TEST DRIVE MEME

[fairyfoes]

TEST DRIVE MEME

Considering apping to EACHDRAIDH? Why not give the setting a test run here! OPTIONAL SCENARIOS 01. ARRIVING IN THE DRABWURLD. The Seelie and Unseelie courts welcome you with mirthful revelry and hearty food. After you have been briefed on your purpose here, you will find an endless feast and a night filled with entertainment to placate your concerns. Mingle with new arrivals, sneak down the castle halls and make sure your eyes are always on your glass; fairies and imps have no bias when it comes to tricks! 02. THE STATION. Looking for a little slice of home? The Station gives you all that and more. Take advantage of the wifi, have a cup of fairy-brewed coffee (the one they didn't spit in) or sit back and relax on the patio. You can even move your things into one of the available rooms! 03. WILDCARD. Your own scenario! Explore the Drabwurld or simply take advantage of your Locket!

Comments

[heroyic]

[ Roy watches,reduced again to naught but a dark sweep of a gaze and the white knuckles of his hands about his goblet.

He knows nothing about the Ainur minstrelsy, nothing about Ilúvatar's gift, nothing about the wellspring of starlight taken form in each of the Eldar. And yet the song is enough to crack open the door — there's something beyond, grief like the cruel tip of a hook. He can feel his heart beating, the rushing of blood through the narrow confines of his body. To feel so much, to live so long, to hurt and to hurt —

And then it's over, and the raucous fairy-wrought mirth settles back into place around them. For a moment, Roy cannot throw off the silence that has taken him by his throat.

Then: ]

Wow.

[ He jerks up, spine straightening from its quiet curl — his teeth are set against one another. A swipe of his hand across his face, to remove the evidence of his emotional reaction to the song, but even that is of little help; his lashes are dark and clumped. ]

Wow. Damn. [ A huff of laughter, to lighten the heaviness of his tongue. ] If the king thing doesn't work out for you, let me know. You could make millions with that voice.

[firith]

[ Roy ought to hear joyful Elvish songs. The weaving of illumination under Varda's veiling stars which first touched the Eldar is beautiful, he knows, and the song is one close to the hearts of all elves, but to hear the woodland call of summer and crisp green leaves, new life — it would prove far more healing. Those verses no longer lie readied in his breast these days, not easily exhumed.

The surrounding din closes back in on them and what lightness Roy offers to veer the subject away from any awkward emotions is immediately picked up by Thranduil, in part because he has no idea what manner of compliment he received albeit actually being one. ]

Millions of what?

[ Songs, he supposes, but who would want to make millions? That's a little much even for the Elvenking himself. ]