CALMCACIL, Tari

[TARI CALMCACIL]

CAN WE PRETEND
that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars i could
really use a wish right now wish right now wish right now

TARI CALMCACIL*

My name? I've carried it with me for thousands of years. I will say it slowly, so that you might understand it. Tàri Calmcacil. Think of it as "Tah-Ree and Calm-sah-sill", if that helps you. I am exactly three thousand, four hundred and fifty-six years old. I suppose for human standards that would make me about... twenty four? A young woman indeed. There are hundreds of other elves who are older than me, scattered through out Middle Earth and into the Undying Lands. But then, you did not come to me for geography now did you? Let me see, where to begin....

Once upon a time in the deep forests of Mirkwood lived a couple. A strange, odd couple, it was said. The captain of the guard had taken a wife, a strange wife, who had originally come from the golden forests of Lothlorien. She was fair haired and skinned with pale eyes, and was named Enelya. Their meeting was one of accident, or perhaps a tangled web of fate. Elessar, the Captain, had been sent along with a small band to escort a few nobles to the borders of the forest, so that they may meet with their kin from Lothlorien. Upon breaking through and into the sun, the captain saw the group of visiting elves, and laid eyes on Enelya. From there it was rumored to be love at first sight, and the two were nigh on inseperable.

Soon enough after some years of wedded bliss I came to be. My father's dark hair passed onto me, while my mother's skills and temperment moved through her blood and into my own.

Both my mother and myself are quiet natured. I enjoy the act of talking, of discussion of literature, potions, the weather and the like, or world events circling around me. But I talk softly unless angered. I'm afraid my temper is one that is not so easily tempered. When I am slighted I can become rather unforgiving. I will forgive it, but I will not forget it, and the trust you may have earned will have to start over. When you live forever, you learn the mistakes to avoid so that you don't die stupidly. I am not a rash person though. I take my time, perhaps too much time, when it comes to deciding on things. When you've all the time in the world, why rush? I try to be a gentle person, but anger can grip the best of us.

I am also an affectionate person. Actions sometimes speak louder than words, and I would rather help with my presence than with nonsense spouted like a hummingbird's drone. I am proud of my accomplishments though sometimes I feel envy for the humans. They accomplish so little in their blink lifespans, when it takes years, sometimes centuries, to perfect a skill. I envy them their view on life, how to live for the moment. But you didn't hear any of that from me. I like to wear my emotions on my sleeve and have finally mastered the cool, indifferent mask my father has used countless times, whether it's a hunt or a battle. Perhaps if you got to know me better, you could better judge my moods.

When it comes to looks I would like to say that I am... unique. At the very least in the face. While most elven women have the soft, rounded and beautiful faces, my face is more angular. My lips are wider, my teeth more pronounced when I talk, and my nose is larger than a pixie nub that some women were graced with. My eyebrows are even angular, set above a pair of big brown eyes. Yes, brown. Not the fair blue or green or gray, but brown. They dim and lighten to my mood, and turn a caramelly color at my best. I do enjoy my eyes for that. My hair is dark and wavy, reaching at about my waist. It's a darker brown like my father's was, but holds the curls that my mother had. I like to wear pastel colors with long sleeves, though I alter most of my dresses so I can pin the sleeves back when I am working or doing something constructive.

My body is a little curvy, though I am no busty tavern wench (thank the Heavens!). I am rather tall at five foot nine, and can see almost eye to eye with most human men, and have to look up a little at the elven men. They're also easier to reach, if you know what I mean. My arms and legs are long and my torso is about average. Across my middle I have a long scar from an accident when I was a child when I broke my mother's mirror and fell onto it and it sliced me open. I'm rather self conscious about the scar but it serves me as a reminder not to be too foolish.

I enjoy riding horses and traveling, and take great pleasure in traveling to see my mother's kin in Lothlorien when I am able, though as of late... the lands are no longer safe. Worgs have roamed past the borders of the wilderness, and orcs and goblins, things best kept in the shafts of darkness, have been spotted in the shifting shadows of the night or worse; the daylight. Where they are gathering I am unsure, but it has put an unease in all of the forest and of the elven city in the depths of it. I do not envy the humans at war, but pray that they will be smarter about what decisions they make as something, I'm not sure what, looms on the horizon. Some of my kin have sailed for the undying lands, tired of this world where man has overcome most other races in population alone. I am not quite ready to leave myself. I am unwedded and unattached, but something.... greater seems to be lurking out there. And I will not spend eternity wondering what it was, when I could know for myself.

I COULD USE A

dream or a genie or a wish to go back to a place much simpler
than this cause after all the partyin' the smashin' and crashin'

hey there. so my name is Katie. i also play none yet. i happen to be femme and i've blown out twenty candles. if you want to contact me, no sweat. just PM me! but check me out in action. I would like my character to be Elf and he/she hails from Mirkwood. My final last words are edited by admin!

thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you

{Excerpt from historical Rome RP I was in} Romano watched Caius's facial expression twitch when he said the offer was only good for one week, and caught the look. A smirk crossed his face and he chuckled lightly in the back of his throat. Perhaps he should have been clearer. His daughter had barely talked to men her age, much less disrobed and slept with any of them. No, she was not with child. He just wanted to get rid of her and out of his house as soon as possible. The girl had no fault, only the fact that she looked too much like her mother to the point where Romano started to grieve for her all over again. He'd prayed to the gods that Rosa would have something that looked like him, something that would offset the almost mirror image, but his prayers were not answered. The man was at the end of his rope! Already he had found himself staring at her, almost calling her Philomena instead of Rosa. He didn't lust after his child but he couldn't take the gut gnawing memories that followed the girl.

The what ifs had swirled around her head for years, and he'd taken on the most of the brunt. She'd barely been a child.... Romano shook his head as he focused on Caius. Now was not the time to think of the past. He had a future to prepare for. "My daughter is a sheltered girl, a rose that's never been touched by the outside. Your worries are not needed here." Truly, he thought, Quintus must have some trust in him shouldn't he? The thought amused him so that he didn't take offense. After all, he'd been the one to word it wrong.

Rosa, thankfully, was oblivious to all of this. Nerves danced under her skin as she smile stayed in place, the beautiful man in front of her merely staring, mouth agape. A flush crossed her face though she wasn't sure why as she shifted from one foot to another, still holding the heavy gold pitcher of sweet wine. The staring went from flattering to awkward and her smile faultered ever so slightly as she glanced at her Pater with a "is something wrong with him?" look. Romano merely smiled and shook his head, pleased beyond measure at Caius's reaction. Hook, line, and sinker. Quintus moving to stand had Rosa shifting to face him, automatically turning to face her guest. The smile bloomed warmer as he introduced himself and for a moment she looked thoughtful as she tried to place his face. "Ah! Yes, I do remember you!" She laughed a little to play off the pause where she couldn't actually remember his face. "It was one of the summer festivals in May, I remember. It has been far too long, why have you been a stranger?"

Her tone was playful as she shifted the heavy pitcher, unable to set it down because of manners; She had not been answered just yet, and the man continued to stare!! Her heart jumped a little and the flush tinted a bit more as Romano cleared his throat and motioned to his glass. Rosa obediently bent and poured for her father as the guest... was staring at her like she'd grown horns and fangs. Was something on her face? She wanted to check in case the flour jar Catarina had dropped had somehow gotten all over her, and she'd just missed the fact. When Quintus introduced Caius, she shot a smile at him again. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Finally he said yes to the drink and her smile brightened, quite heavy to be rid of the heavy pitcher. She poured the two men drinks of wine and was just pouring Caius's when he spoke. His voice nearly made her spill the wine as something in her stomach jumped and her nerves skitter pleasantly under her skin. She had been unaware a voice could sound so.. so... perfect.

Rosa righted the pitcher quickly and moved to set it on a side table, taking a moment to collect herself as Romano started talking with Quintus about merchant business and folded the contract in half so Rosa would not see. Her heart was pounding and the reaction confused her. It was attraction, and she'd never experienced it or even knew what to call it. With a (what she would call) sly movement she glanced over her shoulder at him, openly curious as she looked him over. She bit her bottom lip in thought for a brief moment with her teeth before looking away in case he caught her staring.

Catarina watched from the kitchen doorway, a hand over her mouth to muffle the squeal of delight at her baby sister's reaction. Ohhhh let the games begin!! Romano's face read clear amusement and broke from the traditional stand off as he coughed to cover a laugh. "Rosa, would it be possible to feed our guests lunch while they are here? I feel terrible for offering them small morsels so close to midday meal." Rosa's staring stopped and she moved back from the side table to stand next to her father's chair, gently resting a hand on the back of it.

"But of course Pater, I would be delighted to have them dine with us!" She hid her nerves well as she snuck glances at Caius, intrigue written across her face. She'd never seen someone with hair as light as his before. She wondered if he was born that way or if somehow the sun had bleached it from being outside so much. Him sitting there watching her brought on strange reactions to her insides and she wasn't quite sure if she liked them or not, but the adventurer in her wanted to know more. Right, back to the subject at hand, lunch. "Is there anything in particular that you want?" Such a loaded question coming from an innocent face.

this application was made by two birds. of caution. steal and her hoard of zombies will come and eat your brains.