thranduil oropherion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rowancrowned) wrote2015-03-22 06:02 pm
rowancrowned) wrote2015-03-22 06:02 pm
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for notes, letters, etc.
for notes, letters, etc.
( gwenaëlle doesn't linger that long with flint, all things considered—says her piece, hears his, a drink in companionably unhappy quiet. she leaves reassured but drained, disappointed, and unsure in several directions that are not (to thranduil's probable disappointment in turn) the one marked 'whether or not to continue trusting flint'. for all that hardie spends the entire conversation with his head on flint's thigh, he trots after her when she leaves, and they—walk.
a while.
kitty has gone, by the time that she returns. she bypasses her husband entirely, ushering hardie ahead of her and going to sit before her mirror and undo her hair without greeting him. )
a while.
kitty has gone, by the time that she returns. she bypasses her husband entirely, ushering hardie ahead of her and going to sit before her mirror and undo her hair without greeting him. )
[ It all starts with a cup of gently steaming tea, staged on the Research Division Head's desk next to a warm butter croissant. How both are still warm when Thranduil finds them is something of a miracle, or a result of perfect planning. But, regardless, the fruity black tea with hints of lavender and citrus is not unlike a blend one might find in a cafe in Val Royeaux, and the croissant is much the same.
The stuffed nug on the chair at that desk doesn't seem to fit with the theme.
But it might be the establishment of a theme, when a terra cotta nug appears on that very same desk, along with a packet of seeds and instructions:
The culmination of this theme seems to be in the late evening, when a live nug trots past the open office door. Then, Athessa passes the door, clearly in pursuit of the nug.
Moments later, the nug passes by in the opposite direction. Again, followed by Athessa.
This happens a few times until Athessa stops in front of the door, hands on her knees and swearing under her breath. She catches sight of Thranduil with the look of someone caught with their hand in the cookie jar, holds that reaction, then stands up straight. ]
The nug has your last present. [ This said coolly, casually, blithely gesturing to the nug as it once again runs past. Athessa, however, has chosen to ignore it and walks into the office with a shrug. ] Happy Satinalia? I guess.
The stuffed nug on the chair at that desk doesn't seem to fit with the theme.
But it might be the establishment of a theme, when a terra cotta nug appears on that very same desk, along with a packet of seeds and instructions:
- Soak nug in water for half an hour.
- Separately, mix seeds with water to form a paste.
- Empty nug of excess water, place on drip tray.
- Spread seed mixture on nug evenly. Do not water for two days.
- After two days, fill nug with water. Keep full daily.
- Watch the nug grow fur!
The culmination of this theme seems to be in the late evening, when a live nug trots past the open office door. Then, Athessa passes the door, clearly in pursuit of the nug.
Moments later, the nug passes by in the opposite direction. Again, followed by Athessa.
This happens a few times until Athessa stops in front of the door, hands on her knees and swearing under her breath. She catches sight of Thranduil with the look of someone caught with their hand in the cookie jar, holds that reaction, then stands up straight. ]
The nug has your last present. [ This said coolly, casually, blithely gesturing to the nug as it once again runs past. Athessa, however, has chosen to ignore it and walks into the office with a shrug. ] Happy Satinalia? I guess.
[ Have they spoken since he gave her orders to stay on the island? No. Is she coming at this with any sort of respectful repentant preamble? Also no. SCIENCE IS AFOOT. ]
I was told we were in the possession of research regarding something called the germ theory, that could be beneficial to the outbreak treatment. Additionally, are you aware of anyone investigating the possibility of building a microscope or any research that might be related to it?
I was told we were in the possession of research regarding something called the germ theory, that could be beneficial to the outbreak treatment. Additionally, are you aware of anyone investigating the possibility of building a microscope or any research that might be related to it?
I went to Starkhaven with the Boneflayers to do some jobs, have some laughs. Good times. Don't think you'd have much to do there, no old elf stuff you're all about or good places to walk nugs and I reckon your elk'd get stuck going down the streets. But for me? A dwarf? Right laugh.
Thought you'd like some genuine relics.
--Yngvi
[Sent with the note is one (1) toe of a disciple of Andraste preserved in a vial of 'spirits' and one (1) belt buckle featuring the face of Sebastian Vael.]
Thought you'd like some genuine relics.
--Yngvi
[Sent with the note is one (1) toe of a disciple of Andraste preserved in a vial of 'spirits' and one (1) belt buckle featuring the face of Sebastian Vael.]
In addition to the general news updates, Thranduil will receive a message from a Mining Caste researcher in Orzammar named Alvorn Gedic requesting copies of all of Riftwatch's research related to red lyrium. Although the message is fairly formal and terse, in the typical dwarven style, reading between the lines Gedic seems to imply that while only Riftwatch's papers and not its assistance is being officially requested, an offer of help might not go amiss.
What do you get when your assistant vanishes into the ether? No one screening your meetings. Knockity knock.
"Provost, an honour."
There are some advantages to stinking, at all times, like incense and half a cologne counter. Easier to cover other scents.
"Provost, an honour."
There are some advantages to stinking, at all times, like incense and half a cologne counter. Easier to cover other scents.
He brings a bottle with him this time, and if it isn't something Thranduil drinks then it is at least something seen over the course of Flint and Gwenaëlle's 'book club' meetings in which they attempt to stab one another with swords and so must be the sort of thing that she at least will.
Regardless: an olive branch.
"There's a matter I'd like to discuss with you."
Regardless: an olive branch.
"There's a matter I'd like to discuss with you."
An abnormality: Jenny Lou at the door of Thranduil's office, eyes flicking restlessly over the interior before settling on him. She offers him a crooked smile.
"Sorry to bother you, Provost. You got a minute?"
"Sorry to bother you, Provost. You got a minute?"
In the middle of the day, Edgard knocks on Thranduil's door. No response. He waits a moment, looks around to see if anyone's there. He's going to have to get that glass back somehow. He starts sticking something into the lock and wiggles it around for a bit. Just a bit more and then it clicks.
You weren’t there.
At the soirée, I mean. Not that I blame you, of course, but.
I suppose I’m just asking to...
[To what, see if he’s brooding? Sulking? Sad?
No, it’s too uncomfortable, that. He won’t wade so far into stupidity.]
Well. Just asking.
[And besides, he can’t exactly check on Gwen either, now that she’s clearly pulled back.]
At the soirée, I mean. Not that I blame you, of course, but.
I suppose I’m just asking to...
[To what, see if he’s brooding? Sulking? Sad?
No, it’s too uncomfortable, that. He won’t wade so far into stupidity.]
Well. Just asking.
[And besides, he can’t exactly check on Gwen either, now that she’s clearly pulled back.]
( on the evening of satinalia, guilfoyle delivers to thranduil's gallows room: leviathan the nug, a jewelry box containing gwenaëlle's heartbeat ring, a bottle of bordeaux and an orlesian mask in a simple style, easily altered to be uuseful in any number of possible satinalia costumes. )
( it doesn't require a signature. )
- I am considering the possibility of publishing poems including some that were written during our relationship, in retrospect. I'm doing you the courtesy of allowing you to find out other than in the event of their publication.
Happy Satinalia.
( it doesn't require a signature. )
Edited 2022-11-01 05:17 (UTC)
( not immediately, but within hours of thranduil's (re?)emergence onto the crystal network of riftwatch, several fabric packages make their way to his current sleeping arrangements. neatly folded clothing, tailored to fit and of his style, clean enough but with the particular, mild scent of mustiness that comes with having been set in a cupboard somewhere, disused. not enough clothing to represent an entire wardrobe preserved; select pieces that someone (tall, gaunt, and not without sentiment even if often without expression of it), perhaps, had decided were too finely embroidered or particularly made to be surrendered to repurposing. a few items* of presumably mysterious significance, and a note pinned to a folded jacket: )
- Mssr Thranduil, ( his name written in his own script, standing out amongst workmanlike slashes of thedosian print, written in orlesian: )
These may prove of some use to you.
fELIX
*
whatever you'd like these to be!Mssr. Thranduil. I understand you've signed on to the Research division — may I ask your intended focus?
( after—
well, a few conversations. eventually, she decides: stop being a coward. she compromises with herself: a crystal message, and then he can decide how they have the conversation, and then she still agonises a while over how to start. audibly, in fact: )
Mss— your m— ( nope, stupid, didn't call him that the first time, don't even know if it's what people called him in mirkwood, don't make this weird, and so with more assurance and a breath first: ) Thranduil.
This is — ( the degree of formality he had set: ) Captain Baudin. I'd like to speak privately with you. This way, or — I have an office in the central tower.
( not exactly neutral territory. more neutral than the houseboat. )
Or somewhere you prefer.
well, a few conversations. eventually, she decides: stop being a coward. she compromises with herself: a crystal message, and then he can decide how they have the conversation, and then she still agonises a while over how to start. audibly, in fact: )
Mss— your m— ( nope, stupid, didn't call him that the first time, don't even know if it's what people called him in mirkwood, don't make this weird, and so with more assurance and a breath first: ) Thranduil.
This is — ( the degree of formality he had set: ) Captain Baudin. I'd like to speak privately with you. This way, or — I have an office in the central tower.
( not exactly neutral territory. more neutral than the houseboat. )
Or somewhere you prefer.
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