WHO: louis & co. WHAT: catch all for post event, ect. WHERE: horizon. solvunn. nocwich. WHEN: april showers & may flowers. WARNINGS: ptsd aspects might arise and any canon usual warnings will be tagged.
[ She does not voice the question with any doubt, but in truth, her friend has yet to fully express all that had happened to him in the wake of that particular trial — what Galadriel knows is that it has been difficult for him since, that he has struggled to reconcile whatever occurred there with the elf he possessed a fuller understanding of before.
That the man standing before her now is one who not only has a familiarity with her friend but had been present alongside him is a revelation that gives Galadriel herself new understanding, and she straightens her posture somewhat, maintaining the steadiness of her gaze on his. ]
He has not spoken much of his time there. [ So it then stands to reason that he has not spoken of any acquaintances, but she does not believe she needs to elaborate. Nevertheless, she nods in acceptance at his invitation, and rather than properly wait for him to lead them both in the right direction she brooks no issue with stepping forward herself, alongside him, so they can walk through the doors together. ]
Is this a place that exists in your world? This Storyville.
{ there's a gentle tone when he speaks as if a few strung words could say a whole weighted story. they did spend a couple hours, louis making sure elrond didn't hurt himself, and partly louis to keep his sanity. it is not his to say on elrond's behalf. he can only comment so much, and some aspects of the pit he will hold close. part of him wants to forget it as if it never occurred, but he is unable to. it's easier to attempt to move on by mingling to his capacity. he'll always find a way to run away from what nips at his heels, at least until he's able to control it.
they keep outside, the doors welcoming while he glances over and then back to someone that has no connection to his world. it's refreshing. }
It burned down. There's something about reclaiming one's past that I can't seem to give up. What is moving on if we can't accept what made us?
{ if galadriel decides to take a peek, she'll see a piece of storyville taken from what once had been his club. it's the courtyard where a band used to play and tables amassed to watch a show. the fountain is in the middle. he modified it to be a place for people to gather as it all had once been. no one has entered the home attached to it yet, a lot quieter in the distance where the levels of the house only leave to the imagination as one goes up. }
[ A moment of understanding passes between them, in spite of the fact that Galadriel does not press for more — there are few who would earn this privilege from her, though she has not earned herself much in the way of allegiance with her tendency to boldly pry first and beg forgiveness later.
With anything that pertains to Elrond himself, however, she knows likely more than anyone else here what he has endured, long before the kidnappings and what may have ensued afterward. His life has been a series of hardships, though he has never allowed it to fully diminish his light. ]
I am sorry. [ For the fact that this place, which seems at once full of energies even though they are the only witnesses to it, no longer lives anywhere save his memory, and while she does not have any previous encounter to compare it to, she is still left with the impression that he has devotedly recreated it. ]
I had thought to base my own Horizon on a place that is very dear to me in memory, although I can no longer return. [ The golden hills in Valinor, where she spent many a peaceful afternoon as a young elf, making paper boats and doing her best to determine how many of them she could sail down the closest river. ] Not until my time in Middle-earth has reached its end.
[ She says all of this while she walks, gaze sweeping over and through the gates, taking in the courtyard and all of the tables — clearly this is intended to be a gathering place of some kind. But rather than sound saddened or distressed by this admission, she merely offers it in a resolute tone, something that is inevitable — and in the eyes of the elves, sailing to the Undying Lands is considered an honor, rather than a fate to dread. ]
{ if he has gathered enough understanding, galadriel was also one of clusters that arrived with him, but to a different faction. it could all have been randomized to have been kidnapped, but it does not matter in the end. it happened. louis will continue to endure.
it's that quiet understanding when someone gets it. it makes him further inclined to understand other immortals and if galadriel also has the same views on peace as elrond. her title may speak otherwise, but prying can occur if it arises in the future. }
I met another Summoned who told me her people don't say sorry. Instead they say mati en sheva yelu, which translates to 'This action will have no echo'. Mistakes won't be repeated, harm will cease. Idealistic, but I like it.
{ he finds the optimism appealing, especially for him who had begun to see death as boring. the pit had dashed some of what he arrived with in mind, but it still lingers at the back, and part of him has to wonder how she sees death if he had only managed to have a century and a half and be jaded from it. is he weak for it? he thinks it'll be too much to unfold in what is a stranger.
for a moment, his face looks contemplative. with a gleam to his eyes that indicate how he can transition from saying something somber to a lightness in his tone, he is appreciative for galadriel's ease. louis can be a proud man, and what he's building is an extension of himself. }
I'd like to visit yours if you ever do take guests. Mine is modest for now. { considering that they have the ability to will anything, he has kept his contained. he walks over to the foundation, the three tier home attached is illuminating behind with the lights on inside, seeming alive and empty at the same time. the water is soothing when he reaches over to flick his hand under the cascade. }
[ The smile that flickers over her features is brief, but given how inscrutable her expression can be on most occasions it is equivalent to a much more brilliant one — and she gives an acknowledging nod, a visible appreciation of the sentiment behind the words that she has never heard before. ]
It is a wise saying, as well as a reminder of the futility of holding onto so much regret, especially when there is only so much that can truly be changed in the wake of an event.
[ She does find it somewhat amusing that he considers his domain a more modest one, especially when it is so clearly inspired by a place that is dear to him, and she slowly follows him over toward the fountain, its idle trickling conjuring her own vivid memories of sitting by the river in her favorite field, crafting paper boats and trying to sail them down. ]
I would. [ It is more telling, perhaps, that she has yet to extend an invitation to anyone else, but that is because she doesn't believe her piece of the Horizon to be complete. Perhaps it may never be fully finished in her view, but there should not be anything stopping her from sharing it with others as it is now. ]
Is it any less real for existing here? [ Perhaps it is a rhetorical question, but she has learned not to underestimate the power that dreams can hold, and this place seems to be between waking and dreams itself. ]
{ it is no surpise louis has crafted a domain at face value. even in the horizon he seeks to tightly wind the control he's able to have. deep down he knows even if he can will at whim, he can't hide everything underneath his poise air. the glances up towards the top level, the towering third floor a place he chose to preserve even if it is less of what he wants to show. if anyone one stepped on the roof the vertigo would be instant and the domain will seem thousands of feet away from the ground.
he does not wish the feeling upon anyone. louis likes to feel the ground below him. he sits upon the fountain's edge, crossing his leg over the other. }
I would be honored. { he would understand if it takes a long time. time is something he does have to spare. thankfully he's able to answer her questions considering the few instances he interacted with others having been around longer from alucard to istredd. }
I was told it's as real. I still don't understand this Singularity, but to my knowledge it's what feeds the magic in Abraxas. Reminds me of the Dark Gift. I don't know how Elven kind came to be, but vampires were made from the spirit combining with flesh and blood. Supposedly all of us are connected somehow. Means there is a way for all of us to perish at once. Our kind can gain other abilities as we age. My companion back home can walk in daylight for example. Usually I wouldn't be interested, but I've been thinking of trying to go there, whatever there might be.
[ She does not extend an offer she has no intention of honoring, and given that Louis has already graciously invited her into his domain she sees no reason not to do the same in return. There will be noted differences, of course; she still needs to decide upon which structure she might place within the golden fields, perhaps next to the babbling stream that gave her so much enjoyment as a young elf when she was crafting paper boats and trying to see which one would sail down its length the fastest.
She stands before him, as he sits, and then decides to join him in his perch, seating herself quietly, her hands lightly clasped in her lap as she glances over in his direction. ]
The Dark Gift. Then you are not human.
[ She utters it more as a confirmation of her previous suspicions instead of anything resembling a question, but neither is she scrutinizing him differently, or studying him in any other manner than she had previously, but judging by the expression that flickers over her features it is more of a prompting for him to continue rather than condemnation. ]
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abraxaslogs2023-04-14 01:52 am
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[ She does not voice the question with any doubt, but in truth, her friend has yet to fully express all that had happened to him in the wake of that particular trial — what Galadriel knows is that it has been difficult for him since, that he has struggled to reconcile whatever occurred there with the elf he possessed a fuller understanding of before.
That the man standing before her now is one who not only has a familiarity with her friend but had been present alongside him is a revelation that gives Galadriel herself new understanding, and she straightens her posture somewhat, maintaining the steadiness of her gaze on his. ]
He has not spoken much of his time there. [ So it then stands to reason that he has not spoken of any acquaintances, but she does not believe she needs to elaborate. Nevertheless, she nods in acceptance at his invitation, and rather than properly wait for him to lead them both in the right direction she brooks no issue with stepping forward herself, alongside him, so they can walk through the doors together. ]
Is this a place that exists in your world? This Storyville.
no subject
{ there's a gentle tone when he speaks as if a few strung words could say a whole weighted story. they did spend a couple hours, louis making sure elrond didn't hurt himself, and partly louis to keep his sanity. it is not his to say on elrond's behalf. he can only comment so much, and some aspects of the pit he will hold close. part of him wants to forget it as if it never occurred, but he is unable to. it's easier to attempt to move on by mingling to his capacity. he'll always find a way to run away from what nips at his heels, at least until he's able to control it.
they keep outside, the doors welcoming while he glances over and then back to someone that has no connection to his world. it's refreshing. }
It burned down. There's something about reclaiming one's past that I can't seem to give up. What is moving on if we can't accept what made us?
{ if galadriel decides to take a peek, she'll see a piece of storyville taken from what once had been his club. it's the courtyard where a band used to play and tables amassed to watch a show. the fountain is in the middle. he modified it to be a place for people to gather as it all had once been. no one has entered the home attached to it yet, a lot quieter in the distance where the levels of the house only leave to the imagination as one goes up. }
no subject
[ A moment of understanding passes between them, in spite of the fact that Galadriel does not press for more — there are few who would earn this privilege from her, though she has not earned herself much in the way of allegiance with her tendency to boldly pry first and beg forgiveness later.
With anything that pertains to Elrond himself, however, she knows likely more than anyone else here what he has endured, long before the kidnappings and what may have ensued afterward. His life has been a series of hardships, though he has never allowed it to fully diminish his light. ]
I am sorry. [ For the fact that this place, which seems at once full of energies even though they are the only witnesses to it, no longer lives anywhere save his memory, and while she does not have any previous encounter to compare it to, she is still left with the impression that he has devotedly recreated it. ]
I had thought to base my own Horizon on a place that is very dear to me in memory, although I can no longer return. [ The golden hills in Valinor, where she spent many a peaceful afternoon as a young elf, making paper boats and doing her best to determine how many of them she could sail down the closest river. ] Not until my time in Middle-earth has reached its end.
[ She says all of this while she walks, gaze sweeping over and through the gates, taking in the courtyard and all of the tables — clearly this is intended to be a gathering place of some kind. But rather than sound saddened or distressed by this admission, she merely offers it in a resolute tone, something that is inevitable — and in the eyes of the elves, sailing to the Undying Lands is considered an honor, rather than a fate to dread. ]
no subject
it's that quiet understanding when someone gets it. it makes him further inclined to understand other immortals and if galadriel also has the same views on peace as elrond. her title may speak otherwise, but prying can occur if it arises in the future. }
I met another Summoned who told me her people don't say sorry. Instead they say mati en sheva yelu, which translates to 'This action will have no echo'. Mistakes won't be repeated, harm will cease. Idealistic, but I like it.
{ he finds the optimism appealing, especially for him who had begun to see death as boring. the pit had dashed some of what he arrived with in mind, but it still lingers at the back, and part of him has to wonder how she sees death if he had only managed to have a century and a half and be jaded from it. is he weak for it? he thinks it'll be too much to unfold in what is a stranger.
for a moment, his face looks contemplative. with a gleam to his eyes that indicate how he can transition from saying something somber to a lightness in his tone, he is appreciative for galadriel's ease. louis can be a proud man, and what he's building is an extension of himself. }
I'd like to visit yours if you ever do take guests. Mine is modest for now. { considering that they have the ability to will anything, he has kept his contained. he walks over to the foundation, the three tier home attached is illuminating behind with the lights on inside, seeming alive and empty at the same time. the water is soothing when he reaches over to flick his hand under the cascade. }
It's feels real here. Still gettin' used to it.
no subject
It is a wise saying, as well as a reminder of the futility of holding onto so much regret, especially when there is only so much that can truly be changed in the wake of an event.
[ She does find it somewhat amusing that he considers his domain a more modest one, especially when it is so clearly inspired by a place that is dear to him, and she slowly follows him over toward the fountain, its idle trickling conjuring her own vivid memories of sitting by the river in her favorite field, crafting paper boats and trying to sail them down. ]
I would. [ It is more telling, perhaps, that she has yet to extend an invitation to anyone else, but that is because she doesn't believe her piece of the Horizon to be complete. Perhaps it may never be fully finished in her view, but there should not be anything stopping her from sharing it with others as it is now. ]
Is it any less real for existing here? [ Perhaps it is a rhetorical question, but she has learned not to underestimate the power that dreams can hold, and this place seems to be between waking and dreams itself. ]
no subject
he does not wish the feeling upon anyone. louis likes to feel the ground below him. he sits upon the fountain's edge, crossing his leg over the other. }
I would be honored. { he would understand if it takes a long time. time is something he does have to spare. thankfully he's able to answer her questions considering the few instances he interacted with others having been around longer from alucard to istredd. }
I was told it's as real. I still don't understand this Singularity, but to my knowledge it's what feeds the magic in Abraxas. Reminds me of the Dark Gift. I don't know how Elven kind came to be, but vampires were made from the spirit combining with flesh and blood. Supposedly all of us are connected somehow. Means there is a way for all of us to perish at once. Our kind can gain other abilities as we age. My companion back home can walk in daylight for example. Usually I wouldn't be interested, but I've been thinking of trying to go there, whatever there might be.
no subject
[ She does not extend an offer she has no intention of honoring, and given that Louis has already graciously invited her into his domain she sees no reason not to do the same in return. There will be noted differences, of course; she still needs to decide upon which structure she might place within the golden fields, perhaps next to the babbling stream that gave her so much enjoyment as a young elf when she was crafting paper boats and trying to see which one would sail down its length the fastest.
She stands before him, as he sits, and then decides to join him in his perch, seating herself quietly, her hands lightly clasped in her lap as she glances over in his direction. ]
The Dark Gift. Then you are not human.
[ She utters it more as a confirmation of her previous suspicions instead of anything resembling a question, but neither is she scrutinizing him differently, or studying him in any other manner than she had previously, but judging by the expression that flickers over her features it is more of a prompting for him to continue rather than condemnation. ]