Party tiiiime

[elvenking]

CHARACTERS: All the people.
LOCATION: O2 Gardens.
WARNINGS: Drunkenness and things.
SUMMARY: Thranduil made mead. This is as good an excuse as a wood-elf needs to throw a party.
NOTES: The announcement was made here, three days ago. The invite is totally open.



The Elvenking has designated a specific clearing as the "party circle." Really, there should be a fire and lanterns, but those are bad ideas on a space ship and Ned would go nuts, so he has made the area look as festive as possible. Meaning he has thrown down a few blankets and propped up the cask of mead on a sort of quadripod. Food is laid buffet-style on one of the blankets--breads, meats, fruits, hearty cooked root vegetables, cheese, butter, and honey among them, plus whatever the other guests brought (Thranduil's provided food is pretty low-prep).

The mead itself is very good, clear and smooth and sweet. But for those who aren't crazy about sweet wines, no matter how manly and traditional (and potent) they are, others have brought other forms of booze. Someone is playing music to dance to at any given time--harp, drum, fiddle, and flute in various combinations.

Have a good time.

Comments

oops his bad>__>

[makalaure]

"Mm. It was something he played at the Mereth Aderthad. That was another such gathering of many varied people. It was the only time we ever met in person, though once or twice Findarato exchanged letters for us." He smiles faintly and looks down at his harp. "Well... less letters and more musical notes. "

[summerlord]

"A beautiful exchange of ideas it must have been," Elrond murmured. He would have asked to hear more, but the last thing that Elrond wants to do is cause undue stress to Maglor's hand. He's still very conscious of it, gaze resting on the injury now and again as he speaks. He can't help it; he's been trying but still finds himself looking now and again, cataloging the scars and attempting to calculate the level of pain.

[makalaure]

"It was. ... I imagine the exchange would not be so cordial now, however," he added, sighing and taking another drink of his mead.

Elrond's repeated glances at his hand did not go unnoticed, however, and Maglor eventually lifted an eyebrow and held the hand out towards him, palm up. "Will it ease your mind to examine it again or will it continue to remain forefront?'

/because when in doubt, random icon it.

[summerlord]

"Perhaps not," Elrond allowed, "but you may find yourself surprised." Maglor did take in two frightened children that Daeron might hold some passing interest in.

Whatever else Elrond might have said, though, is pushed aside by the offer Maglor made. For a moment, he was silent, somewhat chagrined that he'd been caught. "No. My apologies."

bahahaha xD

[makalaure]

Maglor chuckled dryly and withdrew his hand. "I am not sure yet whether you worry too much or just enough," he teased.

I will just forever random icon you.

[summerlord]

"I do not worry," he returned. "If I am ever concerned, it is a practical and legitimate one."

yes good

[makalaure]

Maglor lifted an eyebrow at that. "Is that so?" It was clear he didn't believe it for a moment.

[summerlord]

"It is truth." He said it mildly -- and while not looking in Maglor's direction at all.

[makalaure]

"I suppose truth is in the eye of the beholder...," Maglor conceded, still not believing it at all.

[summerlord]

Elrond only hummed lowly, in some sort of agreement. It was an argument he would never win -- not with Maglor, at any rate. (And mostly likely not with anyone who knew him well at all.) And so, with that in mind, he did the only thing he could: he changed the subject. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

[makalaure]

Maglor gave a noncommittal hum in return. "I am enjoying the music of hobbits and dwarves."

[summerlord]

He smiled at that. "They both are filled with life, are they not?"

[makalaure]

"That they are. The hobbits are particularly full of joy, it seems, or at least Merry and his songs are. I have yet to meet any others."

[summerlord]

"Hobbits are truly remarkable creatures," Elrond said, and his gaze turns almost wistful. "We could learn much from them."

[makalaure]

"I am sure we could, though for now I am content to learn their music." He paused again, thoughtful. "Whence do they come? Do you know?"

[summerlord]

"They keep mostly to themselves," Elrond said in answer. "Their Shire is their own and it is my hope that it shall ever be so." He glanced at Maglor. "What they lack in stature, they more than make up for in heart."

[makalaure]

"So it would seem. I hope it ever remains so, as well. Would that the innocent could remain so..."

[summerlord]

"That is rarely the case," Elrond says quietly.

[makalaure]

Maglor says nothing in response to that but instead resumes playing his harp, deliberately shifting away from the more mournful tunes he favors.