Welcome to Gaia! ::

Universe:
Sauron slays Celebrimbor
Celebrimbor reincarnated as Alcar
Brenn pwns Haldir
(Tyr blackmails Glorfindel)

Omg Dji I found these. SO CUTE. I want to RP this universe plzzzzz! WHAT happened in the fourth age?

Meldenya anyáran,

I will not have very much time to write over the next… oh, dear, I don’t know how long. We’re going on a journey and we leave Imladris first thing tomorrow morning. That’s Glorfindel, Tir, Estel Aragorn the Ranger, Gandalf, Legolas of Mirkwood, Haldir of Lothlorien, Gímli the dwarf and Geroin his cousin, Boromir of Gondor and myself. What a diverse group, and so many strangers! I have never seen anything like it. I am glad Glorfindel, Tir, and Estel Aragorn will be coming. I just hope they do not mind that I stick close. I’ve been nothing but polite to the two dwarves and their friends that came for the council, but already they give me unfriendly looks. Elladan said I should share some of my music with them and try to get them to sing along in order to make friends. But he was just joking. I hope.

Speaking of music, I’m not allowed to bring along any of my instruments. It does make sense. They could get very heavy and I would not want any of them to get damaged, either. But the other restrictions were quite ridiculous. I understand the need to move quickly and quietly (Glorfindel’s lecture took care of that) but why can I only bring one bar of soap? Why not four? Why not two? And am I to be expected to use bar soap on my hair, as well? Everyone knows that dries it out. I offered to trade my shoes for a bottle of shampoo, but Es Aragorn won’t let me. He says I am jeopardizing the fellowship if I don’t take my shoes. I don’t think he realizes that me dying of mortification will jeopardize the fellowship even more. But back to the subject at hand. I don’t know what I will do when my lone bar of soap runs out.

Now I will What’s that?

I can’t believe it! Glorfindel just came in here and said I had to go to bed. Checking up on me like an elfling! I told him I was well aware of the indecent hour were are leaving in the morning. He said good, then I would not waste time before going to sleep. I was going to ask whether he planned on going to sleep as soon as he got back to his room, and if Tir knew of that arrangement as well. But that would have been very, very rude of me. And besides, he was gone by then anyway.

Well, I guess I’ll sleep now.



Rhîw 60, 3019
Meldenya anyáran,

We are in Lothlorien. Beautiful cannot describe this place fully; it is wonderful beyond all account. The trees are like towers and the elves are old, full of not just stories but exciting experiences. I could sit for hours listening to them. In only the first few days I’ve been here, I’ve gathered so much song material my head might burst. Every path is an invitation to something new and heart-stirring. Every moonlight dappled glade is inspirational.

But do not think I’ve done nothing but wander around in a stupefied fog. There are elves here closer my age, too. Haldir introduced me to them. They are strange in their ways. They told me I was strange to them, also. They were rather…wild. They liked to run and jump and hurl themselves from high rocks into pools with all their clothes on, yelling like madpeople. And they would burst into play fighting with wooden practice swords at random moments. I admit, I liked them. It was very thoughtful of Haldir to do that when he saw Glorfindel and Tir had gone off by themselves, and the rest of the fellowship were otherwise occupied without me.

But so much has happened! I could write about the marvels of Lorien all day. Haldir says, after the war is over, I must visit him here. He wants to show me the wood properly, when there is plenty of time to enjoy it…

The first thing I learned about traveling is that it’s exhausting! Exhausting, and dirty. But foremost exhausting. My first real encounter with either of the dwarves came on the third night this way, when my turn to watch came. Let it be known that I have never had to stand (or sit) on watch at night in the middle of the wilderness in my entire life. I could feel my head drooping like a heavy weight, and I blinked until I thought I was going to be dizzy. To my extreme chagrin, Gimli was not yet asleep. And he saw me. And, worse, he was coming over. I thought he was going to reprimand me in some way, or be scornful. I could hear Ri telling me to be careful! Be careful! It does not like dwarves, I think. But all Gimli said was something about not being able to sleep. It was useless to have two sitting up, he said. ‘But you were on watch last night,’ I told him. I feared he was lying for my sake. As of writing this, I know he certainly was. He insisted on me going to sleep. ‘It’s a trick!’ Ri told me. But I did not care. I did not even feel my head hit the blanket.

In the morning, I offered him my second biscuit. He did not refuse.

It did get better after that, the strains of traveling. When that pathetic bar of soap ran out, Tir gave me shampoo and a comb (I’d broken my first comb by sitting on it), teeth cleaner, a nail file, things he calls ear swabs, and these useful little hand wipes that come in individual paper packages. I cannot figure out how they stay moist. I suppose it’s the foil-stuff on the inside of the paper, although I’ve never seen metal pressed so thin, and used for such a purpose. I have all the empty packages from the wipes I’ve used at the bottom of my pack so I can look at them later.

So I came to know the others in our fellowship well, very soon after that. Gandalf and Glorfindel and Tir and Aragorn were trying to decide our course around a landslide at the base of Redhorn Pass. Everyone scouted around for half the morning with no success, and so those four were back to discussing again. The rest of us had nothing to do. Somehow, Legolas got it in his head to teach me archery. Even with both he and Haldir coaching, I was awful. Geroin made a huge target out of his axe and some woven branches and leaves, and we persuaded Boromir to run after arrows. Even Gimli watched and called pointers, which Legolas or Haldir would quickly tell me not to pay attention to, and then there would be a good-natured argument concerning technique that Legolas always won. That was one of my favorite afternoons, I think. It was good for us all to have it. We pressed on late that evening and camped on the other side of the landslide. From then on, it was hard and cold going.

After all our trouble, the Redhorn Pass proved—well, impassable. Gandalf said we had to go through the lost dwarven stronghold of Moria. Except he did not tell us he knew it might be lost until we got there.

I hated Moria.

Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever again will I go into a place like that. We were only allowed to have light when we were moving. And though everyone agreed we did not want to stay in one place for very long, we were still forced to rest, and then we would be engulfed in darkness. There was no light anywhere. Nothing. I never knew I could miss starlight so much. I could not tell whether it was night or day, morning or evening.

When we did move, I knew I saw eyes glinting at me from just beyond the range of our torches. This happened more than once.

Did I mention never, ever, ever again?

We lost Gandalf in that terrible place. Everyone is devastated. I am devastated. I do not know what we will do without him. Aragorn is our leader now. What will he decide? And what will that mean for me, Ri, and the others?

Elbereth, watch over Gandalf.

----

Names?
Alcarorë - Brilliant Spirit/Radiant Heart
Calamorë - Shining Black/Black Shine
Ri (Rithil) - Ring
Laurië Nyello - Golden Singer

----

“When you look at me, what do you see?”

Glorfindel will answer the question seriously, if Tyr insists. >.> Does not know why Tyr suddenly needs reassurance right now. He worries. He does not want Tyr to be insecure about his looks. Since WHEN is Tyr insecure, about his looks least of all?

“When I look at you, I see a very special person on the inside. He has flaws and he has weaknesses, but strengths also, huge strengths. He is… the most loving elf I have ever known, resourceful… infinitely loyal. He works harder and trains longer than anyone should, and has done so most of his life. He strives to meet expectations no one on any earth should be able to meet, and he nearly makes it. He thinks…that he must be perfect in the ruthless ways that were defined for him…when in fact he will never be. When he is angry, he looks like he could spur the ending of the universe with his power and rage alone. But when he is happy…that is when I love you most, Tyr.”

(omg that was so sappy but <3)

Cellar c1oor (10:54:56 PM): Of Alcar, one night, when they've returned to the talan. Is in the corner of his room although the door is open. Lays half against the wall on his bed, cradling SOME stringed instrument in his lap. His fingers run lazily and effortlessly over the strings, producing random, quiet melodies, each one blending into the next. His eyes are half closed.
Cellar c1oor (10:54:57 PM): >D
Cellar c1oor (10:55:08 PM): PEACEFUL
DjibrilShadow (10:55:11 PM): XD
DjibrilShadow (10:55:18 PM): and my image is of Brenn.
DjibrilShadow (10:55:39 PM): charcoal stick in hand from a piece of wood he burnt in the fire.
DjibrilShadow (10:55:46 PM): parchment in OTHER hand
DjibrilShadow (10:55:49 PM): sketching scenes
DjibrilShadow (10:55:50 PM): XD
DjibrilShadow (10:56:10 PM): like.. bird in flight against a sky, (with lacy charcoal clouds)
DjibrilShadow (10:56:42 PM): buildings are what Brenn likes drawing
DjibrilShadow (10:56:44 PM): not Lorien

Brenn’s hand is drawing, and it just finishes a bird. Bird then moves and flies by, close up with camera following, and then zoom out onto charcoal cityscape…cityscape ‘fades’ into real, colored scape..



It was BEFORE they left Lorien. The very same day, though. While Brenn was packing? And Alcarore was on his way back from saying goodbye to younger friends. Haldir met him. “A moment, Alcar?” Alcar nods.

Haldir is…hesitant, almost, in his manner. “How have you enjoyed Lorien?” he asks.

Alcar is o.O? Then biggrin ! “Very much. I don’t know if I should make a habit saying this, but I wish I could come back and spend just a little bit more time. As it is, I have learned many things, and I thank you for inviting me.”

Haldir smiles. “It was my pleasure,” he says. “But you know, I would like nothing more than for you to come back. Alcar…”

“Yes?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yes.”

“I care very much for you. Do not think that just because you are out of sight, I am not thinking about you.”

Alcar is WARM. BUT. Still…is slightly confused now. GETTING VIBES THAT HE HAS NEVER FELT BEFORE.

Haldir goes on, “I want you to do something.” He gently touches Alcarore’s cheek and then drops his hand. “Promise yourself to no one until next we meet.”

Alcar is O.O?! UNDERSTANDS NOW. AND. THEN Haldir says, “Enough of that. Now I will draw you a map so you don’t get lost.”

AND. SAYS NOTHING MORE ABOUT IT. They say goodbye. And soon Alcar and Brenn leave. @_@



‘Dear Brenn,
The things you sent me are some of the most wonderful I have ever seen. I love them, truly I do. But I cannot accept such valuable gifts. I would never be able to repay you. I am leaving them all right here. Take them, please.’

‘Dear Brenn,

How are you? I missed you when I was in Lorien! They do not have the christmas festival there, you know. I could not remember which day it was, but I still thought of you over the winter and I made you something. It is not very good. I hope Tir can get it to you along with the letter.

Why did your job take you away? Tir said it could be permanent—is that true? I hope you can visit Rivendell when you get a break. You’ll promise to try, won’t you?

Cala is huge now. He really can’t stay in my room anymore but I don’t know what to do with him.

Sincerely,
Alcar.’

(Wtf why was this in the file?)

Glorfindelness (6:00:27 PM): HE COULD FIGHT A FRICKEN GIANT WITH NOTHING MORE THAN A COTTON PUFF AND DENTAL FLOSS. AND WIN.

Meldenya anyáran,

I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. But I just know it. He is right for me. The chill in the air this morning marked the ending of summer. However, I don’t mind. All of Brenn’s festivals are in the autumn and winter. Brenn. Brenn! Brenn. Brenn. Brenn.

rofl rofl rofl domokun

Imagine a little flower. An ickle fragile little flower, and of a sudden it is swept up into great 300 mile per hour winds howling round and round in a wild frenzy that has no calm eye and no end, or escape, in sight. The flower is inevitably ripped into tiny little shreds. ANY normal elf, human or other being would be ripped into tiny little shreds. Drizzt, Zaknafein, Cattie-brie, and even small unnoticeable Halflings like Regis would have been one way or another destroyed in the storm.

But Jarlaxle isn't normal. Jarlaxle isn't fair.

"Check one, double-check." Tap, tap.

"Check two...double-check." A deft finger flicked the headset once more.

"Check three..."

Jarlaxle FLOURISHED.

He sat just now in a chair in Djibril's kitchen. It had taken him more time than he counted on to find it because of the room swapping, but not all that much longer---apparently Dji, who relied on takeout food 70% of the time (almost all of the time when he was not there, and before they'd met) did not hold as much stock in her kitchen as in her treasuries. Frankly, Jarlaxle would have put HIS kitchen in the most impenetrable place POSSIBLE. With dragons. Yes, if he had them. And, IF once penetrated, it would be the most secure place in the establishment.

Coincidently, Jarlaxle deemed the kitchen the most secure in Djibril’s. For him. The ex-rogue had improved on it, of course.

His big boots were propped up on the table, crossed, one heel comfortably over the crook of the other. They had an unnecessary number of buckles (one dull golden one was even attached to a strap that went nowhere at all except completely around mid sole) and a definitely necessary number of shinies. Some were the old classics. Some were new shinies. The boots seemed to have an endlessly rotating inventory.

“Check fourteen---double-check,” he told the long arm of microphone positioned below his lips, in drow. He waited for the blips of voice to return to him. Good. Fourteen groups. No less than fourteen handpicked male fighters in each group.

…he liked it when things turned out even that way.

The dark elf tilted his chin to look at the OTHER presence in the room. She wasn’t much company, though. The young priestess of the first house was tied up. And gagged. And half naked. And unconscious.

Jarlaxle shifted back towards the table again. He fiddled with his headset’s channel. “Any sign of Djibril yet?”

‘Nosign.’

Arg. If she didn’t realize she was being attacked and show up soon, he might just have to beep her. THAT would be disappointing and anti-climactic.

(Wtf WHY DID WE NOT RP THIS? -randomly found @_@-)

o.o?