kak: (kak and awk nothing suspicious)
[personal profile] kak
It turns out to become a guard you need to fill out an application. Me and Awk, though blessed with a multitude of skills, do not know this whole 'writing' business so we went to on of the handy writer-humans.

Kak: *attacks one of the few windows at the House of History with Awk until they open it and they fly in to find Yaban while scribes yell*

Yaban: augh!

Awk: YOU! Your lords require your hands
In which Yaban is helpful )
yaban: (dorky)
[personal profile] yaban
Working on a retelling of a folktale and what does my eye spy?

Grima: *hits on Idis*

Idis: *glances at Grima sort of like 'really'?*

Grima: *undaunted*

Idis: *decides to ignore*

Yaban: *calls her over to look over something*

Idis: *eagerly heads over there, then when she gets there* Thank you *under her breath*
It's probably for the best Grima doesn't have elven hearing )
idril: (why me?)
[personal profile] idril

Grima: *comes into the tower and heads to the lift, on an errand to deliver some architect notes that Turgon requested from the House of History. Noticed that one of them is a map of the sewers that he copied for a price several chats ago and... worried, with the rumours he's heard about the murderers*

Idril: *wanted to go pester her dad for a while (and not Gel because he's been dismissive and no one dismisses her!) and heads for the lift as well. She presses the button for it to go up*

Grima: *stands behind her so he can admire her without being noticed*

Lift: *liiiifts*

Lift: *makes a weird grinding noise and stops between floors and way above where it would be safe to climb out*

Oh Eru, I'm going to DIE in a contraption with a HUMAN! (Also, she traumatizes Grima :D) )

I'M NOT DEAD! And don't you say a word about me hugging Gel. I was distraught and familiar faces bring comfort. >.>
ladyidis: (street)
[personal profile] ladyidis
Work got...interesting the other day as something I never thought was possible ended up happening. Someone from where I'm from came into the House of History on my shift. ...Well, sort of someone from there anyway.

In which Idis meets her dad, kind of, and Grima is...Grima )

I don't know how to tell him that where I'm from, which has to be far later on, that we're related. That my father is Theoden King. It's not something I've tried to hide, and I don't intend to hide it but finding a way to break that news, and bringing up my mother is...I'm not sure. I don't know that there IS an easy way to bring it up. Why are there no songs or tales or accounts for THIS sort of thing again?
ladyidis: (green hat)
[personal profile] ladyidis
Work has been going interestingly enough, but some days are far better than others. Grima with his seniority and his friends on the inside is enough to get to anyone of course. Even someone rational.

in which Grima is an ass and Idis and Yaban discuss this fact. And scream. )

If nothing else, at least my co-worker is not alone and knows that now. Everything else...I've no idea what else is coming.
[personal profile] caranthir
I was sitting calmly in Celegorm's garden...

Grima: *overheard at work the strange conversation between 'Loras' and Celegorm, and decided to follow him today*

Caranthir: *is sitting outside Celegorm's house, thinking of the meeting with Turgon. He still fels a bit hurt because FĂ«anor didn't tell him about the Silmaril...*

Grima: why, Loras, this isn't your home, is it? *looks up at the well-appointed house that Turgon gave Celegorm to shut him up* That's a bit much for a scribe.

Caranthir: *starts a bit, then frowns* No, this is not my house. I am just visiting a friend. *comes out of Celegorm's garden* Now you follow the scribes around?

and gets me in trouble... )
yaban: (happy talking)
[personal profile] yaban

Yaban: *lingering on his lunchbreak outside the House of History, mostly to avoid going in but hoping to catch sight of Luthien again*

Luthien: *approaches the House with a bouquet of flowers in her hands*
She gave me flowers! Well, she gave the House of History flowers. And we shared lunch. And I tried to talk her into disguising herself and escaping the city with me in tow so we could see if there's two of her )

She really is the most beautiful person I've ever met. So I've been distributing the flowers as an excuse not to get to work, putting them in empty inkwells, cups, and in our few windows to dry out.

And of course, a lovely rose for Grima to prove that I am willing to work with a Rohirrim. Like a good obedient scribe. *bow*
yaban: (worried)
[personal profile] yaban
Work's killing me. I'm the only one of my people here and the idea of being a final authority on our history and having nothing to refer to and simply writing it out without taking anything in every day is like slow poison. On top of that, my only contemporary is some hopped up scribe with no training for this who took the job because it's easy. The bastard knows how to suck up to our superiors so I probably won't get away with getting into another headlock/hairpulling incident.

Yaban: *finally done with his fight-slash-discussion-slash-note-comparison with Grima on a particular historical point concerning their two countries relations and returning to his desk*
And then someone beautiful walked in )

Well. You know the worst time to want to tell someone they're beautiful and ask them out? When they find out their whole family was murdered. You know who's smooth enough to not even try it? Me.

I wonder if that happened to my family. Not that I'll ever know, I'm not the kind of person who'd ever appear in a history.

Poor Luthien. I want to make her pain go away.


gondolindrim: (Default)
Gondolindrim, a game with a time travel problem

September 2014

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