Robin

Me, I'm Robin of Somerville, known on the Net as the character magic Rat. Back home, I was a woodland type (I believe that would make me Tulari) and I was a Scout. I have some general recollections about that service, but much of my personal memory of the place is disrupted by the trauma of the war and losing a lifemate. Currently I am trying to reconcile the "science-fictional" aspects of the memories I've had:

indication says I was a fighter pilot of some kind at at some point: a career I seem to have pursued here once the airplane was invented... The timeframe of this might be in doubt: coordinating with Sileniel's memories: it is unlikely I survived as a frenzied forest ranger for as long as it took between the time my lifemate was killed and the time we left: My recollection is not of being great at sorcery by any stretch: I was a warrior and tracker and shapeshifter...

Robin Intro Take Two -- After finding Lifemate!

I am Robin of Somerville, Adrastai, knight and protector of the lady Sileniel, Hound of the Hunt and Gil Enrai: a lengthy list of credentials for one who walked long and largely alone on a path from ancient conflicts to the modern day. My story, over the long view, is quite simple, the shamanic path that has brought me to something approaching the fullness of my legacy, too complicated to recount.

My story is retold through myth and story from ancient times, to any Mel Gibson movie: the soundtrack compiled from the sounds of bagpipers across the grey dawns of battlefields fallen silent: from Peter Murphy and Fields of the Nephilim: from Harlem Nocturne and American Patrol: from forester to elfin knight to samurai: to gunslinger to pilot of warplanes to police detective, there is no shortage of tales of silent wanderers nursing the pains of ancient losses: tragic failures long beyond repair: guided, perhaps, by some calling of Spirit or sense of destiny: all of these things shape the Story, the eternal thread of my Fae existence.

Perhaps it is inevitable that one who walks that path long enough... Who in spite of the deadly serious, often tragic Glamour of such a Story, Is in the Grand Scheme but a guard dog at the feet of the Lady... Through some implacable Grace, the whimsy that is Fae, and perhaps the divine Madness that comes of being honoured with the special attention of the Gods...

Becomes their own comic relief.
And so a Magic Rat was born.

Child of the Gods, officer in the Dream Police and moonlighter in a cartoon existence that makes tolerable all of this talk of cosmic balance, the struggle to rebirth the ancient ways, and all this other serious stuff that you'd have to be more than a little insane to dive into headlong without at least twirling your nightShtick on a lanyard as you walk your beat up and down the streets of Dream.

I spent a number of years in this life trying to Joke-Hold some Seeriousness into the online Pagan community: because surely the Life of the World demands that we put some Frey-on back in the Re-Frigg-jarator if the things of Spirit, like us, are to be a part of the human experience once again.

I've seen this American world from the afflluence of private school to the counterculture to outcast mendicancy: walked through identities like city blocks: sung up the subway lines of Boston while longing for the ancient Greenwood I once walked with the whole of my being; from deepest spiritual desolation to the height of ecstatic Communion... I've come through lifetimes of living in an alien world, and by the grace of the Lady and the guidance of Herne lived to touch the restoration of my greatest loss: my lifemate and family from those eons ago in another world, thought lost forever to me for so long, and yet whose memory spurred me forward like the horn of a black Unicorn...

Till now, at the time of rebuilding, of reclaiming and regrouping as our journey to that elusive place, or at least quality, of Home, begins in earnest. The King and royalty, and the ideals they stand for, which I served so long ago as a Ranger, live again in these people, and so surely the time of Renewal is at hand.

We have all learned much since that time when the world that was was torn from us: we stand now to put right in our own hearts that which once, long ago went awry: to regain that quality of simple joy which we held so easily in the best of our times.

We are Elves: and both grace and mirth are our birthrights: a strength eternal, which, though masked now, shall yet restore the seeds of the Dream we have kept dear through age upon age. Blessed Be.

Once on Earth, it seems I incarnated as Drestari until I got off the Wheel for a while after Feudal Japan. In this life I have been on a very shamanic path: largely of the spirit-warrior variety, though I've used my turn of phrase to good end, as well. I'm currently sworn to Sileniel's service. That's about all I can think of now. Des'tai, Robin


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Picture from the Londa Tarot deck
Intro by Robin

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