(Voice)

Sep. 13th, 2017 09:50 pm
twilightminstrel: (Flute player)
[personal profile] twilightminstrel
Who: Daeron
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Huntress
When: Evening 9/13

[The soft voice of one of the Huntress' resident elves pipes up one evening, mingling with the sound of a harp. Unlike his usual songs, as those who know him would realize, Daeron sings in the Common Tongue, and there's a clear note of wistful memory and almost joy.]

Her limbs were white,
Her hair like night,
Her BZZZZZ!

[A rather horrid noise, now painfully familiar around the Huntress, interrupts and ends his song, and the feed- he might be a bit busy shutting the vuvuzela up to answer immediately!]

Video

Aug. 8th, 2017 06:11 pm
twilightminstrel: (Tears of sorrow)
[personal profile] twilightminstrel
Who: Daeron
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: The Heron
When: Evening 8/8

Would anyone be interested in learning to play an instrument? Or, perhaps, to sing, if not increase your existing skill. I am most familiar with harps and flutes. An exchange of learning would be just as welcome.

[Anything at all to help keep busy! He's in desperate need of distraction. Something to focus on besides certain Feanorians and their strange concern and care over his well-being.

At least the elf seems somewhat calm at the moment, which isn't exactly the norm since his arrival. Though that might have something to do with the lap harp whose strings he's softly plucking an old tune away on.]

Video

Jul. 13th, 2017 07:08 pm
twilightminstrel: (Tears of sorrow)
[personal profile] twilightminstrel
Who: Daeron
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: The Heron if people decide to barge into his room XD
When: A day after they all return from the Marsiva

[A shuddering breath is the first indication anything is wrong as pale hands pull out a picture of a rather lovely elven maiden. Daeron's hands shake and he places it carefully beside his bed, on the small table there.

There are no words, and the feed eventually times out, but not before viewers are treated to the lovely sight of a ukulele and harmonica just waiting to be played along with the rest of the by-now expected gifts. Not even the leaf-wrapped travel-bread (lembas) are touched.]

(Open)

Jun. 14th, 2017 08:35 pm
castintoflames: (✧ I can see it coming from)
[personal profile] castintoflames
Who: Maedhros & Open
Broadcast: Marsiva
Action: On the Marsiva.
When: Evening

(A voice, beginning softly and then rising in volume, can be heard aboard the Marsiva this eve. Technology brings it to others - the ship is large - not that the singer entirely notices. A bright tumble of fiery hair obscures the picture momentarily before a certain tall Elf steps back. Yet the singing continues and Maedhros's eyes are distant, lost in memory.

The notes reach pitches that are almost keening, but the melody always softens, always returns to a pleasant level. Until the end, that is. The keening returns, then, and the Elf shows his prowess with song - something he will deny until death and beyond - by singing notes that are quick and passionate like flames. His eyes reflect despair and grief before assuming a look of grim determination.

But every song must end and his cannot carry on. He absently brushes back his hair - which is loose from all braids - and finishes securing his prosthetic arm in place.)
thespaceopera: (error)
[personal profile] thespaceopera
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  • (last updated: 6/18/17)
    bythewaves: (Default)
    [personal profile] bythewaves
    Who: Maglor and YOU
    Broadcast: Fleetwide
    Action: Iskaulit - Garden
    When: NOW/anytime this month tbh

    Video

    [ Maglor is sitting in one of the rooms just off the garden in Iskaulit - a dark room, where a small little sapling is glowing. Yes. It's not your imagination. The little tree is glowing. (So is Maglor, but the fleet should be used to their glowy elves by now). ]

    Milady Makie is asleep, so I thought I should make this announcement on her behalf - as per the wishes of Doctor Beverly Crusher, we thought it would be good to have a memorial in the gardens for those who leave us. The tree is still very young, but you are welcome to come and leave candles or simply to sit and remember. The gardens remain open to all, as well, despite the good Doctor leaving.

    Please feel free to come and if you wish to help, anything would be welcome.

    [ He reaches to turn off the feed and then pauses ]

    Ah, and if anyone wishes any forgework done, the forge should be finished, soon. Please contact me, Sokka, or my brother Maedhros or cousin Fingon, if you wish anything.

    Action

    [ Maglor can be found anywhere in the garden, tending to basic chores, or in the room with the little sapling, singing softly to it of growing strong and bright. ]

    Video

    Jun. 2nd, 2017 06:09 pm
    twilightminstrel: (Tears of sorrow)
    [personal profile] twilightminstrel
    Who: Daeron
    Broadcast: Fleetwide
    Action: Heron
    When: Now!

    [One of the newest passengers of the fleet jerks out of the bed he'd woken on and slams back against the cold steel. On second glance, ignoring the quiet gasps for breath, one can see delicately pointed ears peeking through silver hair, along with wide grey eyes before the elf- yes, another one- holds his breath, then slowly exhales a shaky breath as he forces some meager semblance of calm. He frowns, gaze falling to the red light blinking at him, and places a hand over the screen, effectively ending the transmission.

    Not that it lasts long, as just as Daeron regains some sense of self and begins to absorb some of the new knowledge running through his head, he's transferred to another ship! He shakes his head slightly, hands clenching as he finds himself staring at a room- the bridge- with another screen watching him. Judging him. Pain and grief touch his gaze before flowing away like water.

    He steels his nerve after casting a glance over his shoulder towards the stars, and stares back at the screen with feigned calm, brittle enough that even a breath could shatter it.]


    A minstrel among the stars has a certain ring to it. Is it a reward or a punishment, to be separated from worlds of green and living water and air?

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