Nothing is True. Everything is Connected.
Author: <span>Nicolaus Meridius</span>

Coffee House Friday

Sylum's Coffee House Image


So it seems my scheduling for posts at times have gone wonky.  Like the post didn’t post when it should’ve *glares at wordpress*

And of course it’s me three days later looking over my notes going ‘wait…’ 

I will always try to get the post up at some point, but there are times going to miss a day.

While I have y’all – got any good ideas for posts?

Moon Day


*AWWOOOOO* Howls at the Moon!

So it’s Moon Day.  Sadly most of the time I was prepping this post all I had in my head ‘That’s no moon that’s a space station’.

Seriously, my brain these days.

Sylum Inspiration: Carlos Alvarez

Vampire Council: Spy Network

 

Carlos (Cougar as he prefers) doesn’t talk much about his past. He was one of the youngest in his family, and though very deeply religious didn’t have the personality for priesthood. As he was good with a bow and arrow, he set out for a life as a mercenary.

He traveled through small towns and villages, entering into a variety of tournaments, living on prize money and a few jobs he acquired.

It was at one of the Tournaments that he met Robin for the first time. The archer had bested him, taking away the prize money he desperately needed. He bowed graciously then moved on, only to go up against the same man in the next competition.

He finally confronted him, no one was that good!  Robin told him he was a Vampire, Cougar felt vindicated that Robin wouldn’t have beat him if it was fair.

Robin Turned him two days later to prove Carlos’ theory wrong.

Sylum Charity: Khumbu Climbing Center


As mentioned in the Qumolangama snippet on the last day of Seven Days – this is the Khumbu Climbing School. 

It has a larger part in the finished story, but I did want to highlight it for his month’s charity.

***

High in the Himalayas of Nepal near the beaten track to Everest, there is a humble pastoral village called Phortse that is perched among the clouds. You may not see it if you trek up the precipitous path more traveled, past Tangboche Monastery and beneath the breathtaking pyramid of Ama Dablam. But look to your left, across the gaping gorge of the Dud Kosi river and you will see a terraced knoll dotted with stone structures. It is there in the shadow of the holy peak, Khumbila, above a quiet birch forest that the Khumbu Climbing Center found a home.

The Khumbu Climbing Center (KCC) was launched in 2003 and over the past fifteen years has become a successful vocational program for indigenous people. Each winter for two weeks, technical climbing skills are taught along with English language, mountain safety, rescue, and wilderness first aid. Dr. Luanne Freer, who oversees the Everest base camp ER, attests that KCC skills and knowledge are saving lives at the roof of the world. Nearly one thousand Nepali men and women have now attended KCC since its inception.

In the beginning, our instructors were qualified western climbers and guides who had experience in the Himalaya. Most of the teachers are now Nepali but we continue to have a small Western team travel to KCC each season. They often include National Park rescue rangers and professional guides who generously offer their time and expertise. They pay their own way or get sponsorship to give of themselves to the Sherpa community. We at KCC are deeply indebted.

For More Information: Khumbu Climbing Center

Sylum Inspiration: Jonathon Clavier

Vampire Council: Spy Network

 

Jonathon was born in Paris, France. His has few memories of his mother, just that she had a soft smile, dark curls, and always wore a pale blue dress to Mass.  He was eight when she died.

He grew up learning to be a Blacksmith, having his father’s larger build. By sixteen he could wield a hammer easily and had the ability to create more than horseshoes and wheels.

When his father was killed for the few coins in his purse, Jonathon closed his father’s shop and by a twist of fate, became an Inspector. His strength and cunning moved him up the ranks as an Inspector.

He met his wife, Maria, who was a waitress in a bar.  She had green eyes, blonde hair, and was wearing a pale blue dress. He kept coming back and ordering a drink, until she finally stopped serving him, demanding he respect the uniform he wore and do his job. He laughed, pulling her into his lap and whispering that he was there only for her.

A few months later they were married.

A year later she announced she was pregnant. Jonathon was worried with the way society was starting to decay, but trusted her beyond reason. She never recovered from the birth, and slipped away quietly when his son was a few weeks old.

He raised his son, Arnaud, as best as he could, making sure the boy had an education that she would be proud of.  When Arno was eight, he was dragged back to their home by a fellow Inspector, stating that the boy had picked his pocket.

Jonathon looked at his boy, ‘I thought I told you not to pick pocket fellow Inspectors’. It was the beginning of his friendship with Javert.

In 1789 his life changed.

He watched in horror as his son was dragged up to the Guillotine. He yelled at the soldiers to stop, the mob to stop, but no one listened – the scream of agony rocked through the square in front of the Notre Dame Cathedral.

A few days later, Javert pulled his drunk ass out of the of the gutter and Turned him.

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