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[Mar. 27th, 2011|08:04 pm] |
*leaves Aulë's, feeling thoroughly chastised and somewhat frustrated with the circumstances (he really felt he was getting somewhere with Aulendil, but their tour's been cut short for now)*
*detours briefly to Ossiriand and tracks down Telimektar to apologize for his part in the debacle* *also noses around town a bit to be sure the damage is as superficial as it first seemed (it is)*
*that done, makes his way across to his Lady's halls for a third round of apologies* *has no idea how Nienna might react, but feels he owes his patroness a visit, anyway, after everything that's happened lately* |
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[Jan. 24th, 2011|08:26 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | &aule&vana, &aule&yavanna, &este&irmo, &este&marende, &manwe&varda, &namo&nienna, &namo&quellen, &telimektar&vana, @mandos, @menegroth, aule, este, irmo, manwe, marende, namo, nienna, quellen, telimektar, ulmo, vana, varda, yavanna | ] |
*while Vána is relatively subdued by Aulë and Telimektar, steps forwards from the shadows in Vána's workshop* I propose we re-locate. The Children are desperately noisy and this is no place for a judgment.
*projects a clear image of the Halls of Mandos - not the shadowy caverns where numberless ex-fëar mumble and stumble through to the hereafter, or the great tapestries of Vairë, or the Freezer of Ignominy but rather the Great Hall, with seats for each Vala (apart from the accused)*
*speeds his way there, expecting the others to do the same* |
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[Jan. 19th, 2011|06:08 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | &aule&vana, &elrond&turin, &mablung&turin, &manwe&ulmo, &morwen&turin, &telimektar&vana, @doriath:vana's, @menegroth, @menegroth:mhc, aule, chip, elrond, irmo, mablung, manwe, morwen, namo, nienna, telimektar, turin, ulmo, vana, varda | ] |
*finds a high-powered flashlight, fills it with fresh batteries, and goes out into the streets of Menegroth as promised*
*thinks at first that the situation doesn't seem too bad—nothing has obviously exploded many people look a bit panicked in the glow of the emergency lights, their foot traffic somewhat chaotic; but some even look resigned, perhaps having lived through the Great Delving Blackouts of past years*
*wanders down in the direction of his mother's shop, thinking to check on her while he's out* *occasionally points passersby in the right direction or tries to reassure them although more than occasionally (and perhaps understandably), they look terrified to see him*
[Edit] *reappears inside Vána's workshop (now is not the time for social graces)* |
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[Dec. 7th, 2010|06:14 pm] |
*is touring her Halls at a sedate pace, clothed in shadowy grey and black, gobs of terrified souls scattering before her* *looks forward to a great many judgements today, but has discovered that the occasional break helps keep her focus sharp*
*having loosened her hold to a near-negligible wisp of contact, has little idea of what her messenger is up to (though she has every confidence that fear, if nothing else, will keep little Sanyë in line)*
*plucks a quivering soul from its perch before it can slink away, crooning softly to it* Oh, yes, fear. Do you know enough to fear me, little one? *smiles to herself* But you know nothing of love. She is mine for love. (She fears to lose my love and so she must obey.) |
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[Mar. 17th, 2010|07:11 pm] |
*has been keeping a close eye on her... experiment? project? Maia?... her charge, to ensure the little girl is fulfilling her new role in the world (Sanyë)(my law)*
*is pleased thus far; so long as she is kept busy and entertained, the creature may prove to be an effective resource* *to that end, has been nudging her this way and that, sending her to those corners of Órë where corruption breeds (and she may eventually allow Sanyë a freer run, but first she must prove herself)*
*finds herself in a much less dire mood one gloomy afternoon (at last, they are learning) and goes in search of her husband* |
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[Feb. 19th, 2010|09:15 am] |
*passes slowly through a sleepy town far from her home in the north, lingering in the mist and long shadows of night* *indulges in a brief flicker of nostalgia as she recalls a Valië who once wandered the twilit forests of Arda, robed in mournful grey, weeping for the ills of that broken world*
*smooths down her close-fitting black garments and dismisses all thought of tears (useless)* *sweeping a cold gaze across the street ahead, addresses the smaller shadow trailing to her right* What do you see, little one? |
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[Feb. 27th, 2009|03:53 pm] |
*is slowly coming to the realization that, as uncomfortable and unnerving as her little heart-to-hearts are, they're actually preferable to the endless spates of skulking and goo-bullying in between*
*has, in fact, taken to trailing in the dark/light Valië's wake on a regular basis; quietly and cowering at first, but more boldly of late (said Valië doesn't seem to mind?)* *has seen all sorts of strange, far-flung corners of the Halls while in Nienna's company, and has even been permitted to crouch in the corner of her office while she "processes" mortal souls*
*is still a disembodied collection of disharmony, but at least she's not bored out of her fucking discorporated mind now?* |
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[Nov. 9th, 2008|01:30 am] |
*sits alone in her dark and dreary office, idly testing out her new rocking chair as she mends Námo's socks* (*why yes, of course it's the perfect place for a rocking chair, and for sock-mending as well*)
*on a whim, summons one darker-than-dark little blot into her presence* |
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[Oct. 21st, 2008|05:10 pm] |
*has had an interesting and eventful and really quite exciting few days, mooching around the outskirts of Gondolin (and inadvertently ensuring that the alfalfa crop whithers entirely)*
*gathers up all the non-corporeal scraps of Balrog he can find, scraping up shards and powder and fragments and pools of extinguished fiery Ainu*
*finally, satisfied that he's got every last morsel, makes his way back to the Halls* *goes into the kitchenette and puts on the kettle* *sits on the counter and scratches out the word 'Cookie' on the jar and writes 'Balrog' instead* |
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[Oct. 19th, 2008|09:14 pm] |
*skulks* *lurks* *slinks and slithers*
*ducks and shies*
*quietly terrorizes the soul-sludge when she thinks she can get away with it*
*and one day (night? twilight? endless murk?)—*
*—runs into a wall* |
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[Jul. 31st, 2008|06:05 pm] |
*wanders through the Halls, weary and numbed to the core after a long day of consigning souls to their fates* *hasn't had a true Redeemable ever in days and days* *has allowed some few rehousings, though--couldn't bring herself to keep the youngest children from the light*
*idly watches the various bits of goo, shade, and gooey shade as they scatter before her, instinctively driven to flee before anything too Light (piercing and painful, as the Sun's glare in the wasteland) or too Dark (chill and empty, pitiless to the lost)* *sometimes wonders whether they can tell the difference between herself and her Lord, whom they seem to fear above all else* *does so love that dark, dark Doomsman of hers*
*reaches one of the outer fringes and pauses in her step, glancing down a seemingly endless corridor (none of them ever really end so much as they turn back in on themselves)*
*hears a new, and yet old Song--one she once knew very well, indeed* *listens for a moment longer to be sure* *he always was low-key, if not outright shy*
*fades into the shadows and reincorporates two floors above, speaking even before her form has become visible* When were you planning to announce yourself to the Lady of these Halls, pupil mine? |
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[May. 7th, 2008|04:49 pm] |
*settles in her big black throne chair and pulls it up to her desk, booting up her computer* *handy thing, modern technology*
*pulls up the day's listing of appointments and briefly peruses it, clicking into the overview pages for a few of the more "prominent" individuals*
*has given up trying to empathize with any of the post-goo shades; sees far too much that requires re-education in their profiles*
*glances over some of said profiles* Not too malicious overall, but he hasn't figured out what humility means... *flags it "for Námo"* Seems to think her poverty entitles her to harm others in order to survive... *again, "for Námo"* Lies, cheats, takes advantage of the innocent, and wears velour... *definitely "for Námo"*
*pauses as she comes to one name in particular* Well, well. Why am I not surprised to see you again so soon? *smiles frostily and bumps him up to the head of the queue* |
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[Mar. 25th, 2008|07:21 pm] |
*much as she’s appreciated regaining her strength and catching up on recent history, has also re-discovered her distaste for endless bright light and joie de vivre* *is developing a persistent headache, in fact*
*finds herself missing the quiet, dreary shadows of the northern Halls* *discorporates on a whim and heads there with all due speed*
*sighs with relief as she re-forms in the midst of a dimly lit chamber* *feels at home for the first time since waking up*
*wanders over to a convenient chair and sinks down into it*
...
*reaches beneath her and pulls out a handful of dark, inert slime* Hel-lo. You don’t quite remember what you are just yet, do you? Well, you don’t belong on the furniture until you do. *considers, listening to the nasty buzzing you’re giving off* And perhaps not even then.
*holds out her hand and lets the murk slip through her fingers to the floor*
*sits back and waits for her husband to get in* |
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[Mar. 11th, 2008|05:47 pm] |
*has been slowly catching up on everything that's happened since the end of Arda* *the high (low?) points, at least* *is particularly interested in the Bad News, what there is of it*
*feels quite a bit stronger, physically, but can't help but think that something is missing--something intangible, yet vitally important*
*sigh*
*checks herself out of Lórien and (carefully) heads out to see what she can see*
...
*decides to visit her brother first* |
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[Feb. 19th, 2008|02:14 am] |
*slowly emerges from a murky grey oblivion, gradually becoming aware that there is light and warmth on the other side of the fog* *registers vague surprise at this revelation--remembers only death and destruction and screams and the terrible, rending darkness*
...
*opens her eyes and takes in the clean, comfortable room around her* *does not recognize the place, or the strange machinery beeping nearby (in time with her heart?)*
*takes in a deep breath, pulls her senses into focus, and listens*
...
*is unnerved more by the silence than by the unfamiliar and unexpected surroundings*
*instinctively reaches for the other half of her soul* Námo...? |
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uncomfortable
contemplative
working
curious
awake