Post by ERAN LINWELIN on Sept 8, 2011 9:20:16 GMT -5
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
that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars i could
really use a wish right now wish right now wish right now
ERAN LINWELIN*
My story? Well, what is it you wish to know? I fear that it is not as excited as the tale of most people as old as I am. I was born to a well bred, well off family of elves in Imladris in the winter of 2771. As a member of a lineage who had always been known for their skills with weaponry, I was all but born with a sword in her hand. I was trained from a young age in swordsmanship, archery, swordsmanship, and hand to hand combat, where I proved to be extremely intelligent and picked up quickly on all the skills offered to me. I loved weaponry, and while most girls my age were in pretty dresses and playing in the flowers, I was in pants practicing my archery.
As the only child of Ecathe and Abberline Linwelin, who were in a position equivalent to monarchy among the humans, I was expected not to be a warrior, but to marry young and bear heirs to my title. However, most of the young beaus were intimidated by my pensive nature and brazen tongue. I never received any proposals for a union, which did not bother me at all. I have a warrior's heart, and was trained a warrior, and I know duty falls before personal satisfaction. While my parents set about trying to bring me to the more feminine side of things, I rebelled and continued my training with more "manly pursuits" such as weaponry, horsemanship, ect.
As soon as I was old enough to convince my parents I could make my own decisions, I decided to see the world outside of the home I knew, and began my travelsMiddle Earth. At first, I stayed only within the elven countries and visited with my kin there, as I knew very little of humans, and that fear of the unknown stayed with me. But as time went on, I read up on the other races and I became more comfortable with traveling outside of the lands I knew and began to visit the countries of man and of hobbit as well.
I loved the culture it provided to me, as well as the education I received from it. It was more than I could ask for or wish for, and far more than I would have recieved had I stayed in Imladris. My travels took me everywhere: Rohan, Gondor, Harad, the Shire, as far as my horse could take me and sometimes even further. But I have always found the Shire and the lands of the Hobbits among my favorite places. While most underestimate the hobbits, I find them fascinating. However, in contrast, I do tend to avoid them for the simple fact that, among the Halflings, I am rather tall, which I am not used to as among my own people, I am petite more on the side of short. It takes me completely out of my element.
I traveled abroad for several years until letter finally reached me, while on a tour in Mirkwood, that my mother was ill, and was intending to leave for the Undying Lands, having tired of Middle Earth as it was.. I immediately returned to Imladris to be by my mother's side in the end. I watched her wither away for nearly a year until she passed on, leaving both father and daughter behind.
My father threw himself into his work, and I left once more to continue my traveling. I traveled for several more years until I returned home to see my father off to follow my mother into the undying lands. I was left alone in Middle Earth, finding myself far too young and not world wise enough to leave the lands I had grown up in behind.
I tried to resume my travels but, try as I might, I could not shake a deep seated guilt, a feeling that my parents had left me because I was not close to them enough. Ever since, I have found it hard to leave Imladris, and, when I do, it is for very short periods. So here I am stuck, for now, I fear.
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'
than this cause after all the partyin' the smashin' and crashin'
hey there. so my name is nicole. i also play none. i happen to be female and i've blown out nineteen candles. if you want to contact me, no sweat. just pm, email, aim, or msn me! but check me out in action. I would like my character to be elven and she hails from imladris. My final last words are sing me a story!
thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you
Eran had always been a reader. Especially now that she was left with no family in Middle Earth, she had found herself absorbed in the libraries that Elrond's palace had to offer. The books varied in subject, from fiction to romance to history, and she found the balconies on the edges of the palace gave a very serene environment to read in. She glided down the hallways from the library to the balconies, perfectly at ease in her surroundings.
She had grown up there, lived there, and would most likely have this place be her last sight of Middle Earth. Every curve of the palace was familiar to her, every stone have a place somewhere in the memories of her childhood. But that had been so long ago, in a time she nearly forgot existed. When you lived as long as her kind did, time eventually became only relative.
She found a place on one of the balconies, overlooking the waterfalls and rivers that surrounded the white stone, the only sounds those of birds chirping and the water crashing against rocks and the banks. She took up a position on one of the benches, pulling her legs up underneath the skirts of her deep green dress and opened the book on her lap. She began to read, her hands caressing the old, worn pages carefully.
As she read, half of her conscience concentrated on the book, the other half concentrated on her surroundings. The warrior in her never missed anything, always perceptive and ready to spring into action. So when a set of footsteps on the stone floors came into her hearing range, she was not surprised. She did not look up as the figure came closer, even as they were close enough that she could see the figure out of the corner of her eye. "Can I help you?" She asked softly, still not looking up from her book.
She had grown up there, lived there, and would most likely have this place be her last sight of Middle Earth. Every curve of the palace was familiar to her, every stone have a place somewhere in the memories of her childhood. But that had been so long ago, in a time she nearly forgot existed. When you lived as long as her kind did, time eventually became only relative.
She found a place on one of the balconies, overlooking the waterfalls and rivers that surrounded the white stone, the only sounds those of birds chirping and the water crashing against rocks and the banks. She took up a position on one of the benches, pulling her legs up underneath the skirts of her deep green dress and opened the book on her lap. She began to read, her hands caressing the old, worn pages carefully.
As she read, half of her conscience concentrated on the book, the other half concentrated on her surroundings. The warrior in her never missed anything, always perceptive and ready to spring into action. So when a set of footsteps on the stone floors came into her hearing range, she was not surprised. She did not look up as the figure came closer, even as they were close enough that she could see the figure out of the corner of her eye. "Can I help you?" She asked softly, still not looking up from her book.
this application was made by two birds. of caution. steal and her hoard of zombies will come and eat your brains.
