Let's just call this the OTA Catchall March post shall we?

[bythewaves]

Who: Maglor + ANYONE
What: various Citadel stuff + whatever
When: Day 417-... let's say the Burning Bridges event
Where: Citadel + Park/Pub/wherever you like
Rating: ...there is scripted violence, so PG I guess?

(ooc: several existing scenarios + come poke me now that I'm officially off hiatus YAY also I now have a plurk that I don't know what to do with here: http://www.plurk.com/bookwormfaith )

Option 1: Sparring with Elrond - closed to Elrond, but you can come watch & comment on two Elf-lords going to town on each other after if you like

Option 2: Training Alice the Elder - ....prrrrrobably closed to Alice and maybe Elrond, but again, if folk would like to watch or comment...

Option 3: The Park - he's usually by the lake, singing. Yes really. Especially late at night when the stars are out. Open as heck come bug him.

Option 4: The Pub - He's here if he's not at the park, also singing (he doesn't have much of a life outside music, I'm sorry) - one thread def. closed to Merlin, else come bug him

Option 5: Choose your own adventure - OTA obviously

Comments

Sparring: Closed to Elrond

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor sleeps as little as possible, due to his nightmares (although sheer exhaustion from healing + several cups of Dorwinion have helped that recently), and so he is here early. Elrond will recognize the blade he trains with - it is the same that he has carried from Valinor, one of only three things he has from his father (the others are his harp, and the star-of-feanor cloak pin). He would not use live steel with any other (at least, not at first), but neither will he demean Elrond by using a practice blade. Besides, he suspects he is far more out of practice than Rivendell's Master at this point. His long hunting knife is in his right hand, not his left as he warms up - a reversal since the last time Elrond saw him, but the right hand's scars make it difficult to hold the longsword for any length of time now.

He also has bow and arrows and a spear set aside, to see if he can remember their use, later - they aren't quite the same as the Elven weapons he's used to, and he is even more out of practice with them than his blades, but he promised Merlin he would see what he could do. ]

.../derps into here

[rivendell_lord]

[Recognize that blade he does, when he arrives just as promised with the elvish blade that had been gifted him. Elrond was of like mind with his foster father, in that he would not lightly train with live steel with just anyone before testing the surface, so to speak. But he knows Maglor, respects him despite all their past, and cares enough to show that respect.]

[He'd noted those scars on Maglor's right hand, and makes no comment as he sets to warming up as well. This was a spar to see what level Maglor is currently at, and to give him challenge to those skills to increase them once more. And perhaps to compare himself to the older elf as well.]

[The bow and arrows, and spear earned a flick of a glance, and he suspected they'd both be experimenting with them later. He bows a little to Maglor, warmth clear in eyes and expression.]

*\o/* (warning: mun sucks at fight scenes)

[bythewaves]

[ Elrond gets a bow in return. Maglor's eyes are already lit bright in anticipation - the dance of battle is something that the gentle bard is surprisingly good at, which has surprised others before, but he knows better than to expect Elrond to have forgotten that.

When Elrond indicates readiness, he gives very little warning before lunging at him - it's a feint with the sword, first - the knife is the true danger, although he doesn't expect either stroke to come close ]

Sparring: Peanut Gallery | Citadel OTA

[bythewaves]

Training Alice: Closed to Alice, and maybe Elrond

[bythewaves]

[ When he and Elrond are done beating on each other to each's satisfaction, he'll look to see if Alice is there. This is just a preliminary thing today - he's set up a dummy for her to show him what she can do, and he's been digging through his memory of his brothers to see what drills he can maybe use. ]

[digophelia]

["Easy does it, just don't question anything."

A year ago marked her freedom from Rutledge, picking up the pieces and moving on. Pris had found her lodgings and a job in Houndsditch which, of course, Bumby was more than happy to oblige.

She was hoping to actually live a normal life, something that she couldn't have Alice was starting to conclude to. But better safe than sorry, as always. It didn't make her feel any less awkward and what imagery she held regarding the Citadel after being told it exactly was.

A former maid coming to a place where knights and kings trained. She can only let out a very dramatic sigh, thinking to herself that it's better at this rate to go in head first without thinking. Otherwise, Alice would second guess herself too much. She slips inside, quietly, very determined not to draw attention to herself from others. She's only here for one thing, nothing else. She's sure that even a simple long-sleeved, knee length dress with her usual boots is strange enough.]

So typical.

[Alice mutters, mostly regarding herself as she enters, suddenly swallowed up by her own self-doubt.]

[bythewaves]

[ sorry Alice he's about to offend your very victorian sensibilities ]

[ Maglor's hair has been braided back from his face, his eyes are still bright and a little feral, but more importantly for Alice, his shirt is off so Elrond could check his injuries and redo his bandages (also he's drenched in sweat and was washing it off). He looks up when he hears her speak ]

Lady Alice! Good morrow gwilwileth, you are in good time, we have just finished.

[digophelia]

[This is the second man without a shirt in the last three days and it's a little alarming. Yes, her Victorian sensibilities are a little offended, if not mortified. Alice ducks her head, of course, even almost pulling her long dark hair in her face just to hide the fluster.

Yeah, she'll just make a point to avoid all eye contact at the moment.]

...

[That isn't a hello. A huff later, Alice nods.]

Of course.

[bythewaves]

[ eh? Oh right, humans are a bit shy about nudity, right. Go get your shirt, Makalaure chuckles memory. At least the bandages covered most things? (but not all the scars, probably, of which he has plenty, old and faded though they be) ]

Your pardon, gwilwileth. [ he is amused, a little, but he won't tease ] There! I am decent again and you may look. I am sorry for startling you so.

The Pub: Closed to Merlin

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor promised to tell Merlin his story, and he's also promised him a drink. So, here he is at his usual, although for once he isn't working, with the last glass of Dorwinion saved for Merlin (although he kinda wishes he'd saved some for himself too) ]

[dragonspeak]

[Merlin finds him quickly enough once he scans the pub. He takes a seat next to him, taking in Maglor's solemn expression with a glance.]

I see you started without me.

[Merlin says softly, nodding at the glass. There's no doubt Merlin's curious to hear Maglor's tale, but he knows he must steel himelf; from the way Maglor had frozen on the battlefield, to the way Maglor had looked as he touched on it briefly after, Merlin knows it's going to be painful.]

so... uh how much tldr do you want me to go into here =p

[bythewaves]

[ a soft amused sound and Maglor pushes the covered glass towards Merlin ]

I promised you a drink did I not? This one I saved for you. Our patrons saw fit to gift me a bottle of Dorwinion, earlier - this is the last glass. Go slowly, it is quite strong.

as much as you'd like!

[dragonspeak]

Dorwinion? I don't think I've heard of that one before. [Merlin reaches for the glass, curious despite the wariness. Gaius wasn't kidding when he said Merlin couldn't hold his drink at all.]

I suppose this'll help somewhat when we're...talking.

ON YOUR OWN HEAD BE IT then =p 1/3 I think

[bythewaves]

"It might." Maglor sighs, eyes going distant. "Our tale is a long one, and will probably need it. So."

He alternates between song and story, for that is always how he has told his tale, and some things are best told through music, even if he lacks his natural abilities here.

The story begins in Paradise, with a King whose wife dies bearing him a son. That son grows up proud and tall and brilliant, amazing all around him, but the King desires more children, and so he marries again, and despite all his love for his father, the son grows to resent his younger half-brothers, and despise his stepmother, for fear of them stealing away his father. He creates, and creates, for the son is restless, and his creations are marvelous and wonderful, and with his wife he brings seven magnificent sons into the world, and everyone thinks he is done. And then he creates three great jewels which trap the living light from before moon and sun in their crystalline heart, and they draw the attention of the Enemy.

Soft words he speaks, the Dark Enemy of the World, weaving truth together with lie until they are indistinguishable, telling the Son that his brothers usurp his place. But he overreaches himself, desiring the jewels, and the Son shuts the door in his face, and he grows wroth with rage. Darkness comes to Paradise, which has known only Light, and the Father lies dead at the Enemy's feet, the Jewels stolen, and the Son goes mad with grief and rage, and swears a most terrible Oath.

2/3

[bythewaves]

"So he swore, and so also did we." Says Maglor, voice soft and terrible in the hush of the tavern, for his voice and tale holds his audience spellbound, even here. "That none would stand before us, who failed to yield us the stolen Jewels."

In rage and grief they go down to the harbor, the Father who was once the Son, and his Seven Sons go with him, and they charge the Shipbuilders to yield them the ships, but they will not. And so they kill them, and Maglor wakes from blood and horror to his wife's body in his arms. Numb and desperate they and their people flee to the other shore, and Father burns the boats to stop them returning. But his youngest, bright Amras, who mother once named "Fated" is asleep onboard, and so the prophecy that cursed them who stained hands with their kin's blood in Paradise begins its first fatal movement forwards. They assail their enemy, but He is so much greater than they, and Father dies there, and now they who were Seven are only Six.

Time marches on, and their kin find them, who were abandoned on one side of the Sea, and Maedhros is captured and then rescued, and yields the kingship to his Uncle with the first rising of the sun. They hold the siege but cannot assail him, and centuries of warfare pass with death and loss and grief. Eventually, one of the jewels comes into the hands of another Elven King, and they assail him, the Six, when he refuses to yield it to them. Blood and death and a Kingdom once great lies now in ruins, and the Six are now Three, and yet the Jewel escapes them. Again word comes, that the King's Daughter holds the Jewel, in the refugee city that she, child-princess rules. And they send to her, and she refuses them, and so once more they drown themselves in the blood of their kin. Yet at the last she defies them, and takes the jewel with her into the sea, leaving only her twin sons, and the Three are now only Two.

3/3

[bythewaves]

Her two boys they take, as hostage, as weregild, as amends, neither of the Two can tell. Yet love grows between them, and the boys call their captors Father, and so Maglor knows that they have to let them go. A star rises in the West, shining with the light of the Jewel, and the Two know that one is beyond their reach forever, and that light heralds the final war, as the Gods leave Paradise to fight their fallen brother. In the end, the world lies broken, the lands they once knew falling into the sea, but the Enemy is overthrown at last, and the Jewels are reclaimed. But not by the Two.

They come alone, this time, unwilling to curse any more of their people, and the Gods let them take the Jewels, and to their horror the Two learn that for all their sins the gems themselves reject them, and burn their hands. Disparing and fey, Maedhros flees from his brother, and throws himself and the jewel into a chasm in the earth, and the Two are now One, and Maglor screams his grief and loss and throws the last into the sea.

His voice is cracked and breaking, and the scars on his right hand have split when he is done, yet Maglor's eyes are dry of tears (they are empty, as if all his life had gone into the telling). "So ends the Noldolante, the tale of the Fall of the House of Feanor."

The Pub: OTA

[bythewaves]

[ As is usual during the dinner mealtime rush, Maglor is up the front, playing. He'll take requests, sorta, and he's happy enough to stop to chat, if you can get past the crowd to him ]

[abhero]

( Because Maglor wanted to hear about his world, and he clearly needs more of a teenage dumbass talking about how awesome he is )

[The crowd means nothing to Hamel - he just drifts lazily above their heads, sitting crossed legs in the air and drinking from a mug he may or may not snatched from someone else. When one of the sadder songs ends, he calls out:]

Dude, I just had a brilliant idea. You can totally stop bar fights by playing music at people. You should apply for another job as a bouncer, ask for a raise.

I love Hamel so much XD

[bythewaves]

[ It is perhaps a sad commentary on Maglor's comfort level here that Hamel's floating form doesn't cause any indication that this is abnormal. Possibly also something about the sorts of friends he makes but no one ever said the Feanoriath were sane ]

I believe that might class as an abuse of Lord Freyr's gift! [ he calls back, shaking out the cramps in his right hand - he's been going for a while, hence the slow turn to the sadder tunes, which tend to be slower and easier on his scars ]

Are you going to come down, or stay up there all night?

[abhero]

If it’s a gift then it’s yours and you can do whatever you want with it. Besides, people punching each other is bad for business, you'll be doing them a favor.

[He turns his mug over and shakes it - not even a single drop falls out.]

And I’m not gonna fly all night, I’ll get tired. ‘M coming done in a minute -

[A waitress passes through the mass of people, and Hamel floats lower to set his now empty mug on her tray and pick up another one. Chances are it was meant for someone else but unlike Maglor, he doesn’t think twice before abusing his power. At least he means to pay for that. Probably.]

- It’s just really comfortable up here.

The Park: OTA

[bythewaves]

[ There's an old willow by the shore that Maglor favors, but you may run into him anywhere. He's sometimes up the old oak on the edges too or even just wandering through the park singing softly in elvish, it depends on his mood. Come harass him ]

[becauseichooseto]

It explains, somewhat, my occasional difficulty in finding you if you spend all your time here up in trees. [He points out, looking up at him in an amused, 'you're a bit odd' sort of way.]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor chuckles from where he's resting on a low branch. He likes oaks, they're steady and not prone to dump you out of their branches because your sindar or silvan soldiers want to get their stuffy noldorian commander to lighten up ]

You make it sound like I spend my life up here. [ but he'll come down anyway ] Tis a comfortable place to rest, merely.

[becauseichooseto]

Can't say I do much tree climbing.

If I were to get a house, Maglor, would you consent to move with me? Purely theoretically at this point.

Choose Your Own Adventure

[bythewaves]