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[Dec. 1st, 2010|07:53 pm] |
*having ensure that all of his above-board dealings are remaining above-board and afloat, makes his way to the Cape of Balar to carry out a business deal (even if the other party is unaware that there is a business deal to be made)*
*ambles into a rather hokey coffee shop to catch the last sitting for breakfast and finds a booth at the back, near the kitchen*
*idles over the menu until he can catch the eye of the blonde waitress, who looks far too old for this kind of job (not that she doesn't look good for age but still!)* |
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[Oct. 6th, 2010|07:46 pm] |
*decides something needs to be done about the Gondolin situation, even if next to no one is aware that there is a Gondolin situation* *is sick to the back teeth of shipments going missing, of being outbid on certain jobs through the continent and of unexplained delays to his own shipments*
*makes plans to meet a main player in this whole scenario but plans to meet him on neutral ground, away from Hithlum, Thargelion or Gondolin herself*
*strolls into a kitsch little coffee shop on the Cape of Balar and sits down at a table in an alcove, waiting for his contact to arrive* |
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[Dec. 13th, 2009|04:41 pm] |
*has begun to settle back into life in Gondolin as quickly as might have been expected* *is cheered enormously by the simple knowledge that Idril and Eärendil seem happy to have her around*
*is absolutely furious, however, when she reads the headlines from Ossiriand and immediately texts Curufin (What do you know about this? Amarie is not Finduilas. I don't want her near my child.)* *frets enormously and considers flying back to Ossiriand at least eighteen times in the inside of a morning* *is greatly appeased when she gets an unsolicited text from her daughter* *texts back immediately, telling her to call her any time* *really misses her little girl*
*is all but waiting by her phone so, when it rings, answers it in a rush, without stopping to check the caller ID* Hi, hello, Ninquelótë?? |
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[Jun. 23rd, 2009|07:24 pm] |
*having spent quite a few weeks at sea, comes to shore near Cape Balar* *doesn't even attempt to re-enter Delving because all the talkings-to in the world won't make the springs and rivers and pipes change their minds about admitting him*
*shaking the water out of his hair (and skin and bones), ambles into his favourite pub in this part of the world - the Anchorman* *is surprised to pick up on unexpected, but familiar, strains of Maiar music in the vicinity* |
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[Jun. 16th, 2009|09:48 pm] |
*after that little incident, restricts her communication with Tilion to the purely professional via a third party*
*goes to the race, nonetheless, because it will cause more grief (with the media) if she is not there* *takes her usual place down at the pitlane, perched on a stool, eyes trained on a screen as she listens to the team communications through a headset* |
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[Jun. 13th, 2009|09:08 am] |
*having won six of the first seven races of the season(!), decides it wouldn't be a bad idea to thank his manager for her tireless efforts in terrifying diverting the media and his sponsors so that he can concentrate on the important stuff* *also, they've achieved something like a delicate cease-fire, which has been...suspenseful educational?*
*dithers for an hour in an upscale jewelry shop in Cape Balar (on the eve of his next race) before begging a shopgirl for help* *ultimately decides on a diamond pendant (on a tungsten chain for added heat resistance)—expensive but tasteful, just the sort of thing she'd like—and has it nicely wrapped*
*returns to the hotel they're both staying in and makes his way up to her suite (it's a beautiful day out but one weak cocktail is liable to get the entire beach turned to glass)* *knocks on the door, box in hand, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously (every conversation with Arien is...an adventure? a journey? or maybe just a lesson in masochism)* |
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[Feb. 19th, 2009|09:03 pm] |
*appears to be pouring over the Cape Daily News in the corner of her regular lunch café* *is actually people-watching with a faint sort of interest (he is cheating on his wife with her and she is cooking the books at her company and he likes underage boys and she thinks no one notices the track marks on her arm and won't it be terribly interesting when if this all comes out?)*
*offers the waiter a distant smile as he refills her water glass but is distracted by the buzzing of her phone, which is sitting in the centre of the table* *looks at the incoming number with curiosity until a small (more genuine?) smile touches her lips as she recognises the area code* (*now, who does she know in Gondolin?*)
*clears her throat and answers the phone in very gentle tones (causing the waiter to do a double-take)(she's usually so harsh and demanding, after all)* Hello, Vairë speaking. (It didn't take long at all, did it?) |
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[Sep. 8th, 2008|03:50 pm] |
*gathers up the moonflowers and deposits them in Tilion's kitchen, with a note attached: Next time, I'm burning them.*
*travels to Cape Balar and stops into a quaint little tourist-y coffee shop to buy two coffees*
*goes down onto the beach and scowls looks out over the waves (looking distinctly choppy) (autumn is coming?)* |
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angry
anxious
blah
pleased