The Doorway: a panfandom game

I wish to learn to shoot the thing you call 'gun.' I have only one hand, however, and so I want to know what difficulty I will have with this endeavor. I am also left handed, by necessity, as the right is missing.

I am a soldier in all things. I think it is best to learn a new skill, as you find fighting with a sword and shield to be outdated. Though I do not think I will have reason to fight in this place. I simply enjoy learning.

I think that I need to acquire such weapons in order to practice with them, but I know nothing of them, or what would be good for my purposes. In Beleriand is it not illegal to carry weapons. Aye, you would be stupid not to and likely end up dead for your idiocy if you go without. But New York City has very different laws and I am not very familiar with many of them. The Google yields results, but I am not sure I trust the information I read.

I am bored. I have nothing to do. I am not used to this.

I am a fighter, a soldier, a King of the Eldar, yet here I am expected to be quiet and spend my time doing things that entertain Men.

I am not of the Edain. Different things catch my interest.

And a city of noise and smoke that is disconnected from everything to do with beauty and nature is not one of them.

Tch. I have no wish to live in a world of Men.

[Filtered; Fingon]
I am sorry about your brother. But be comforted knowing he goes to a time of peace for Gondolin. As for his grandson, it was his duty to return to the stars.

His errand was never-ending.



I hope... that he bore the silmaril with him.

[/]

[Filtered; Maglor]
Stay with Kano and I tonight.

[/]

[Filtered to Maedhros]

Where are you?

[Maglor has accidentally turned on his webcam by bumping his laptop and is broadcasting himself to the network, playing his harp.

Sounds like this:]

After that non-stop Shakespeare thing, I really miss acting. Brandon's mom was helping us get jobs for a while, but being here is so different and I'm not really sure how there'd be a place for me too. But I guess I don't have to be a star here. NYC has enough going on that I should blend in without much of a problem with my double's career. I'm still wondering if she'd be willing to have me as a body double, but I'm not brave enough to ask.

Thanks to everyone who tagged along to the Shakespeare thing, by the way! Check mark on that bucket list item. Next up is NYC Pride Week in June. I need to come up with something for May now, but all of my ideas involve traveling. I could fly to Paris, but I don't have the money for a hotel. Yet.

Anyway. So one thing I've noticed while being here is that I feel so guilty about not bring able to do more. I know I can't be there to help everyone, but I can't help feeling guilty anyway. I promised to do good things. But there's always something.

Filtered to Howard Stark:

A Dr. Pym that's not the one I know, and a Latino Tony, and still no best friend or siblings. What a strange week. Then again, that's every week. Did you see?

What is this horrible illness? If I were still a rabbit, I would think I suffered from the White Blindness yet I can see so it cannot be that. I feel as if there are a million small creatures beating the inside of my head with sticks.

I also keep doing this thing that I am told is called vomiting. I do not like it. How can I get rid of this?

To the one who offered to give me my hand back, I did not ask you your name, and for that I apologize. I am called Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol, but you might call me Maedhros.

I have considered your offer, and have very much decided that I should like to do it. Though, I am unsure how I shall go about regaining use of a hand I have not had in so long. Especially given that it is not indeed mine.

I have grown accustomed to being without it, after all. Five hundred years and it scarcely crosses my mind anymore. But I would like to be whole again.

And so, what should I expect? Will I feel my fingers? Will I know that it is there, or shall I only know it when I look at it?

What else do you need to know? Other than what I have told you.

The CDC has a lot of official recommendations for preventing the spread of seasonal flu. Let me give you the short version of their list:

1. If you're feeling sick, stay at home unless you're seeking medical attention. Nobody else wants to deal with you or get sick because of you.
2. Keep your hands clean, and keep them away from your mouth, nose, eyes, and other people.
3. If some asshole's ignoring #1 and sneezing and/or vomiting in your general vicinity, stay away from that person.
4. Get plenty of sleep, stay hydrated, and eat nutritious food.
5. It's possible to spread the virus for 5 to 7 days after symptoms subside. Even if you're feeling well, it's still possible for you to infect another person.

If you are sick and worried about your illness, it's better to visit your doctor sooner than later. Should you require additional attention or medical advice, don't hesitate to seek out a professional.

-LHM

[Filtered to Turgon]

Brother, I talk too much. I am sorry.

[Unfiltered]

I am lonely. And bored.

Entertain me.

There's a week and a half left until my birthday. You all better impress me.

I'll probably throw myself a party on the 26th, since Wednesday birthdays aren't really good for parties, so friends and anyone who wants to celebrate: keep it open!

It seems that I cannot speak to my brother without fighting with him. I do not mean for it to be so; I love my brother dearly.

It only seems that with him, I never know the correct thing to say.

Is this a typical problem with siblings?

Maitimo, you don't count. Fëanorians are born to fight with each other.

When you are standing at your hero's grave,
Or near some homeless village where he died,
Remember, through your heart's rekindling pride,
The German soldiers who were loyal and brave.

Men fought like brutes; and hideous things were done;
And you have nourished hatred harsh and blind.
But in that Golgotha perhaps you'll find
The mothers of the men who killed your son.

Reconciliation, Seigfried Sassoon. November, 1918.

It's a troubling thing to reconcile the fact that I am not the man I was before I went to war. That life, whatever it's troubles or glories, can never go back to the way it was. There is no return to innocence. Once we've eaten from the Tree of Knowledge, it is done. And knowledge can be a personally terrible thing. It means recognising bitter truths that we ignored before. It means knowing harm, knowing death and pain and the sight of flesh burned to bone. It means knowing that you've killed men barely old enough to not be considered boys.

And it's difficult. It's difficult to accept that you cannot return -- because it's what we so wish for. It's difficult to admit that it wasn't all just a nightmare. It's more difficult still to recognise that there is nothing wrong with speaking about how terror feels. We cannot, and shouldn't keep it to ourselves, and there isn't anything wrong with...crying, if we need to. Because we cannot go back, we cannot forget, and the road ahead is uneven and filled with jagged rocks.

I need a mechanic. Mine's in another world again, and it turns out those stupid automatic doors on the subway close a lot harder than I thought. Winry'd kill me if she saw the fingers on this thing. Kind of tired of running around with just one usable hand again.

And to think that my cousin sometimes thinks he is actually an adult.

"Ñoldor" is a strange name for a race of elves who lack all wisdom. More and more I begin to believe that any wisdom I have comes from my mother and my grandmother.

[OOC: Trigger warning, hazing]

You elves talk about desiring death because your souls are tired of trying to subsist in a world that doesn't totally understand you as it continues to self-destruct. I think Leoben understood that; I hope he finds peace on the other side.

I wish that this place had garden space. I'd kill everything because I'd go on a mission and forget about it and it would dry up just like that. But wouldn't it be really nice, in essence, to be able to grow some of our own stuff?

I think I got inspired when I went away this weekend because everything we ate was more or less grown on site and it tasted better than I ever remember anything tasting.

I envy your ability to die. That you may leave this place and all her cares behind. Whither do you go when you pass from this world? To what peace.

I envy your ability to die.

100 years you have, maybe a little more or less, but that is just one season of hurts, sorrows, pains and aye, joys and happiness. 100 years. I spent a quarter of it chained to a And then you are gone from this world and her life and her changes need bother or burden you no more. Under what circumstances do you go. Young or old, a soldier or civilian, creator or destroyer.

You go where none but Men can follow.

And yet the Eldar must linger on, through the centuries. Never changing but in mind only. Left to watch the world fall to ruin, and with each century that passes made to bear her burdens in memory and in body. I wonder if peace shall be found, that even when I pass from this world and return to waiting if I shall be free of it. I yearn for the gardens of Lórien.

I think I shall linger in Mandos for a millennium, and if after that I am reborn I shall stay in Lórien. I should like to sleep for the next age of this world, without dreams.

I envy your ability to die. But I think it is as Gwindor says, you may envy the fact that the Eldar shall not die. Gifts that cannot be shared. Indeed.

[Filtered; Fingon]
I feel lighter today than I have in four centuries. I do not expect it to last, so we must enjoy it while I am experiencing it.

I have a bottle of wine.

My brother has music. Let us disturb him this evening. I must make sure he has eaten anyway.

After much consideration, I have chosen to heed the recommendations of the healers in this world and allow them to perform what they feel will be a beneficial procedure. To have even a fraction of my old strength again would be most welcome, and, I believe, well worth the risk.

[ooc: I'm going to put a trigger warning on this just in case, since I know from personal experience that talk of surgery and physical therapy can be a bit difficult to stomach, even if it's only referenced a tiny bit.]

So I've got two announcements for you gents and ladies.

I've been in some talks with the folks over here at the Legion, (Post #398) because I thought we might get on well with those old boys and take up a few seats during their impromptu Jazz nights. With $5 beers and $8 dinners I really don't think a one of us should refuse -- so they're be expecting us to pop in from time to time. I know I plan to make it one of my usual haunts, no word of a lie.

Originally, I was thinking we could just go there for our Veterans nights, -- but, being a "refugee" and seeing that we're all from different backgrounds and battles, I though we ought to meet apart from the Legion, just so's we aren't imposing too much, and because I know not all of us fought in American wars.

With that in mind, I did some looking around, fell upon The Clover Club and thought that might be right for us. They take Reservations Sunday-Thursday, so I booked us in for April 11th.

Hope to see you.

Since the fees at the Marina are quickly depleting my funds, I've found myself a job giving tours of New York Harbor on my ship. Which...means I'm going to have to read up more on all the things in New York Harbor. But the company that hired me is going to be helping out with that, so it looks like I am going to have some reading to do.

Are people really willing to pay that much just for an hour on the water and some facts about the area? Amazing.

[Grandfather]

I hope this means I will be able to pay you back for some of what you've done for me since I arrived.

[Maedhros]

Would you and your brother like to see the harbor?

[Percy Jackson]

If you hear of any jobs in environmental cleanup, let me know, okay? I had to find something, but it does not mean that I want to do this forever. Thanks again.