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[May. 30th, 2010|09:03 pm] |
*after a blissful and relaxing honeymoon, is on his way to Vinyamar with Glorfindel to attend the Virtuoso Awards, tanned and stress-free (and sporting a bit of a pulled muscle in his thigh)*
*or at least they would be properly on their way, if they hadn't been sidelined at the airport in Harad with flight delay after flight delay*
*finally arrives in Vinyamar (very, very late) and, once in the waiting car, exchanges a flurry of frantic texts with Roxy (or at least she seems rather frantic about it) to tell her he's still en route, although he'll miss most of the show at this point)*
*returns his phone to his jacket pocket and turns to Glorfindel with a smile* Apparently I've won awards. And here I thought I was going to have to come up with my own excuse to miss all the fun. |
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[Feb. 8th, 2010|11:36 pm] |
*with a frequency that might be alarming (if he only knew), wakes up in a hospital bed after a general anaesthetic* *feels a bit groggy and a bit clumsy as he looks at both of his hands now plastered*
*eyes the IV line (strange contraption), giving it an experimental tug before realising that's probably not the wisest move* Ouch.
*sees that there is someone next to his bed and turns towards her* *rather pleasantly, if a little hoarsely* May I have some water, please? |
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[Feb. 8th, 2010|05:09 pm] |
*has more or less settled into a routine these past several weeks, consisting mainly of work (going in early and leaving late) with a little music on the side* *finds he still has more free time than he's used to and so adds a little more lifting back into his workout and ensures that he sticks to his running schedule religiously (not that he needs his Arda build for soldiering these days, but it can't hurt, right?)*
*one evening after work (late-ish but not too late, for a change), changes into shorts and t-shirt and hauls his tennis racquet and accompanying gear over to ORC, where he's reserved time on one of the courts for himself and Elemmakil* |
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[Jan. 6th, 2010|12:35 am] |
*after what might just have been the worst evening of his life (encounters with Balrogs notwithstanding), went home and headed straight for the drinks cabinet, which is remarkably well-stocked for a recovering alcoholic (but he always wanted to have something on hand for visitors)*
*doesn't remember a whole lot of the rest of the night though is sure he didn't sleep that much*
*wakes up the following morning with a loud angry buzzing in his head, a loud angry buzzing next to him on the pillow, a loud angry buzzing on the nighstand and a wet face* *registers what these are in turn (hangover, phone ringing, alarm clock alarming and puppy licking his face)*
*struggles upright, screwing his eyes shut in an attempt to counteract the swelling nausea and answers his phone* 'lo?
*reaches out to scratch under Marigold's chin ('I'll feed you in a minute, girl'), inwardly cursing the brightness of the day around him* |
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[Dec. 19th, 2009|09:10 pm] |
*has spent the past few days in a rather angry daze which has only be interrupted by brief moments of uncertainty (such as when he wakes up in the morning and Ecthelion isn't in his bed) (such as when he goes to text Ecthelion I'm sorry, I'm being an idiot but stops himself)*
*topples into a whole new rage when a number of boxes arrive at the Flower (so soon) and all thoughts of making any apologetic gesture are quickly crushed* *fueled by continuing anger, becomes remarkably efficient, tearing through his work at the Flower and with Special Ops (the sort of efficiency not seen since Rivendell in the Third Age)* *takes the time to package up Ecthelion's belongings and send them to the Fountain in the very same boxes (except for a single t-shirt which now resides in Marigold's basket to keep her from pining overly)*
*finally, on the fifth day, having woken up yet again, hard and lonely and disorentiated (is it dark?), marshals his defences and goes to work, barely noticing that his own staffers do their utmost to avoid him*
*eventually, almost on a whim, picks up the phone and presses a speed-dial that, by rights, shouldn't still be on his phone* |
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happy
blank
okay
nauseated
infuriated