Lady Ithiriel of Rivendell (ithiriel) wrote in untold_logs, @ 2008-06-30 20:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | avarian, caranthir, feanor, ithiriel, maglor |
Who: Ithiriel, Maglor, Feanor, Caranthir, Ava(briefly).
What: Theatre decisions, and family scribble time!
When: Uh ... probably during the new Caranthir log sometime, since that one ends about the middle of this one.
Where: Citadel, Theatre.
Ithiriel: *random hugs Maglor, is still reading to him, and stuff >.>*
Maglor: *umm, yes, is being read to*
Ithiriel: *is almost done with book!*
Maglor: *stuff includes tea, lots and lots of tea, and nothing else only tea...and reading...IS MAKING THAT CLEAR*
Ithiriel: *no cuddling? D: *
Maglor: *nice mild chaste cuddling, yes, now and then?*
Maglor: *is worried the snuggle clinging might lead to...other things >.<*
Ithiriel: *still thinks she could do those other things >.>*
Maglor: *still thinks...not*
Ithiriel: *closes that book, gets another!*
Maglor: *stops her by taking hold of her good hand?*
Maglor: I should...check on the theater...
Maglor: ...yes, I think I should do that.
Ithiriel: Oh... ... I have kept you here too long, I am sorry...
Maglor: *smiles?* That's all right, Ithiriel. I will return, after I make certain that...there's still a theater there. I had...ideas for it, but I think Caranthir probably has a better idea of what might look better.
Ithiriel: *gets out of bed, grabs him out a tunic and some pants*
Ithiriel: *in case he wants to change*
Maglor: ... *well, is really fond of the robes, looks iffy like, if she got them, I should probably change, because she either wants me to or I got something ON the robe, like tea or...*
Maglor: *looks profoundly thinky*
Ithiriel: *looks at him for a few moments, puts the clothing away, smiles at him* *hands cloak?* It is raining out.
Maglor: *scoot-slides off the side of the bed, then...now is thinking he might have offended her, so takes the cloak, but is hestitating like...changing MIGHT be good, so stares down at robes like he's considering it*
Ithiriel: *kisses him on the cheek* The robe looks very good on you.
Maglor: *wrings the cloak in his hands, eyes the tunic and pants, looks at robe sleeves to make sure nothing's been spilled on them, then blinks at the kiss*
Maglor: I liked wearing them a long time ago. Not that they didn't make me trip every once in a while, but...mostly just on stairs. *grins?*
Maglor: Should I change, do you think? In case I have to climb over the rubble that's left of that building?
Ithiriel: *stills his hands with hers* You are the most handsome thing in all Arda, and you look richer than any Lord. Change if you wish it, or stay in these.
Maglor: *is not blushing, is not, no, certaintly not...except is*
Maglor: *says softly* And you are the most beautiful, and I still think you put the stars to shame.
Ithiriel: *smiles adoringly at him* *then blushes, too* Everything in creation will be jealous to look upon our children, then. *winks*
Maglor: I prefer to think of it as 'wonder' instead of 'jealousy' but I will point toward you if they ask where they get their beauty from. *smiles back at her, then puts on the cloak and nods a little bit*
Maglor: If you hear a building falling down, that would be the theatre.
Ithiriel: And I will point toward you. *chuckles* .... Well, I had better not hear a building fall down.
Maglor: I hope not, also, since it was not cheaply obtained. *laughs nervously like he really hopes it isn't in pieces* I will be back, shortly. *kisses the side of her face, pulls the hood up over his head, and departs*
Ithiriel: *watches him go, with a girly little sigh of contentness*
Feanor: *is, in fact, at the Theatre right now*!
Maglor: *oh, good, was wondering what his father was up to, meant to check in, so this knocks out two birds with one stone* *wanders through the streets in the rain, toward the theatre*
Feanor: *is standing on the stage, trying to get an idea of how strong his lamps need to be, and how many he'll need to be making*
Ithiriel: *curls up in bed and puts herself to sleep, is suddenly hell bent on resting up*
Maglor: *finally gets to the theater, and enters with some amount of wary trepidation on his part*
Feanor: *still walking around the stage, making sketches and notations on his parchment with a writing stick*
Maglor: *notes the ripped-uppedness, treads carefully and nears the stage, stands below, looking up, and blinking at Feanor who looks...busy*
Maglor: *says quietly* It seems you have all been very busy...and I have not yet begun to even pen a play for the opening night.
Feanor: *looks up from sketching* Maglor! ... I have only been in today, so do not look at me.
Maglor: *nods at that, figured Caranthir has ideas already, so smiles?* It is good to see you, even if I do not get to blame you for the current state of destruction.
Feanor: Blame your brother, it is just as fulfulling.
Feanor: Or... Refreshing.... ... Westron. *makes a face* *holds up sketches* I am making your stage lamps.
Maglor: It really isn't worthwhile to blame either of you, any longer. Perhaps I should do a play about us, so we do not seem entirely like villains. *is joking, mostly* *tilts his head at the mention of stage lamps*
Maglor: And where is Caranthir? On the roof?
Feanor: Perhaps you should write a play about whatever you wish. *walks up to him, holds out the sketches so he can get a better view*
Feanor: When last I checked, Caranthir was having a bath and fighting with the elf he bought.
Maglor: Oh. The one from the brothel. *makes a face, just a little, but at the elf from the brothel, not at the sketches, nods and smiles at the drawings in particular* Those will work very well, I think.
Feanor: She is a good elf. I approve. *points at the sketches* See here, I will make glowing rocks, little ones, and the amount of light can be controlled by how many rocks are in them.
Feanor: Then you can make colors on the stage with these colored glass panels.
Maglor: *looks iffy on his approval of the elf, but, reminds self that doesn't matter either way* *nods at the description* I like that idea, its very clever of you. But how long will the light in the stones last?
Maglor: Even after we are gone from here?
Feanor: *ponders this* I am not sure. I have never been told that the light I put in things goes out.
Maglor: I only worry that the next owner might have to replace all your work, someday. But I suppose, if that happens, then that is an issue they will have to address. It would be beyond us.
Feanor: That is a problem, yes. However, I believe that this same system would work with candles, though the light would not be as bright.
Feanor: I will give that thought. *nods his head* Ah! Nerdanel! You must come up to the room and see.
Maglor: Not as bright is better than none and...you finished the statue already, then. *grins a little* I'd like to see it, yes.
Feanor: *nods his head, makes a few more notes on his sketch* Do I have a daughter yet?
Maglor: No. You will have to learn a little thing called 'patience.'
Maglor: I know it is a difficult word to fathom.
Feanor: What IS the hold up? Is she still depressed? You know you can marry with her fingers a mess, the mechanics do not always involve fingers. *squints at him* Are you afraid?
Maglor: ....patience. *leaves it at that*
Feanor: *worries that this son is 'like Maedhros' >.>*
Feanor: You ARE looking forward to this, right?
Maglor: Yes. And no.
Feanor: No?
Maglor: Patience. *sighs out the word like its better to leave it be*
Feanor: *Squiiiiints*
Maglor: *says softly in quenya* I would like to look at mother again.
Feanor: *pats his shoulder* Let us go and see, then.
Feanor: I will try this thing you call patience.
Maglor: *nods like, yes, both are good ideas*
Feanor: *leads him off to the Inn room then!*
Feanor: *Yes, to the Inn room! Where they are going, to look at Nerdanel, so .... if other elves are in there, they aught to be aware!*
Maglor: *follows!*
Caranthir: *currently staring at Ava and patting her shoulder**hair is still damp*
Avarian: *staring back at him, like she can't decide how much trouble she'd be in if she kissed him. >.>*
Feanor: *knocks on the door, and enters!*
Maglor: *follows Feanor in*
Caranthir: *jerks and looks at the door*
Feanor: *points!*
Maglor:*blinkblinks* *points too!*
Avarian: *eyedarts*
Caranthir: *POINTS BACK!* What?!
Maglor: *looks away, while pointing*
Feanor: *POINT POINTS!*
Feanor: I KNEW it!
Caranthir: *rolls his eyes*
Maglor: *sighs and studies the walls, still pointing*
Avarian: Family reunion then? Excellent. I will go... that way. *points to the door, LEAVES*
Caranthir: There is nothing to know.
Feanor: *rolls his eyes, walks up to Nerdanel statue, takes cloth off it again*
Maglor: *finally stops studying the walls, and looks at it*
Caranthir: Is it not lifelike?
Maglor: *draws closer and smiles somewhat wistfully* ...yes, it is.
Maglor: It is nice to know, that it matches my memories and my memories were not...some figment of my own imagination, gone awry.
Feanor: It is still not as lifelike as she would have accomplished.
Caranthir: *picks up a necklace, and hands it to Feanor to show Maglor*
Feanor: *stares at the work, runs a finger over it* This is excellent work.
Maglor: *is still staring at the statue in a happy but wistful way* It truly is exceptional...you have, once again, outdone yourself.
Caranthir: Thank you. *to Feanor*
Feanor: *holds up the necklace for Maglor* Your brother created the silver parts of this, and I created the stone. It is for your wife.
Caranthir: *nods!*
Maglor: *blinks self back into the present since memories had...drifted off a bit, takes the necklace and smiles at it* ...this is beautiful, as well. Thank you, well...thank you, on her behalf.
Maglor: She will likely tell you that, herself, later.
Feanor: *points at the softly glowing stone* It has some... reserves, for her to draw upon, when she is healing.
Caranthir: *smiles* Likely quite a few reserves. From my studying it she may be able to replenish the reserves.
Maglor: Oh, is that what this glow is... *nods, rolls it in the palm of one hand, looking over the markings closely* ...this will be very useful to her, when she's overly zealous healing others.
Feanor: *nods his head*
Feanor: So. The theatre is gutted. What is next?
Caranthir: I am waiting for Maglor to finalize how he wants to design it.
Caranthir: we also need to discuss who will be in charge of stage direction.
Maglor: ...oh, no, no...I thought you would have ideas on that, since you would know what is better suited for...the public.
Feanor: It is your theatre, Maglor.
Feanor: *sits on the bed, gets out a new piece of sketching parchment* I will sketch out ideas, if you describe them.
Maglor: It is not just mine, but also Caranthir's, and the woman who runs that brothel is funding it, so...
Caranthir: My only ideas were frescos around the cieling, doors and stage that you could paint. *laughs*
Caranthir: But I do not know what concepts you have in mind.
Maglor: ...I do not think my ideas would suit it...it is better left to someone else, and....
Caranthir: What are your ideas.
Maglor: *blinky and thinky, then blurts out* Justhangsomecurtains. *fidget-pockets the necklace*
Caranthir: MAglor!
Maglor: *winces*
Feanor: Stage direction. That is an excellent idea.
Caranthir: >.<
Maglor: ...I'm afraid I do not know much about stage direction...but I'm reading a few books, so that I can add in such things when I pen a few plays.
Feanor: .... so then. Maglor, what do you want? If you wish curtains, then there shall be curtains. *starts sketching up the interior of the theatre, from memory, with curtains*
Caranthir: To correctly stage direct, brother, you must be unwilling to budge.
Maglor: No, no, ask Caranthir first what he thinks it should be like, then your ideas and...maybe we should ask the owner of that brothel also.... *is Arda's biggest pushover and it shows*
Caranthir: Because the first time an actor or actress has a different opinion than yours, you will change your mind. We cannot let that happen.
Feanor: And you are already budging on what you wish for your own theatre. *amused*
Feanor: *holds up the sketch of the theatre hung with curtains* Curtains. What do you think?
Maglor: But...what if they have a different point of view about the character, that could be valuable if listened to, as an insight into something that I did not even realize, and so they may want to exit left instead of right...
Maglor: *looks over the picture* I suppose so.
Caranthir: .....Perhaps we should hire a third-party stage-director
Maglor: Caranthir, what do you think about the curtains?
Maglor: *is rather :/ *
Caranthir: They are fine, but were you not having ideas for colour?
Caranthir: You do not look enthused.
Maglor: Oh, no, that's not it. I mean, it is it, but...blue curtains are fine if everyone is in agreement that they should be blue, or silk, or thinner than silk, like veils or....thicker like tapestry or...
Maglor: I mean, it should not be complex, what I thought of is too complex, and that's rather too busy and would distract from the stage and that's bad, isn't it? *wrings gloved hands together while thinking it over again*
Maglor: Curtains, yes. Blue. Things.
Caranthir: *gives his brother this exasperated look**hands him paper and a quill* draw what you have seen in YOUR MIND
Feanor: *nods*
Maglor: *fumbles with the paper and quill, eyes them both*
Maglor: Why do we not EACH draw what we have in mind, and perhaps then, can see what seems like it is best. *thus taking the pressure off of him and splitting it into thirds*
Caranthir: Yours first.
Maglor: Same time. >.>
Maglor: I need paints.
Caranthir: Ignore us, then, and I will.
Feanor: *has colored drawing sticks?*
Maglor: *takes paper and quills and ink into corner of the room, and...starts...drawing* *instantly gets flustered as its not coming out right, needs drawing sticks with color, yes ;_; *
Feanor: *gets out his drawing supplies, including colored drawing sticks!*Coloring time at Camp Feanor!
Maglor: *uses, then gets more flustered, crinkles up that paper, just uses the drawing sticks and doesn't bother with the ink, finishes after a while, and looks ready to crumple that up too*
Feanor: *sketches something, not really comitted to the way it will look* You and the elf you bought seem to be getting close. *conversationally*
Maglor: *throws second wadded up drawing over his shoulder onto the floor, tries again*
Maglor: *is half-listening though, while looking like he's busybusybusy*
Caranthir: *sits down with some extra coloured stick and starts to sketch out his own ideas, which generally revolves around a whole lot of wooden and stone carvings, generally around where the roof meets the walls, along the top of the stage where the curtains come down, and around doors and such***includes a page with the front of the building, done up similarly*
Caranthir: *ruins that page by ripping through it with his pencil* I did not BUY her.
Caranthir: *crumbles it up and tries again, grumbling*
Maglor: *notes in an idle little whisper while trying to color* ...yet, she was part of the arrangement.
Feanor: *snickers, doodles up something with painted panels hung with curtains above them*
Caranthir: She is an Employee.
Feanor: You pay her money then, do you not? *smirks, includes a detail of a ceiling painted like the sky*
Caranthir: Yes, she will be paid. >.<
Maglor: ...hopefully without having to cover her ears, while dancing and dropping knives on her foot... *still coloring*
Feanor: I neglect to see how this is not you buying her. *points this out, teasingly, while adding in a bit of an idea as to where lighting would go around the outside8
Maglor: ...she was part of the negotiation.... *sighs at the drawing*
Caranthir: *crumbles up his, and starts over, with different designs for the carvings**twitching*
Caranthir: Can we not TALK about this?
Maglor: Why should we not talk about it?
Maglor: *asked rather innocently*
Caranthir: Because there is NOTHINg to TALK about.
Feanor: *points! at Maglor* See? Your brother is interested, and thinks there is something to talk about.
Maglor: *finishing up while nodding* ...yes, yes, I am interested and there seems something worth talking about, I think.
Maglor: You and your scandalous elf maiden.
Caranthir: *one eye twitches**stuffs paper in his ears, DRAWS*
Maglor: *sighs softly* You always had odd taste in females, Caranthir.
Maglor: First that mortal woman, and how you pined away over how stubborn, and proud, and strong she was, fighting off all those orcs and such...
Feanor: I like this one. She seems to hold her own against him, after all, they BOTH have black eyes. *grins*
Caranthir: Haleth was not ODD >.<
Maglor: ...oh, yes, I look forward to hearing every argument, every petty squabble, and how she has an endearing way of punching him in the face.
Feanor: Perhaps he started it?
Caranthir: .....*throws a crumbled up papter at the back of his brother's head*
Maglor: *is bonked with paper and keeps talking very softly and calmly for the time being, just to be infuriating* He always starts it.
Feanor: She might be a perfectly even tempered and nice little elf, who Caranthir brings out the ... interesting qualities in.
Caranthir: Hah.
Maglor: *shakes his head, and eyedarts* ...are you both finished?
Feanor: *shrugs* I am done.
Caranthir: Almost..
Maglor: I think that I'm done.
Caranthir: *finishing touches, hurridly* Okay! Done.
Maglor: *stands, hugs the drawing against himself with both arms, turns around* You two, first.
Feanor: Maglor goes first!
Caranthir: Agreed!
Maglor: No, no...I think the better artists should...go first. *is not the better artist and knows it*
Maglor: I already called it, before you did, so...Caranthir goes first.
Caranthir: Nay >.<
Maglor: Yes, I think so. Let us see it.
Feanor: .. You have to admit, he is asserting himself.
Caranthir: Fine. *shows it!*
Maglor: *winces, looks apologetic*
Maglor: *looks at it*
Caranthir: Mostly, I've done trim.
Feanor: *looks, too* It is interesting trim, though how we would get all the carving done, I am not sure, unless that elf you bought is good with sculpture as well. *smirks*
Maglor: I like the trim. *looks paranoid, did not do trim per se, maybe trim is a good thing, should have thought of trim* *mentally chastizes self, then looks at Feanor* What is yours like?
Feanor: *flips his around* Mine takes your curtain idea, and adds painted panels, see? *points at them* Lanterns can be installed in the center of them, for lighting.
Feanor: I also added a design to paint the cieling like the skies.
Feanor: *points at that*
Maglor: *BLINKBLINKS*
Caranthir: *thinky look*
Maglor: ...oh, then...I fear you read my mind, somewhat.
Maglor: Though I did not think of the lanterns.
Feanor: Let us see yours, then.
Maglor: No, it is not as good as yours, lets do that one and let Caranthir have fun with his trimmings, so he can look up at his elf maiden on a ladder, carving them. Only if she wears a skirt
Caranthir: Nay! Let us see them.....please.
Maglor: *hugs not-good-drawing against himself and nods, like "good plan! lets do it!"*
Maglor: *backs away a step....*
Feanor: Kanafinwe, I wish to see YOURS.
Maglor: *looks ready to bolt now, thanx*
Caranthir; *blocks the door!*
Maglor: *backs up another step* Really, good ideas, both of you, then sees door is blocked, eyes go round*
Maglor: Itsnotverywelldrawn.
Feanor: Do not make me snatch it from you.
Caranthir: Stop acting like an elfling.
Maglor: *hops up on top of a bed and stands there, hugging paper defensively* I am not, really, I like both of your ideas, much better, so lets use those, yes? Yes.
Maglor: Yes, I'm glad we all agree, time to get started.
Caranthir: Maglor >.< Show. Papers. now.
Maglor: Time is running out, off to work on...things. >.>;
Feanor: Do not make me go and fetch your wife to make you! *grins*
Maglor: *look of woe*
Caranthir: >.<
Feanor: *walks over to the bed, reaches hand out to grab the paper*
Maglor: *sighs and holds out drawing of what looks like the walls are painted like the sea, starting from the floor, into ever darkening blue sky and clouds, that go to the ceiling, and turns black with stars*
Maglor: *interspersed with white pillars to break them into panels?*
Caranthir: *stares*
Feanor: *jawdrops*
Caranthir: *POINTS!*
Feanor: *POINTS! also* We use that idea.
Maglor: I thought, sparkly dim stones for the stars but...that seems like more people would stare at them, than the stage and.... *winces*
Caranthir: Some of the stars could be the lamps!
Maglor: ...but I do not know how that would work...
Feanor: Yes, some of the stars could be the lamps, set into the cieling, as well.
Caranthir: Move the night sky a bit back, perhaps part of it going down the rear wall?
Maglor: I thought blue curtains for the stage, but mostly blue and white...yes, well, I mean, no, I really liked both of your ideas also...
Feanor: When the stage lights up and the seating area goes black, no one will be staring at the walls.
Caranthir: *nods his head*
Feanor: Well we can work ours in.
Feanor: Caranthir's carvings can go into the pillars, and my bigger lamps can get installed there, as well.
Maglor: I do not know how to do any of it, it is better left to the both of you who do...know how...
Caranthir: It is a beautiful design, Maglor, and fitting. *nods his head*
Feanor: *nods his head* Gorgeous.
Maglor: ...well... *mutters a thank you*
Caranthir: *nods his head!* It would look fantastic, and not be difficult to implement. Since I've already stripped out the interior, the hardest part is done - the walls are ready to be painted.
Feanor: You will want to fix the cieling first, with that goo the elf you bought made, and some other structural repairs, first.
Maglor: ...that still leaves the matter of the stage manager...
Caranthir: Her name is Lomiel, in Sindar. Morniel is Quenya.
Caranthir: We could hire someone?
Maglor: *shakes his head and gently suggests* Extra expense, we have to pay all these people as it is.
Feanor: *scratches at his chin a bit* The stage director manages the actors a bit, and also handles how the production comes to gether as far as lighting and props goes, yes?
Maglor: We do not even know if anyone is interested in such things. *nods* Yes, I believe so.
Caranthir: *nods*
Feanor: I can do this.
Maglor: *raises eyebrows, blinkblinks*
Feanor: I want your elf to help me. When she is not dancing on stage and dropping daggers on her feet.
Caranthir: I want her to try out with others for acting >.<
Feanor: You have ambitions for your elf!
Caranthir: ARGH!
Maglor: *raising eyebrows even more while staring at Caranthir*
Feanor: I propose this then.
Feanor: Maglor produces the plays, watches the rehearsals to make sure the play is what he originally planned, and handles the music.
Feanor: I handle the backstage things.
Feanor: Caranthir, you handle the direction.
Maglor: *notices he's still standing on someone's bed so tries to get down, while nodding at that*
Caranthir: *thinks that works* There is much you can do above and below the stage, technically, to help make shows like no one has ever seen before.
Maglor: *falls off the bed, onto the floor, and quickly stands up, like it was some regal and exquisite way to cover up that he fell*
Maglor: Yes, I think I like the idea of Caranthir directing.
Feanor: *nods* He knows your mind well, so he will know when to be flexible, and when not to.
Feanor: And I know trinkets better than poeple.
Caranthir: *nods his head*
Maglor: Then I must find just the right thing, to write a play about. I thought a version of a historical tale, or even some...updated children's tale...since I am not well versed in comedy. *yet he falls well enough, dunnit he.*
Caranthir: *nods* We can also find existing plays, but I would prefer originals, too.
Feanor: An adaptation, perhaps, of something that these people already have heard of, simply to start you off on the right foot.
Maglor: Unless it is of the decidedly black sort. *hmm's softly and thinks* The first play should be one that might be known, so I can write out further stage direction, and adapt it to appeal in a more modern sense.
Maglor: *looks at Feanor like 'out of my mind, you.'*
Caranthir: *chuckles*
Feanor: *birthed him!*
Feanor: *kind of*
Maglor: *well, technically, mother did, but....you have half credit in creation?*
Caranthir: So we have a plan. Then.
Feanor: *exactly, yes, gave piece of his own SOUL to Maglor, shares a brain with him and Caranthir, too, yup*
Caranthir: Should the painting be done first to set the whole stage, so to speak? Also, what of the front facade?
Feanor: You will not want building matters to scar the paintings once they are up.
Caranthir: Point.
Feanor: Finish the inner structure, and do the paint everywhere last. I would think even the sculpting needs to come first.
Maglor: For the facade, why not do your carvings in wood but paint them to look like stone?
Caranthir: The wood would swell up in the rain. We'd have to use stone or that plaster.
Maglor: ...or...I have never been a wood or stone carver...so...yes...that is probably a good idea. *nods in agreement*
Caranthir: *shows the crumbled up design for the front he'd thrown away* Something like this, but along a similar theme to the inside. Perhaps waves crashing upon a shore?
Maglor: I like that, yes. *smiles*
Feanor: You can do wood carvings, and then cover them completely in the plaster. That would protect them from the rain, as long as there were no cracks.
Maglor: Wood would take less time to carve than stone, wouldn't it?
Maglor: Its much softer, it shouldn't take that long to carve...and then plaster...
Caranthir: If we can weatherproof it, then yes. *nods*
Maglor: I should start looking through more plays, and write them into adaptations, and then start on some music, but I'll need to talk to the dancers to see if they have any preferences and... *deep breath and sighs*
Caranthir: Calm down, brother. It will be all right.
Maglor: Yes, yes, I know, but I'd like it all to be done sooner than later....in case changes have to be made and blue curtains for the stage, I don't care if they are thick or thin or....
Maglor: ...need to go to the library, now.
Caranthir: Blue curtains. Velvet?
Feanor: Velvet is very heavy, you will need something strong to pull it.
Feanor: That is not a vote yea or nay, merely something to consider.
Caranthir: I am thinking of something durable, mostly.
Feanor: Dust will collect, and you will wish it to be washable, as well.
Feanor: A washable raw silk, perhaps. It will be luminous but light enough for curtains, with something else backing it, a more plain material.
Maglor: You can not drop down a screen then, for scenery changes, instead?
Maglor: *waves both hands around* I think it is best for the two of you to decide the material...
Caranthir: A screen?
Feanor: Nay, I can drop silk screens for scene changes, but you will have your blue curtains.
Maglor: *nodnods and smiles at them both?*
Feanor: *grins at Maglor* Do not get so caught up in this that you forget to give me a daughter, and grandchildren.
Caranthir: *grins*
Maglor: ..........
Caranthir: I want my nieces!
Maglor: *points at Caranthir* He is the one you need to bother also. *heads for the door*
Maglor: *is leaving in elvish tizzy!*
Feanor: Yes. Lomiel you said her name was? She is pretty. I cannot depend on Maglor alone, or all I shall have is singing grandchildren.
Caranthir: Lomiel or Morniel, yes, she has others, but I am calling her by her given names.
Feanor: You like her. *smirks*
Caranthir: II have no feelings oft he sort for her.
Maglor: *goes to library, fetches plays written by Elendil, he seems to remember that's what Celeborn suggested, promises librarians he'll be careful with them, then goes back to the citadel room >.>*
Feanor: Why did you fight eachother then?
Feanor: It reminds me of when Me and Nerdanel were younger.
Caranthir: .........
Caranthir: She pisses me off.
Feanor: *smirks* You looked very comfortable together a minute ago for someone who pisses you off.
Caranthir: You piss me off too.
Feanor: And yet you love me, and for all you piss me off, I love you, too.
Caranthir: I do not have to take this >.<
Caranthir: I have no intention of pursuing anything other than friendship >.<
Feanor: All I am saying is she is pretty and not mortal, and you liked her enough to save her from herself. *chuckles*
Caranthir: that is irrelevant >.>
Feanor: I see. ... Well. I have much work to do. If you find her, as I think we chased her off, tell her I am looking for her.
Caranthir: *grunts, and nods his head* If I see her. >.< *really irritated at matchmaking father*
Feanor: You will see her. *grins, skips out*
Caranthir: ........ >.