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[broodingelf]

An(other) Elf, yes. This one comes walking out from the trees, looking as though he's come walking a long way: his clothes (modern, denim and cotton) are worn and dusty, his hair wind-tangled. What he doesn't look is surprised to be here. It might seem familiar -- after a point everything begins to seem familiar -- more likely, he's just been

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[time_willdecide]

The lake seems to be a favorite location among Elves, and it isn't too long after that a pair of redheaded Elves wander toward the water side by side. They pause briefly when they see someone sitting there, then stare when they realize he's familiar.

Quietly, hesitantly, one calls over. They can't be seeing who they think they're seeing, but... "...Cano?"

[broodingelf]

He turns, sharply, because of course no one calls him that -- and while entirely sure he isn't seeing what he thinks he's seeing, he's still surprised (it hadn't felt as though they'd be coming on, not recently; it was nice). So at first he just regards them silently, unhappily, waiting for them to do their thing. He thinks: you, what do you want now, and imagines they can tell.

[time_willdecide]

They're startled by his reaction, and they know that something is wrong, very very wrong. "Cano?" His voice falters. "...Are you alright?"

[broodingelf]

He looks away; back again, resignation beginning to edge out surprise. "I'd thought so." A little rough, his voice, it having been some little time since he had occasion to use it.

[time_willdecide]

Their hearts break a little. His voice. One takes a small, tentative step towards him. "Cano..." what's wrong? what's happened to you? "...it's good to see you."

[broodingelf]

Everything! He knows if he encourages them they'll never go away, he does, but he's been too accustomed to this waking nightmare to not react "It's been a while, hasn't it." Bitter.

[time_willdecide]

The bitterness worries them more. "I suppose it has. ...How long exactly has it been? The only family we've seen since...since we died, is Findarato, and he wasn't sure."

[broodingelf]

"Do you expect me to count?" he begins, but is cut off as they continue. And stares. "This is new."

[time_willdecide]

"What is?" one asks slowly. Maglor's reactions haven't made much sense since they saw him, makes it hard to tell.

[broodingelf]

"You aren't making any sense." His shoulder relatives are normally less confused than this, get straight to the point. He rubs his temples, wonders: what brought this on? "The answer is still no."

[time_willdecide]

They exchange a look. Still? They haven't seen him in centuries. Millenia. "The answer to what is no?"

[broodingelf]

Seriously, isn't the point of hallucinations that they know what you're thinking? "What are you trying to get across?" He sighs. "This wasn't your sort of time."

[time_willdecide]

"What is our sort of time, then?" One moves a few more steps closer, followed by the other. "We're worried about you, Cano. What's going on?"

[broodingelf]

"How should I know, I didn't call you up." He looks away from them, out at the lake, vainly hoping they'll disappear if he's not watching. Half to himself (as it were): "I'm worried about me too, believe me."

[time_willdecide]

The nearer twin crosses the last distance between them as Maglor looks out at the water and kneels beside him. "Cano, please." He puts a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Tell us what's wrong."

[broodingelf]

Now, figments are not much with the realistic imaginary sense of touch. Maglor stiffens completely, face drained of blood, and he turns to stare. He reaches gingerly for the twin's wrist, only to release it again at the distinctly solid feel of skin and bone. "That-- that's new."