*has just come from here and a drink of water, and is looking unusually disintersted in everything around him, and unwontedly disdainful of anything he does degin to take note of* *scans through a bookshelf, looking for something to hold his interest, and finding nothing, settles for gazing out the window with an air of studied ennui*

Typist ( Read more... )

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...What did we do to them?

Written in the old script, from before Fëanor improved upon Rumil's letters.

( Open letter to himself )

I think I'm lost. I don't know how I got here, anyway. But I met Náro and Irissë and they're both really nice, so it's allright. I sort of wish Ada was here, though. And Curufinwë, because he'd know what to do even though he'd laugh at me for being lost.

A scary lady pointed a really big knife at me. This place is weird.

~Nolofinwë Arakáno

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