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[Dec. 13th, 2009|01:10 pm] |
*two days later, is feeling a little more like himself (comparatively), but can't quite shake an odd sense of disconnect*
*ended up asking Elemmakil to take him to the hospital that evening, if only because visions of spending all night choking on old terror were nearly enough to send him back to the floor* *will admit that he welcomed the thick, sleepy calm contained in the magical chill-pill, though he hasn't touched the prescription anti-anxiety meds since (is not even going there)*
*would be perfectly content to avoid everyone involved in the whole episode for the rest of his natural life, really, but pragmatism dictates that isn't an option* *therefore, finds himself at the Swallow Sunday night, a DVD in one hand and a large bottle of whiskey in the other* |
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[May. 8th, 2009|10:34 pm] |
*rolled into work in a good mood, all told, and so far is having a somewhat hectic but otherwise okay birthday* *stopped really paying attention after the big 3-0, to be honest (which is funny considering that he used to measure his life in centuries and millenia), but the Fountain staff gets more inventive every year with the jokes—this time he's received a personalized formaldehyde inhaler ("just making sure you're well-preserved inside and out, sir")*
*takes a spare moment later in the day to hang up his gift from Elemmakil, next to an enlarged copy of the picture he took from the hot-air balloon* *loves Tanya's photo, of course, with its white-silver-blue cast and the Fountain banner visible just behind the spray* *how well she knows him*
*has just finished straightening the picture frame when his office phone warbles with an incoming outside call* *dusts off his hands and steps over to check the ID (Swallow), snagging the receiver with a fairly good idea who's on the other end* *answers* House of the Fountain, this is Erestor. |
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[Apr. 7th, 2009|08:25 pm] |
*finds Tanya? Pete? Tanya's at the viewing party, so figures on catching up with her after?*
(*not that he goes in for awards shows any how, unless he'd be required to show up, or if it's just a Fountain thing, or maybe he's overthinking it*)
*really has not crowed about his love life had a good man-to-man with Duilien lately, so swings by the Swallow* |
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[Jan. 21st, 2009|07:01 pm] |
*is in need of diversion and catching on up on goings-on about town*
*hasn't been short on diversions lately though, natch*
* swings by the Swallow to see what sort of extra-curricular violence Duilien will want to coerce him into* |
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[Nov. 23rd, 2008|07:01 pm] |
*drives himself home from... wherever he was last night (something about a development strategy session)*
*smoothly navigates the not at all pressing late-morning traffic on his way back to the Pillar*
*or at least, smoothly until his two-door sedan encounters a sidewalk (then a fire hydrant, then a mailbox, then a building wall) somewhere outside the Swallow*
*is fortunately knocked out, then pillowed by, the air bag, well enough remain unperturbed by the act of the crash (the blood alcohol levels may also be a factor)* |
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[Oct. 24th, 2008|12:03 pm] |
*was concerned (if not altogether surprised) to get word of the cancellation* *wonders, not for the first time, whether Ecthelion's throat is up to handling a death sub yet* *maybe a melt-in-your-mouth Philly steak 'n cheese?*
*is also fairly unsurprised when Erestor turns up at the Swallow in short order, which seems to have become something of a routine now that the lackey is temporarily filling his boss' shoes* *presses the intercom button, answering the front desk* Yeah, Pete, send him up. Mac, too, if you see him—oh, and tell Erestor to mind the ladders, dammit. Bloody hazards. |
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[Oct. 13th, 2008|05:22 pm] |
*was still in the card room the previous night when he got a series of pages*
*has sent his men out on street patrol (order is the name of the game, let's keep it cool boys, it'll be over before you know it)*
*after several hours of discovering it's actually not going to be over before they know it, sends half his squad to Gondolin Memorial (telling them to practice a lot of "Ma'am. Ma'am stay calm everything will be fine." on the way over)*
*sends his report to Rôg and is on his way to the Swallow for their report when he sees an explosion near the city limits*
*looking for Duilien in the floody mayhem* Arch is secure. Fucked if I know what else is. ... You need a wrench? |
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[Oct. 11th, 2008|12:06 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | &ecthelion&erestor, &ecthelion&gothmog, &ecthelion&salgant, @gondolin, @gondolin:fountain, @gondolin:harp, @gondolin:swallow, ecthelion, erestor, gothmog, qualme, salgant | ] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  stressed | ] |
*is still on the phone when he reaches the Flower* Duilien's getting hers under control. Talk to her before any of yours head out that way.
*gets out of his borrowed car and, when he doesn't immediately hear the wail of sirens, realizes the trucks are all at the Harp* *wades through the crowds near the house, looking for Glorfindel*
*stays just long enough to help move some dazed and coughing staffers to relative safety, direct overall personnel traffic via a few more calls, and catch a glimpse of Glorfindel (whole and spouting orders) before he hears the fire trucks in the distance*
*dashes back to the car, a little sooty and ignoring the incessant ringing of his phone in favor of concentrating on the road, assuming it's just Salgant (all right, already, I'm on my way)* *drives toward the Harp as fast as he can take the corners* |
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[Oct. 10th, 2008|05:06 pm] |
*has spent much of her time closeted in her office since the senior staff meeting, going over things with a fine-toothed comb in light of Ecthelion's revelations* *as far as theories go, can't come up with anything better than what's already on the table (I believe this threat to be personal), but is hoping another look-through might inspire a good argument against Ecthelion's proposed solution (I will take the trouble with me)* (*an argument he might actually listen to, that is, since he's likely already heard variations on "don't be stupid" and "this is suicide"*)
*several hours later, is frustrated and no closer to a brilliant epiphany than she was before* *glances up at the clock (late afternoon already?), knowing that her fellow Lord is due to leave early the next morning*
*makes a quick decision and dials Ecthelion's cellular* |
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[Sep. 1st, 2008|03:24 pm] |
*arrived back from Hithlum in the nick of time before Gondolin went into lockdown*
*checks in at his House and leaves a phone message for Ecthelion, before heading right over to Duilien's to see if there's an update* |
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[Aug. 29th, 2008|11:19 am] |
*has had an extremely busy time of it since word came through of the alert and subsequent city-wide lockdown* *because of course, every event coordinator in town wants to know whether their weddings/concerts/parties/recitals/bar mitzvahs are still going to go on as planned? and they didn't know whether to call the Harp or the Swallow? and they probably just don't want to deal with Sally*
(*never mind the facts that there are old-school monsters on the loose, and a good man is already in the hospital, and the King has locked down the City*)
*hunts through the stacks of file folders on her desk for a few minutes before paging her second-in-command* Mac? Where's the number for that woman with the dog show? You know, the nutbar with the poodle hair? |
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[Aug. 23rd, 2008|11:26 am] |
*receives official word of her punishment for scaring the shit out of Salgant (again)* *formal apology (whatever, probably has a stack of those on file by now) and... mock turtlenecks?* *oh, man, smallest price for biggest payoff, EVER*
*sets to writing the apology:*
( My dear Lord Salgant... )
*makes two copies as ordered, sends one to the Palace and the other to the Harp, and goes about acquiring her mock-turtlenecks* *is thinking she'll get them in the Swallow's colors, with fun things printed on the necks ("Ondolindë > You", "Hitchcock was RIGHT", "+50% Charm/Intimidate", etc.)* |
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[Jul. 30th, 2008|03:32 pm] |
*invites Salgant to her House for a meeting re: possible sites for Glorfindel's simul-cast venue*
*sets herself up in a conference room with a wide table, ensuring she has all of the relevant maps, sketches, estimates, and schedules on-hand*
*lays the paperwork and such out in a neat line along one side of the table*
*moves around to the other side and begins unlatching the heavy cases stacked against the wall*
*smiles very privately to herself when she's told her fellow Lord has arrived* Bring him on in, Mac. Let's get this horror show on the road. |
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chipper
drunk
productive
pensive
worried