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

[bythewaves]

Hey Celegorm, ever wondered what older brother looks like when he's going to faint? No? Well. Maglor goes utterly bone white and still, staring with wide eyes, that famous voice silent. You'd think he'd seen a ghost

[avisionofwar]

Celegorm barely seems to notice, wrapped up in his own sentiments, which he was happy to loudly communicate. "It's no wonder you were always such a terrible hunter, always so loud-- almost as loud as Curufin, charging off hither and thither with no concern for what's around you. Head more full of music than sense."

The vitriol of his words faded as he picked himself up, dusting off his neat clothing. Rolling his eyes, he offered a hand down to his brother. And then squinted at his face.

"... what? What's wrong?"

bedtime for me

[bythewaves]

You'll have to forgive him the tears, Celegorm - the last time he saw you he was holding your body after Dior killed you. Maglor still can't manage words, only lunging up to grab for a hug, never mind his hands (his right is the worst, burnt black and charred with white patches, the very nerve endings scorched, the left still a weeping red).

sweet dreams!! /tucks in

[avisionofwar]

Celegorm staggers a little under the heavy hug- but he needs no urging to return it fiercely and tightly, one of his long-fingered hands lightly stroking Maglor's dark hair.

All the heat of his upset dissolves, and instead he clutches Maglor to him, gently consoling; as if they are both children again, and his brother has woken from a nightmare. The reality-- that they are all men grown, and life the nightmare from which there is no waking, no relief-- he tamps down to the back of his mind.

"It's alright. It's alright, I'm here, it's alright. We'll get your hands bandaged and seen to, and they'll heal good as new, you'll see...!" He'll ask what happened later, but the reassurance seems important to him: a musician's hands were almost as important to his work as a scribe's.

good morning~ *goes to fetch caffeine*

[bythewaves]

Any onlookers would have cause to wonder which is the senior here, as Maglor weeps into Celegorm's shoulders and spills tumbled apologies into his shirt.

I am sorry I was not there. I am sorry I let you die. I am sorry I was not good enough to keep you safe. I am sorry I could not make you happy

When the tears slow to something more manageable, Maglor pulls back just enough to look at his brother, memorizing a face he thought he'd never see again

good morning!!

[avisionofwar]

Celegorm stares for a long moment, his expression going increasingly still while he watches his brother weep against him. He moves them, just a little, Maglor nearer to the wall, Celegorm's narrower body shielding him at least a little from any eyes that might see this moment of weakness, this fragility.

Perhaps it is a shadow of the curse upon him, hounding thought and memory, ruthless as wolves in winter. Driving them all Maglor a briefly a little closer to the edge of madness.

So he strokes his brother's back, in the same slow and soothing matter he would gentle an upset horse, and does not speak until Maglor has leaned back a little. "Shhhh, shhhh. Speak no more of such things. I..." He swallowed, thickly. "Show me your hands, Maglor; we must get them cared for."

Re: good morning!!

[bythewaves]

"My hands?" Maglor had almost forgotten - he can barely feel the right, anyway (somewhere he knows this is a bad thing) but he lets Celegorm see them. "Later. You... Turko...Celegorm, how came you here?"

[avisionofwar]

Celegorm flinched visibly at the first syllables of his father-name; he had forsook all reminders of their home in Valinor with the readiness of one who was only ever pained by the memory of all he'd left behind.

"No, not later. I wouldn't leave any hound of mine with wounds like those; I certainly won't let my brother!" One of his hands gripped Maglor's shoulder, while the other lifted, the pad of his thumb neatly brushing away all sign of his brother's tears, smoothing the salty wetness into the skin of his cheeks.

Then he turned his brother, guiding them along the hall. He seems to know the way he walks.

"I was lured here while hunting north of the pass, by the... strangest of fell little creatures. I thought I might capture one to take back with me; but instead, through darkness and mist, they led me here. If you are here also, then you too must possess a shard... tell me what you remember."

[bythewaves]

Maglor knows most of his brothers hate it, but some part of him clings to those days, when they were all more innocent. He still calls them by those names in his thoughts, but tries not to aloud.

"I can barely feel the right" He murmurs, but he follows obligingly. When Celegorm speaks he goes pale again. Impossible, impossible, Celegorm is dead, he held his body in his arms in Doriath and mourned the loss of yet another brother, but here he speaks as if...

"I... that cannot be! Celegorm, Maedhros and I... we just... we were... are the last two left!" He still cannot speak of Maedhros' fate, and that golden tongue trips over itself in his distress.

"We reclaimed the Silmarils." He finally manages. "It seems they did not agree with our claim."

[avisionofwar]

Celegorm tells himself he did not miss a step, hearing that. Tells himself that his heart did not lurch in his breast. He'd known, known the oath would consume him...

... His mouth twists, and he exhales slowly, head tipping back. "But... you reclaimed them. The Oath was satisfied, surely..." Perhaps that's why the darkness of it is not dogging his thoughts? His brothers had satisfied it. And he had died.

He tells himself to keep steady. Not to let his hands shake. To keep his eyes on the hallway path before them. "You're not the only two left anymore."

[bythewaves]

Maglor follows, trusting his brother, as he has always trusted them.

"We did. But... if they reject us? I do not know. I ... threw mine into the sea." Hence the hands.

"No" softer. "I am not alone any more." Can you guess, Celegorm, the words he does not say?