(Untitled)

[aj_crawley]

" - just think we ought to consider the possibility that it was sent to us for a reason, my dear. That's all."

"Yeah, well. That's what he said."

Three figures tromp down the stairs into the bar, one after the other. First Andrew, slightly dusty but no worse for the wear after his morning adventure. Then Aziraphael, clutching a large, dark volume

Comments

[starrydome]

There's an elf lord in the Bar. The rubble and debris make him look even more out of place than he normally does.

His bright, grey eyes take in the appearance of the three approaching figures. Two of which give him pause.

Not Men. Not elves. Something else. And they have a book.

An old-looking, weighty tome.

While it is entirely possible that it has no bearing what so ever on the proceedings at hand, Elrond is a loremaster and so it seems natural to him, that these people might know more of what is happening. And where it will lead.

He stands and walks over to the threesome. "Excuse me," he says, well-modulated baritone sounding almost, but not quite British. "I couldn't help noticing your book."

And the way it's being held. And the fact that you're, well, different. But that would be far too direct. And impolite.

(ooc: any and all puns and/or suggestive comments are entirely coincidental)

[stilljustandrew]

"Lord Elrond," Andrew says by way of greeting. "Uh, elen sila lumenn' omentielvo."

Half a beat, and his mouth twists wryly as he glances at the Observation Window. "So to speak."

[a_fell]

He clutches the book a little more tightly, if that's possible, eyes widening at Andrew's greeting.

"Good evening," he says, and while it lacks something of his usual cheer, it's the best that he can manage. It's difficult to balance the shock of the bar's condition with the shock of coming face to face with someone whose story he loves. Still, he's well aware that this is someone who KNOWS things. He would hardly be surprised to discover that he knew Agnes.

"Do you recognise it?" he asks hopefully.

[aj_crawley]

Crowley - well, Crowley's in the middle of looking around for a waitrat to get rid of this bloody banana skin. But he pauses at this interruption, glancing between Aziraphael and Elrond with something that might be interest, if only he didn't look so...

Well, stressed.

[starrydome]

Elrond shakes his head. "No," he says. "I had hopes that perhaps you might know what is happening here."

He can guess of course.

His guess involves the crumbling of the Door of Night and the release of the Great Betrayer. Which would make less sense here than at home.

[a_fell]

"Oh," he says, trying to keep his disappointment contained. It had been a long shot, anyway.

"It's a book of prophecy," he explains. "With all the prophecy taken out, and a rather unpleasant exclamation on one page. We're not quite sure what it means."

He can also guess, of course.

[starrydome]

"I see," Elrond answer. "Hmm. That does not exactly bode well, does it?"

[a_fell]

"No, not exactly," he admits. "Not well at all, in fact, but the prophetess is rather eccentric. She may just be joking with us."

He looks hopefully at the Book, but his body language says that he doesn't believe it.

[starrydome]

"This does not feel like a jest," Elrond murmurs."This feels like an ending." Then he looks back at Aziraphael.

"In my world, the end is an all-consumung battle," he says. Hoping against hope that Arda is alone in this.

[starrydome]

"Yes, that greeting does take on a new tone here. Although I would prefer familiar stars.Dancing a different dance as it were."

"Things here are coming apart at a deeper level than what we might observe, are they not?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I ... I think so. It feels like it is."

And then the Night will come, he stops himself from saying.

[starrydome]

"And all things must end," Elrond murmurs.