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cloak

muses galore, taking stock of the current situation

Posted on 2005.07.29 at 01:05
Current Mood: crankycranky
Current Music: nothing
Tags: , , ,
Things have been quiet around here lately. It is not that there are not very many muses - there are actually more than normal - it is just that we are all relatively quiet. Perhaps it is because we do not know each other very well? I never really met Celeborn, or this Haldir fellow that Alyssa and her friends keep talking about. They're here, as well as Lirulin, Ponce (who does not always seem so bad...), Erestor and Gil-galad. Quite an odd combination, I know. And to put me into the mix, we have elves of both sexes, three different Ages, four different homelands, three Houses of the Noldor and, Eru, four different hair colours.

It is times like this when I miss my brothers, namely Maitimo. Celeborn and Haldir know each other, as do (obviously) Lirulin and Ponce, leaving Gil-galad and I. Let me say I have always held him in high regard for what he did for our people during the Second Age, but I never liked him much as a person. He is far too clingy and annoying, not leaving me alone for five seconds without another question being fired at me. *high pitched, whiny, childish voice* "How many times did you walk past my palace in Lindon? Did you like it? Did you notice the statue of a horse I had built in your name? Blah blah blah blah blah." *shudder*

I would rather be tied to a screaming Orc than be anywhere near him. Ponce almost sounds sane and friendly compared to Gil-galad, and that is quite a lot coming from me.

We, the Quendi, are not the only ones here, actually. Those muses from Lornil: Chelsea, Frilo and Orion. They are very strange in my opinion. I would like to get to know them more, however. I think that they would be interesting people to try and talk to, if I could only learn that language they keep talking in.

Chelsea, Orion and Frilo have been here on and off for a number of years. Chelsea and Orion for a few years longer than myself (probably four or five). Either way, they seem like nice people - at least Chelsea does, probably because she is the only female. I don't trust Frilo, although he is getting better. I suppose he is one of those characters that one needs to know for a while before learning to like him. He reminds me of Morifinwë, and, dare I say, myself? I wish I could say the likeness between he and I ended at our appearance, for we both have a thin face, dark hair (yes, I did write "hare" here, albeit unintentionally), and coal-grey eyes.




Alyssa is working on genealogies and other such things of Chelsea, Frilo and Orion, and at the same time she is re-writing her copy of my family tree (that being all of my Father’s and uncles’ various relations). I am always interested in seeing it, for some reason.



One more question: why was my statue of a horse? A horse!? A crab, or an albatross, perhaps, I could understand. They live by the water, and even the word "crab" fits my character well. Even a blasted seagull would have been fine! But a horse?

fall

I still feel guilty.

Posted on 2005.03.24 at 23:12
Current Mood: boredbored
Current Music: nothing
We actually typed most of this out on Christmas, the rest about two days ago. *shrug*

Never A ChildCollapse )

fall

My life is filled with angst...

Posted on 2005.03.06 at 11:05
Current Mood: goodgood
Current Music: Titanic soundtrack
Then again, the meaning of my name seems to be "angst." Who knows.

I don't know why I've been thinking of Ambarussa's death today - the one who Father killed was still on the ship when we burned them. He once told us of it; the pain, worsened by his confusion and fear, and the agony of the flames burning first through his clothes, his hair, finally his skin and flesh. One of his most prominent memories is the smell of his burning flesh... somehow, he says, it is more horrible when it is mixed with the pain than having to smell the remnants of those who were defeated by Gothmog and his fiery kin. And, from my own experience, the scent of those who died of essentially being melted by the beasts alone is horrible. It is one of those things that never leaves the memory, no matter how diluted the actual visual memory is, nor the utter taste of it on one's tongue...

Ambarussa was lucky, in a way, that he never saw that.... Though what is most prevalent in his memory is his acute, anger at our father. It is an anger unweakened by the span of centuries, even milennia. During those painful moments, he hated our father more than he ever had before, and his hatred, too, has not been weakened by the passage of time. He is the only one here not to speak when there is a mention of Father's name, or indeed the Silmarils or anything mildly relevant to our Father, instead he recuses himself and leaves for a while. No one knows where he goes to, although it is normally a matter of hours before he returns, cheery and smiling. He prides himself on his self-control around others, for I suspect that when he is away he is pounding walls and screaming about Fëanáro and his wickedness. He has never once said anything derogatory of Father around me, and I admire him for that.

I look at his suffering, the scars that he even carried on his body when he was reborn, even the small flamelike "birthmark" on his ankle. I never saw any of them, for I never saw him, though they were there. I imagine those things were there because of his subconscious mind, the pain and the scars it still bore, even after an age of Waiting. I would also think they are another reason behind his ongoing resentment and hatred. A constant reminder, as it were.

The scars on my right hand seem diminished in importance in comparison, and though, indeed, our hand hurts on occasion, I won't say anything about it to him. Since he is here, though, I wouldn't be surprised if he felt the pain also.

And, by the way, I changed the look of my journal. I don't know if I like the look of lightning... actually, I think I will change it again. Quite soon, if not now.

Edit: Red. Much better.

to Alyssa's friend from skating

Posted on 2005.01.31 at 00:01
Current Mood: blahblah
Current Music: nothing
It's late here, and the body is quite tired, so I will be brief.

Margaret, dear, those were some quite interesting references you made to us the other day... and, yes, I was the one talking to you for a few moments before we had to run off again.

What a tiring job that was.

If you ever do find your muse's journal, please friend me.

And, by the way, Margaret, I have always been obsessed with tea. Just ask any of my brothers, cousins, etc.

fall

sick?

Posted on 2005.01.19 at 21:27
Current Mood: coldcold
Current Music: nothing
I realised that there is only one good thing about the body being sick - everyone here is agreeable to drinking large amounts of tea. I have by us now a cup of one of my favorite greens...

Having a cold or a flu or whatever this virus may be is quite humorous because no matter what race we come from, age we are or anything of the sort, this sickness is the Great Equalizer. No, I am not talking of death this time.

We are all very lethargic, slow and constantly tired (and a good portion of us are crabby as well). Even though I myself am this way, there is great satisfaction that comes from seeing Blondie not able to ponce as well as usual.

I only wish that could happen more often.


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