(no subject)

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim comes down to the bar with his daughter. The little one is wrapped in a colorful blanket that looks like it might illustrate some kind of story if unwrapped. He takes the infant to the bar and sits there feeding her. However, it appears Gorlim only has her downstairs to show her off for a little while: soon after the baby finishes her bottle, Eilinel shows up to reclaim her. Gorlim makes several attempts to convince the woman to let him keep her longer, but she seems insistant that Kelly is too young to be exposed to so much noise and crowding for long periods of time. Eventually Gorlim gives in under her incessant good-natured teasing. Like all true lovers, she knows all the right buttons to push -- the most potent of which would appear to onlookers to be a threatening... handful of dried flowers from her apron pocket. Seeing those, Gorlim makes a face and passes the child into his wife's arms.

Eilinel replaces her strange weapon serenely. She leans over to place a kiss on her husband's forehead, then turns to return to their room. Gorlim watches them go with a distracted smile on his face. Now that he isn't actively chatting at an infant, he appears a touch frayed around the edges. He's been busy lately, from singlehandedly altering the psychological makeup of a Vala to preaching ideals of loyalty and brotherhood to a terrorist, while at the same time caring meticulously for the baby, the idea of sleep is far from his mind, and food is even farther. It's likely the drink he had with Ramon the other day is the closest thing he's had to a meal in... a considerable amount of time. And from the looks of it, he's not thinking much about food now, either. So! Come talk to the fidgety Tolkien-boy and maybe see if you can get him to eat something before his blood sugar level realizes it's dropped almost low enough to send him into minor shock.

Comments

[namo]

And the Vala he has singlehandedly altered approaches warily. Námo has been absent from the bar for about three days, but it seems so much longer to him.

Again, he has chosen to remain in the form he first entered the bar in, but now his eyes are haunted. The unreflected, bottomless gaze a bit darker, a little more lost.

It looks as if the Vala has been through Hell and come out to talk about it.

"Gorlim," he greets with a voice that feels unused for centuries.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim stares at him.

"Namo? What the hell happened to you?"

[namo]

Námo slowly seats himself beside Gorlim and orders tea from the bar. Sans milk this time. He slowly sips the warm liquid, praying to his Father that his newly awakened stomach would stop being so vocal.

"Yes, Gorlim, that would sum up what I have been enduring. Hell happened to me."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

This is followed by more staring.

"What? Hell? Did Morgoth do something to you?" His eyes narrow dangerously. "I'll turn that bastard inside-out, you see if I don't..."

[namo]

"Wrong brother," he says tiredly. "Though the sentiment is much appreciated. It is comforting to know you would defend me to one such as him."

He sips his tea again, stalling before thinking on his punishment.

"I warned you there would be an accounting of my actions. And I paid the price in full."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

He watches Namo, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Shit. What did they do to you?"

[namo]

Námo sighs.

"To be honest, they didn't do anything to me." His eyes shift to Gorlim. "It was you."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

He freezes. Like ice.

"...I thought I fixed you?"

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

Antigone is not the person to speak to about eating, if her thin, thin arms and legs are any indication. She's sitting at the bar, one leg dangling off her stool, and watching Gorlim. Possibly, she is watching him fidget.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Watching Gorlim fidget can, admittedly, be an entertaining experience when he's being allowed to do it without anything else to distract him. He has lots of fascinating ways to expend the supply of energy he has which exists regardless of how tired he is and, indeed, would continue to be a part of him even after death.

But eventually he does realize he's being watched and STARES back at the woman.

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

Antigone does not seem at all surprised or embarrassed to be caught looking.

"Yes?"

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"...Can I help you?" he asks with polite bafflement.

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

"You don't look well."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

He gives a short, bitter laugh. It sounds for a moment like something you might hear a scarecrow do. In a particularly terrifying nightmare.

"No, I suppose I don't," he agrees. "Call it an occupational hazard. I cannot say the same of you, my lady. You seem fair as the Elven handmaidens of the South."

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

If the laugh startles her, it doesn't show in her expression. What does show in her expression is a certain amount of eye-rolling at being compared to "Elven handmaidens"-- whatever they are, she's too dark to be called fair.

"Antigone," she corrects.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"And with an Elvish name, too!" he simpers. Oh, yes, he took note of her reaction to the comparison, and is now doing it to tease. "I am Gorlim, son of Angrim, of the House of Beor." He stands and makes a sweeping bow to her.

[empath-wiggin.livejournal.com]

From somewhere, who knows where, a paper airplaine lands on Gorlim's table. The tosser is not at all obvious. (http://www.livejournal.com/community/milliways_bar/8540870.html?thread=357111238#t357111238)

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim picks up the airplane, eyes it with confusion, looks around, and tosses it (http://www.livejournal.com/community/milliways_bar/8540937.html?thread=357129481#t357129481) over his shoulder.

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

Hel is not a Vala, although her mun regularly misspells valor as vala. She also isn't good at eating.

But she's even taller than Namo, and her right half is quite pretty, and she limps as she wanders past with her left side hidden and her arms full of brightly colored leaves.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

If her height hadn't caught his eye, the leaves would have. And they do.

"What are you doing?" he asks. No, it doesn't occur to him that it's not his business, or that delving into other people's business when those people look like they are probably immensely powerful might not be a good idea.

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

"I like color."

She says, dipping her head and holding them close,

"I miss it."

Her voice is quiet and softly slurred.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

He tilts his head slightly at her. "Well that's a funny sort of thing to miss. Where are you from, that is so lacking of it?"

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

"Niflheim."

Betcha that means nothing to him.

"Its all grey there."

A plaintive teenage wail,

"Except for the hangings, and who wants to look at Burning Anguish all the time?"

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"Ah. Yes, I can see how that could get monotonous." The same reason he doesn't like to sleep: his dreams are basically all grey with highlights of burning and anguish.

It also might be why some people get tired of being around him when he's in one of his Moods.

"Well this place is colorful enough! 'Tis a pity your world is so bleak. Don't you miss it, then?"

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

She just looks at him, from the corner of her visible eye,

"Miss Niflheim?"

People say "are you mad?" in that tone.