and confident in my ability to dole out advice to others. I hardly even know what I’m doing myself, half the time. But when you have been raised to think of a mother as one kind of thing, I think perhaps it can be helpful to know that those definitions are not universal, and that mothers can be many sorts of things, and that there can be many different ways to be a mother. A mother can be someone who carries you in their body, next to their heart, and births you into the world. A mother can be someone who doesn’t, who waits for you to come, who watches you grow within another’s body and protects you both. A mother can be someone whose only connection to you is through genetic material she donated to someone who proved to be unworthy of that gift, but who still was willing to fight for your freedom and your happiness, when she learned you were being ill-treated. A mother can be someone who is willing to give you up, even though she wants desperately to welcome you into her family, if that’s what would give you the greatest chance of finding happiness.

Love is a gift, not an obligation, and you don’t owe Lorraine anything for what she’s done for you, or how she cares about you. You don’t owe her your labor, and you don’t owe her your affection. If the only sort of mothering your language acknowledges is that of a mother who carries you and raises you, who loves you and who you love in return, then it’s easy to think you might be expected to play-act that relationship, even when your mother is someone you’ve only just met, and don’t know at all. If I have any advice to give you, it’s that — there are as many ways to be a mother as there are mothers themselves, and you don’t need to try to force your relationship into someone else’s mold, to fit someone else’s idea of what it ought to be. There’s value in it just as it is, for what it is. It doesn’t need to be anything other than what it is, and you don’t need to be anything other than who you are, either.

I don’t know if any of this will help you. I don’t know if any of it is useful at all. But I hope it is. I hope you’re making a place for yourself on Nosirion-1. I hope you’re happier than you were.  I hope you know how many people care for you, and would move the stars themselves to see to it that you are.

If you need anything at all, we are only a LICD-message away. Squirt sends you lots of licks.

Love,

Maliah