He does come out of the woods, which is probably going to cause some people considerable alarm - a harp slung over one shoulder and a pack on the other, and singing something that's, unsurprisingly, not the most cheerful thing ever. It sounds like a lament, which is probably what it is. He's not all that tall, surprisingly for his kind, but ( Read more... )

We're leaving, conspicuously discarded, a long, cylindrical thingummy with a number of levers and handles; something resembling the butt of a rifle at one end and a narrow hole in the other. Should the levers, notably the trigger-shaped one, be pulled, nothing much will happen -- unless it's being pointed at someone else. In which case that someone ( Read more... )

This morning there seems to be another new arrival, coming striding out of the woods holding a sword and looking fairly ticked off. He opens his mouth to say something, but the cry dies as he stares at the Mansion. Back at the woods, then at the Mansion again, an expression of "where the hell am I?" beginning to dawn on his face. The new arrival is ( Read more... )

Have a disheveled redhead of medium height, pushing open the door to the Mansion and dropping several large beribboned bags in the entrance hall. Grinning, he calls out: "I'm back!"

The response to this is less than satisfactory. Let's try that again. "And I've got presents!"

T: Everyone's favouritest trickster-god: same journal, new name, old ( Read more... )

Ever since the Key and the Elf were there, he schemed, plotted, his mind bent on escape.

The breach was there, a small shred of light peeks in the wall, taunting him to press his hands to it - feeling for air, for life, for something to corrupt into darkness and evil. And there is.

Children Men, of course, but also the First Born, and other creatures ( Read more... )

The Elvish invasion continues, now in the form of a dark haired elf standing outside the mansion, looking very confused. He's obviously just come from battle, he's still dressed in armor, streaked with sweat and dirt and soot and blood. It's mostly not his. One hand rests on the sword at his hip, but it remains sheathed for now. His past few ( Read more... )

There may be a boat, on the lake, very early this morning.

On this boat, there may be a woman, beautiful, tall and proud, eyes clear as pond water, hair golden to match the Light of the Trees. She looks about, and her eyes fill with wonder and concern - this is not the Great River that leads to Osgiliath. This is not the way to Minas Tirith - ( Read more... )

Many arrivals at the mansion tend to be abrupt, but this one is more so than most. The tall, dark-haired elf is nearly knocked off his feet, which is made easier since he did not expect to be standing just then to begin with. He looks around startled, eyes wide, breathing quick and shallow. He seems as surprised by his own condition (in one ( Read more... )

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 ( Read more... )

There's a note pinned to the bulletin board, or rather an invitation.

You are cordially invited for ice cream and dancing in the ballroom. All are welcome.

-Armand St. Just

[[Several people also got individual invitations including, but not limited to, all the hobbits, any elves that are friendly with or accidentally related to Armand, Karla and any ( Read more... )