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castintoflamesWho: Maedhros
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: On the planet - more particularly, in the water.
When: Early morning.
(He is the first son of Fëanor and Nerdanel and he abides by no one's commands but his own. The water calls to him in the same way that the fire repels him. He remembers the agonizing burn as the Silmaril seared through his hand; he remembers how the flames and lava licked at his body, consuming him as if he were a rare treat that should not be allowed to escape. The water helps cool those memories and he makes a pretty sight, floating near one of the Water Temples, his copper locks turning dark red as they flow about him.)
I feel as if I am in the realm of Lord Ulmo; this planet would suit him nicely!
(The image shifts as he climbs out of the water and rests on the steps of a temple. He is not wearing his customary robes, but only a tunic and pants - both of which cling to him, leaving little to the imagination.)
If you have not taken the plunge, so to speak, fleet, I suggest you do so. The water is refreshing.
(For one who is plagued by images of fire and death, it must be.)
And the race that resides here is beautiful to behold. They are fond of their ornamentations and I think they wear them well.
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: On the planet - more particularly, in the water.
When: Early morning.
(He is the first son of Fëanor and Nerdanel and he abides by no one's commands but his own. The water calls to him in the same way that the fire repels him. He remembers the agonizing burn as the Silmaril seared through his hand; he remembers how the flames and lava licked at his body, consuming him as if he were a rare treat that should not be allowed to escape. The water helps cool those memories and he makes a pretty sight, floating near one of the Water Temples, his copper locks turning dark red as they flow about him.)
I feel as if I am in the realm of Lord Ulmo; this planet would suit him nicely!
(The image shifts as he climbs out of the water and rests on the steps of a temple. He is not wearing his customary robes, but only a tunic and pants - both of which cling to him, leaving little to the imagination.)
If you have not taken the plunge, so to speak, fleet, I suggest you do so. The water is refreshing.
(For one who is plagued by images of fire and death, it must be.)
And the race that resides here is beautiful to behold. They are fond of their ornamentations and I think they wear them well.
