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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.

[eyrienprince]

Lucivar's not quite as good about connecting psychic scents as Jaenelle is, but there's a family resemblance, and that's enough to make him look for the similarities, and that makes him vanish the knife he was practicing with and go striding down to the lake, stretching his wings absently.

[broodingelf]

Wings. If imaginary relatives are depressingly familiar, that's just surreal. As the person attached to them seems to be heading towards him, he watches, waits, and inclines his head as he draws near.

[eyrienprince]

Lucivar inclines his head back and pauses, a relatively safe distance away. He's heard things about relatives of his little brothers. "Hello," he says carefully, looking him up and down curiously. "I think I know some family of yours."

[broodingelf]

He pales a little, eyes widening in surprise; that's not a statement he gets every day. "How's that?"

It ought to be impossible, and doesn't really help this guy's case for being real, although dreaming up entirely new people is a new one on Maglor.

[gypsysorceress]

*Esmeralda likes people who like travellers. And so, when she sees Maglor by the lake, and goes to sit next to him, a spring in her step, the coins in her hair jingling a bit* Hello.

[broodingelf]

*well, this one isn't obviously imaginary, at least, but we're not making any assumptions just yet. He inclines his head* Good evening.

[gypsysorceress]

*cheerful enough* And good evening to you. The sun is pretty at this time of day, isn't it?

[broodingelf]

*weather being a quite comforting topic right now, and the sun actually being quite pretty, have a small quarter-smile* It is, it is. Have you come from the house?

[pandora_antioch]

He’ll come across a woman, brown hair, very beautiful, with olive skin burnt by the sun, who is reading a book of Latin poetry without a need for light. She’s smiling to herself, and mouthing the words with relish.

[broodingelf]

He isn't inclined to interrupt such obvious enjoyment, so for some moments he only watches curiously, waiting for a pause. Seeing what looks like one, he steps forward. "Is there no better light to read?"

[pandora_antioch]

She looks up - she's felt his presence for a while, and took the pause purposefully so.

A wry smile. "There is, but I do not feel the need for it."

[broodingelf]

"No fear of eyestrain?"

[sissy_queen]

And here’s a Medieval Queen, lost somewhat. She notices the Elf, doesn’t quite note that he’s not a human, and closes the distance, stopping close enough, though, shyly.

“Pardon me?”

[broodingelf]

He'd be very worried if she did notice! He's been passing for a long time now, though possibly a lot of it was people not having a point of comparison. He looks at her kindly, notes the shyness (sympathizes), the old-fashioned air. "Yes?"

[sissy_queen]

"I seem to have lost my way, good sir. Might you direct me to Sir Percival's home?"

[broodingelf]

He looks apologetic. "I'm afraid I'm just a traveler here; I do not know the way."