The Doorway: a panfandom game

My mother, my wife, and my oldest cousin were all born in the same year. Valian Years, we call them, or Years of the Trees. They are the only ones of their generation born that year, as elves do not have children in large numbers.

It is very curious to think about. The world of Men is not so different. I see many young couples, and many old couples, but also a large gap where the ages are distinctly different. My father was some 10 Valian Years older than my mother when they wed.

My wife was nearly 200 Valian Years old when we wed. I was very young. She is older than my mother.

Anyway. I suppose it isn't important and I cannot say what made me think of it, truly. It isn't so odd to elves.

I am only beginning to grasp the vaguest notion of how far medicine has come. Truly, there is no comparison. What might have wiped out entire villages is cured with a tablet smaller than a grape. Better than leeches at any rate.

As if that wasn't enough, I learned today that the earth revolves around the sun and not the other way around. Remarkable.

[Filtered; Glorfindel]
It would seem that the man whose child I watched has departed. And with him the babe. My time has suddenly become less occupied as such, and I might endeavor to take to the wilds with you and Legolas after all.

It will be good to get away from the city, I think.

And also my brother.

[...]

He is intent to belittle me, and I am half certain he doesn't do it on purpose but his words are never filtered. Or particularly thoughtful. I should like very much to smother him with a pillow. The laws of the Eldar forbid it, but it would make me feel better.

[Filtered to Turgon]

Brother, I talk too much. I am sorry.

[Unfiltered]

I am lonely. And bored.

Entertain me.

My wife drowned. A little over five centuries ago she and a fraction of our host fell through ice into the waters below. I failed to save her, and truly [...] I'm certain she let go so that I would go for our daughter instead. There's not a day that passes that I don't think of her, but I'm afraid she wouldn't recognize me now. Five centuries is not a lot of time but a lot has happened since then.

I miss her every day of my life.

She wouldn't recognize me and it would break her heart to know me now. I am glad she hasn't come through for that reason, though I would give the world to see her.

I thought of her today, as every day, but I saw a woman who reflected that same beauty as I was walking along 18th street. It stopped me cold and I'm afraid I made a bit of a fool of myself by staring. Elenwë was not the most beautiful elf-maid I have ever seen but she was the only one I could ever love. Or ever want.

She had long golden hair that went to her waist, blue eyes and a mischievous look about her. I always knew she was going to do something ridiculous when she got that glint in her eyes. Her ears betrayed her too.

Her spirit.

We had a millennium together before she died. It will never be enough.

Anyway I don't actually have a purpose for writing other than to remember. I feel it best to commit my thoughts to paper but I have no heart for it today. I am rebuilding the model home I wanted to make her when we wed. When I return to Taniquetil I hope to give it to her then.

Inspired by a conversation I had with Sherlock Holmes - the one from Elementary - I thought I would pose a question to the world at large. We all have those celebrity lists - the celebrities you can sleep with and your significant other can't get upset over.

What about a Tesseract list? Who would you put on your list to come through the Tesseract? Me, Indiana Jones is near the top.

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]

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.]

[Filtered; Fingon]
I have taken up temporary watch of a child for a man while he is away during the days and such times as he needs me. And I cannot help but be reminded of Itarillë. She is in my thoughts sometimes more than even Elenwë.

I look at her--this child--her name is Judith. I wonder at her life and what it shall be for her, while she grows. I wonder at what aspirations she shall reach for. It must seem an eternity waiting for the children of Men to grow, and an eternity to them to reach adulthood. It is sobering to know that when I look back she will be gone. 80 years is not very long at all. We spent half that crossing the Grinding Ice. And yet through the centuries we shall linger on. I shall linger on.

I felt this fear when my daughter wed her husband. I knew she would suffer such misery when Tuor departed. She would watch him grow old, watch him die, watch her children grow old and then they too would die. And through the generations she would be left to watch her descendants be born, age, and then pass while waiting and waiting with the hope she might be reunited with her family again.

I consigned her to such unimaginable cruelty. I knew she would suffer it and I did not tell her no. I did not tell her about the words Huor spoke to me. I let her go into that knowing what she would face, out of selfishness. Eärendil had to be born so that our people would be saved, and I sacrificed my daughter to see it done.

How would I live with myself if Tuor was not given our grace? Valar help me.

Claude Monet was a master despite his cataracts; we would never see his gracefully blended colour (I am partial to wisteria in place of waterlilies) nor the subsequent fade into the different fields of perspective. For all we know, if he had not had his slowly worsening eyesight, he would have been a caricaturist or (god forbid) Caravaggio. As it is, I thank his lack of clear eyesight most profoundly for the works he produced.

I say all of this because I too -- setting myself to ledgers at the art-supply store or to my own books and writings in the evening -- have noticed the world blurring a bit at the edges and going soft, if you will. Soft to spare me, I first thought ... then not so much. Soft because my near century-old retinas are telling me that they want a little down-time.

Officially, I need spectacles. Unofficially, I suppose I can use them to read. When I came back, the manager suggested that perhaps I attempt to be a little "more hipster" and I certainly don't know what me means. I am who I am and these fit my face fine. Ultimately, I think, he liked them too. But because of my (only slightly) grievous discovery, I bought myself a consolation prize.

So, consider this a request ... can I take your picture?

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.

From everything I've been able to find, that aren't going to be any new episodes of my show until October. How am I going to make sure that Carl's still alive, still safe with me here. Even though I'm there too somehow Has anybody else here had to go through this yet? Waiting for a new season to start so you can find out what's going on with your loved ones?

[Filtered to Turgon]
They want me to start training before the end of the week for that job. Are you available Thursday to start watching Judith?

[Filtered to Daryl]
Have you watched it? I remember you weren't sure you were going to after Merle.

I'm engaged. Not sure when I'll be able to stop grinning, but I don't think it'll be today.

[Jack]

So, Martha agreed to stand up for me. And is going on and on about a bachelor party.

You know my brain is already starting to spin on the logistics side of things. Oddly, given the disaster of Gwen's wedding, I don't feel the need for a big hoopla.

my brother showed me how to use this

but it is very strange and I am not good at things like this

are there people out there

where are you

why do we simply not meet and speak instead of using such things

i am makalaure

greetings

Maitimo is mad at me.

I don't know where this message will go to, I've lost the user manual, and I haven't seen my brother (who used to help me) around for a while. (I've been sitting in the library most of the time, so maybe he's been missing me, too.)

But I don't want to give up yet, so I'll post, and see where it ends up.

It’s a strange thing knowing how you’ll die. I expected more dread at the thought, but it’s oddly comforting in a way. If history tells it accurately, I will pass during the delivery of my eighth child. I cannot imagine having so many. There are worse ways to die, I suppose. The Spartans thought death by childbirth as noble as death in battle. If only I was Spartan.

Cesare:
I miss my son. I know I would not want him in this place, but it does little to ease the ache.

I spend more time looking up at the buildings of New York City than I do looking at the people that live here. Which is, of course, my fault entirely as I have a deep love of structures and architecture in general. And New York City is something beyond the likes of anything I have ever seen, designed or built myself.

But alas, I might ramble about the beauty of the city for a thousand years and never cease speaking of new wonders.

The point then is that I have finally taken to watching the mortals humans inhabitants of the realm and I noticed an odd thing. Odd in my perspective, at least.

There are a numerous amount of women with child in this world.

Were I an uneducated elf I might very well have assumed there was something in the water that made it happen so. But I know that is not the case. I find the difference striking. Children are celebrated amongst the elves and while women with child are not rare we are very particular on when children are brought about.

The idea of being separated during pregnancy, or in the very early years of childhood, is too grievous for us to bear, so children are not born during times of war. And as a rule we do not birth many, with my Lord uncle being a rare exception. He has seven sons. We wait at least ten years between our children too, because while it is joyous to raise elflings, itrequires a lot of nurturing for a long period; we do not come of age until our 50th year but even then one might not take full maturity until their 100th. Whereas Men are aged and approaching decline at 50.

My wife and I bore but one child before we were parted. I would have liked another, myself, but the process of bearing children is very hard on the mother and it was therefore her choice in the matter. Anyway.

I am running painfully short on funds.