Month: May 2016

masteroftheseas:

misbehavingmaiar:

*ignores Ossë’s tantrum and makes a square with his fingers, judging the composition of a future sculpture* 

…A swan ship…. on fire… triumphant, nude Fëanorians… yes… YES…! 

“Do you want me to visit your forge? Because I will take this as an invitation, cousin.”

Ossssëeee… my forge is in Mordor, a desert of ash and rock, past the Mountains of Shadow and aaaall the way inside an active volcano. You’d dry out, my dear. Your pretty fins would turn brittle, blacken, and flake off. And no one wants that.  

masteroftheseas:

misbehavingmaiar:

“And yet, obviously, I cannot. For you stride into my home and destroy my work, which brought pleasure and joy to many. Children played in that fountain, lovers courted beneath it… 

*long-suffering sigh*  

I suppose I’ll just have to build again! Perhaps a monument to the beauty of some other, less easily-embarrassed subject.” 

“EMBARRASSED? I am not embarrassed, in fact, I did not ev– 

Stop trying to manipulate me!

I do not care what you do, but if you use my form without my permission ever again, I swear to you that your forge and your face will not survive me.

… And for the record this is not your home.”

*ignores Ossë’s tantrum and makes a square with his fingers, judging the composition of a future sculpture* 

…A swan ship…. on fire… triumphant, nude Fëanorians… yes… YES…! 

masteroftheseas:

misbehavingmaiar:

I give you a pleasant outing, fond memories, art, poetry, hair-clasps, and you repay me with violence. Hah. I see. 

And they call me Gorthaur. 

“FOND memories? FOND memories! H A ! You humiliated me, manipulated me, and then made a statue to immortalize my shame. You can keep your wicked gifts, cousin.”

“And yet, obviously, I cannot. For you stride into my home and destroy my work, which brought pleasure and joy to many. Children played in that fountain, lovers courted beneath it… 

*long-suffering sigh*  

I suppose I’ll just have to build again! Perhaps a monument to the beauty of some other, less easily-embarrassed subject.” 

masteroftheseas:

misbehavingmaiar:

“Well. I see someone’s turned his hand to Art Criticism.” 

“I’m quite hurt, if you want me to be honest.” 

“I do not want your honesty, I want your understanding that the next time I put a water jet into your face, it will not be a depiction of your face. As the mortals are fond of saying, no more mister nice terror.”

I give you a pleasant outing, fond memories, art, poetry, hair-clasps, and you repay me with violence. Hah. I see. 

And they call me Gorthaur. 

plotting call.

doomedvalour:

ooc. Here’s something a little different: Like this post if you’d like to get a plot going, and I’ll hit you up via IM / ask so we can brainstorm.

I’m trying to get this blog started with some plotted threads before I jump into open starter calls. And don’t be shy – even if you think our muses couldn’t interact, I bet we can think of something interesting. 🙂

Qui Veut Chasser Une Migraine; An Early French Drinking Song 
–Joel Frederiksen 

“Qui veut chasser une migraine
N’a qu’à boire toujours du bon
Et maintenir la table pleine
De cervelas et de jambon. 
L’eau ne fait rien que pourrir le poumon, 
Goûte, goûte, goûte, goûte compagnon! 
Vide-nous ce verre et nous le remplirons.”

“Whoever want to chase a headache
Has only to drink well
And keep the table laden
with sausages and ham;
Water does nothing but rot the lungs;
Taste, taste, taste, my friend!
Empty this glass and we will refill it.” –x

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