Hmmmm… to be productive, or draw pinup?
be a responsible adult, or forgemaia trash?
WELP turns out i’m feeling too sick to do either of those things for now
now it is bathteim >3>
Month: December 2015
Hmmmm… to be productive, or draw pinup?
be a responsible adult, or forgemaia trash?
“Who the hell are you?” The blonde asked, standing in the doorway of the forge. Her cousin was missing, but perhaps Celebrimbor was doing something in his study instead of the forge. He had other lordly things to do after all.(Twilightblossom)(For Sauron)
“Oh! Pardon, milady, I did not realize I had company so early…” the stranger tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe and made a short bow.
“It’s been a season since my introduction at the Midsummer banquet– my travels have made me scarce lately, and no doubt there are many who are wondering exactly who this odd Vanyar fellow mucking about in the forges is! I am a teacher here, by leave of Lord Tyelperinquar– with whom I am meant to be meeting today, in his forge, where we shall begin our lesson. Which is why you find me here, ah, unaccompanied… ” He laughed, warm and slightly sheepish.
“I promise you, I am no burglar. My name is Annatar, called Aulendil. I had to see with my own eyes the great university I’d heard tell of. I know of no other place on earth but Eregion where so much knowledge and talent can be shared between so many; elf, dwarrow, and man alike! Ah, you see, I am already quite in love with this kingdom, my words are agush, do forgive me. What might your name be, dear lady?”
Pale brows shot up in surprise. Surely she hadn’t been gone a season, but then she had never seen this stranger in front of her until now. It would seem that she was gone for far longer then she should have. “I suppose that would explain it.” She allowed after a moment. “It isn’t often Lord Tyelperinquar takes mentors, as I’m sure you know.” It wasn’t often her cousin let anyone he didn’t know well into his forge, but Celebrimbor was a grown man, and surely did not need his cousin looking out from him. However, being ten years his senior, it didn’t stop her from being concerned for her cousin even if he was full grown.
“Mormiriel is my name.” She offered carefully after a moment. It was a lie. Her name was Lothuialneth, but she rarely used that name anymore, and Tyelpe was the only one who knew otherwise that it wasn’t her name. “The kingdom can be rather enchanting, so I will not judge you for it. I find it refreshing, really.” The elleth offered him a small smile to try and reassure the other that his excitement hadn’t bothered her. To be truthful, she would have punched him it the mouth had he been a thief, and it was refreshing not to need to do so. Yet.
“Ah!” the smith cried, recognition dawning, “I ought have guessed! Your cousin has spoken of you with praise– and, if I may be so bold, some trepidation. You are, I take it, not a force to be trifled with.” He winked. “You are as lovely as your name! And a fine name it is… invoking a fine and noble ancestry. I myself may trace some far distant kinship to Lady Indis… though, I realize amongst present company that is a topic around which to tread lightly.”
Aulendil took a disparaging glance towards the door of the smithy. “…As my pupil seems to have more important errands to attend, or else has overslept most egregiously, wouldst care to accompany me on a tour of the grounds? I am still and slowly becoming acquainted with the city, and you seem a reputable guide. –If milady has the time and inclination, of course.” He cocked his head with an inquisitive smile that crinkled his eyes.
Hair Clasp –RivkaZ 2015
*Stands at the brink of the pier*
He laughs and bares his teeth, slapping the water.
“You old codfish. I can hear you down there, stewing in your predicament. Do you want to give your handsome silver first-age antique a gift in return or not? You need not tell him who made it– what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. It is entirely benign and un-enchanted, as I’m sure you can suss. You know I don’t look half as fine in pearls… I have no use for it otherwise. You technically wouldn’t be speaking to me just by taking it.”
Ossë stills warily, wondering just how obvious his thoughts are to see. Either entirely too obvious, or else he is entirely too predictable.
It is only right he have something for his Elf, after all. And though he will surely be pleased by anything, wood carvings and pearls on rope are becoming old; the Elves on the other shores wear beautiful crafts of Noldorin origin. They look regal and noble, and his Elf has earned such honors far more than they have.
And though Nowë will certainly ask where he got such a thing, he can claim Aȝūlēz had crafted it, or Yaiwë. He can shield his memory of its true origin and just admire the harmless, beautiful present…
Though wouldn’t he feel guilty every time he looks at it?
And what if there is some spell on it that is simply dormant?…. Still. It will not hurt to get a closer look at it. He sends up an old, long-forgotten jewelry box, left centuries ago on the sea floor.
A box, made of eroded abalone and encrusted with barnacles, bobs to the surface, trailing baubles of green-gold kelp.
Sauron smiles, places the intricate clasp of his design within the parcel and shuts the resisting lid.
“There you are, cousin. Your elf will splendored above all others, though I still believe he holds your leash impudently short. Do let me know how it looks in his silvered hair, as I doubt very much I will see it in person.”
He rolls up one sleeve and sends the box back into the depths with a surge of bubbles. Shaking the droplets off his skin, he adds “…As I know you will be gnawing your fins over it, I do swear, on my left hand, which you may strike from me if I lie, there is no breath of spell on it, not dormant, not disguised, not overt–” he grins, “So you have no reason to squint your eyes at me from the depths, you mistrustful flounder.”
This forgotten castle (Château de la Mothe-Chandeniers) was abandoned after a fire In 1932. Seeing it up close is breathtaking. These days it seems like castles only exist in storybooks and Disney movies. What happened to the foreboding dwellings of our wealthiest ancestors? The truth of the matter is, while there are still many castles in Europe, many have fallen into disrepair and ruin over time. However, a group of preservationists in France are trying to save a 13th century castle that is slowly being reclaimed by nature. The story behind the abandoned property is just as fascinating as what’s left standing today. See an amazing video here.
*Stands at the brink of the pier*
The Zigûr trails his fingers over the water’s surface, letting the ripples break over his hand and kiss his palm with bright reflections.
“A Child is getting the better of you, my dear. What is one little promised gift in comparison to your freedom? That is not the wily storm-brewer I know…”
What a disappointment. Still, the recitation was lovely enough on its own, he supposes. It was too optimistic and childish to assume the courtship would continue on without some antagonistic remarks; it would almost have been disappointing, even.
Small water spouts sprout playfully, sprinkling water at his cousin. The water beneath his hand darkens and churns, a miniature storm to mock his comment. Because it is a thought that Ossë has already brewed over, and he will not allow his cousin to win this easily (or this soon). The gift will be lovely, and his Elf’s challenge was only for this month – it is not a loss of freedom, surely, just a brief and self-enforced solitude.
He laughs and bares his teeth, slapping the water.
“You old codfish. I can hear you down there, stewing in your predicament. Do you want to give your handsome silver first-age antique a gift in return or not? You need not tell him who made it– what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. It is entirely benign and un-enchanted, as I’m sure you can suss. You know I don’t look half as fine in pearls… I have no use for it otherwise. You technically wouldn’t be speaking to me just by taking it.”
*Stands at the brink of the pier*
“Yea but the old rebel sea has not yielded
Nor yoked not bent or to the will of men ceded;
And not for weal nor for love be he gelded;
Ye oaths to the water, fisherfolk, go unheeded,
For the sea is his own, to the end, undefeated.”
Ossë, once again, listens attentively to the poetry offered to him. And once again, he is careful to not respond. But he can’t stifle the chitter of pleased amusement that ripples through the sea.
Perhaps this challenge is the gift his Elf planned for him? Usually Sauron barely even pays him attention, but since the decision to ignore his cousin, he has been gifted with song and verse and offered trinkets.
If history is to repeat itself, his listening should gift him with another song next.
The Zigûr trails his fingers over the water’s surface, letting the ripples break over his hand and kiss his palm with bright reflections.
“A Child is getting the better of you, my dear. What is one little promised gift in comparison to your freedom? That is not the wily storm-brewer I know…”
*Stands at the brink of the pier*
“Yea but the old rebel sea has not yielded
Nor yoked not bent or to the will of men ceded;
And not for weal nor for love be he gelded;
Ye oaths to the water, fisherfolk, go unheeded,
For the sea is his own, to the end, undefeated.”
Show Me, Master, what you truly think of me?
You are one whose loyalty I have never doubted, even in the depths of suspicion to which I fell; one I trust as I would my own flesh, as all that was beautiful and terrible in the frost of my creation. One in whom I feel both pride and confidence. A work of excellence, enduring, though fragile enough that I fear for you. I think you are one who I will see at the end of time, waiting to be extinguished with me– and if I feel at that time no bitterness towards my own demise, I will surely know it for yours: the last beautiful thing of my making the Valar can take from me.
______
and then there’s this
ah hell yes
“Who the hell are you?” The blonde asked, standing in the doorway of the forge. Her cousin was missing, but perhaps Celebrimbor was doing something in his study instead of the forge. He had other lordly things to do after all.(Twilightblossom)(For Sauron)
“Oh! Pardon, milady, I did not realize I had company so early…” the stranger tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe and made a short bow.
“It’s been a season since my introduction at the Midsummer banquet– my travels have made me scarce lately, and no doubt there are many who are wondering exactly who this odd Vanyar fellow mucking about in the forges is! I am a teacher here, by leave of Lord Tyelperinquar– with whom I am meant to be meeting today, in his forge, where we shall begin our lesson. Which is why you find me here, ah, unaccompanied… ” He laughed, warm and slightly sheepish.
“I promise you, I am no burglar. My name is Annatar, called Aulendil. I had to see with my own eyes the great university I’d heard tell of. I know of no other place on earth but Eregion where so much knowledge and talent can be shared between so many; elf, dwarrow, and man alike! Ah, you see, I am already quite in love with this kingdom, my words are agush, do forgive me. What might your name be, dear lady?”
Fear the scraping in the dark, the stripey black and white death that even at this moment tunnels beneath your fortress. His paws are wrath, and his beady little eyes burn with the desire for blood. He is Turambadger – and he will have his vengeance.
HEY! YOU WAIT FOR THE DAGOR-BADGERWRATH LIKE EVERYONE ELSE
Quarry turned into luxury swimming pool. (Gifset via: orboLOOPS5)
The Forbidden Pool
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 