| |
[Sep. 29th, 2009|07:29 pm] |
*has never been more grateful for his camera-face than he is tonight, at the glitzy and glamorous Cathy awards* *is all dashingly sweet smiles on the red carpet, with Finduilas at her stunning best on his arm and the paparazzi's glare at every turn, but inwardly is the worst jittering mess he's been since... ever, probably*
*aside from the overall excitement of As Órë Turns' five nominations, has personal reasons to be almost nauseatingly nervous* *has to force himself not to check his pocket for the ring box every five seconds or so, for fear of drawing anyone's attention*
*waits until he and Finduilas have been settled at their table to let a little of his fretting show* Oh my God, Finduilas, can you even believe we're here? Do you think we'll win? I mean, I'm sure you will, you're amazing, but you know, for best show and best director and will we still have jobs if Amarië loses and everything? *breathes* You really do look amazing. |
|
|
| |
[Sep. 29th, 2009|09:03 pm] |
*sits atop a streetlamp somewhere in Gondolin, swinging her feet and watching the people moving about below in all of their time-driven hurry (born)(breathing)(dying)*
*has been all over Beleriand in the past day-or-minute on her lord's business, but where her Kirin is, there she will return* *is pleased with all of the progress Kirin is making, even if it is very (C)hildish progress* *he's so very bright for a young one* |
|
|