Fingon, Findekáno, the Valiant (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
valiantfire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-11-18 02:49 pm
valiantfire) wrote in driftfleet2016-11-18 02:49 pm
(no subject)
Who: Fingon, OPEN aside from certain prompts.
Broadcast: Fleetwide for one prompt, N/A for the rest.
Action: Huntress and Iskaliut.
When: Throughout this week.
Open: Huntress' Kitchen, accidental broadcast available.
For a couple weeks Fingon had a strange feeling that something was different, but as he hadn't figured out what it was, he'd done his best to ignore it and go about his business, cooking, sewing, visiting with family and new friends. It started with a wish that he had fresh water to work with in his cooking, and suddenly he stared down at his hands, filling with cold water. He jumped back with a gasp and numbly watched the water splash to the floor as he kept backing away, memories of harsh ice threatening to drag him down.
{ooc: Anyone who comes to the kitchen for this will find Fingon huddled in a corner, shivering. :3}
Open: Fingon's room.
Even when Fingon wasn't out and about, he tended to keep the door of his room open for visitors to just peek their head in and say hello. The only times he would close it were when he planned to sing or play the stringed instrument his cousin Maglor had helped him get, to avoid disturbing anyone trying to rest.
Closed: Finwë.
Fingon's grandfather would always be a source of comfort, warmth, and love, and he was extremely grateful to have him near. He often came by just to visit, generally bringing some new project with him to work and show for approval and any suggestions for adjustments. He knocked on his grandfather's door, rocking back and forth on his heels as he hummed a soft little tune. "Grandfather? It's Findekáno, may I enter?"
He liked just being another grandson. Just being himself.
Open: Iskaliut: Various locations.
When he wasn't on his assigned ship, Fingon liked exploring the Iskaliut. The garden was a breath of fresher air, easier to rest in than the planet that threatened to keep all Elves there. He also loved sampling the various food stuffs on offer, nibbling on the sweets in particular and trading recipes with anyone willing.
But also the Elf liked finding a seat by a viewport and just looking out at the stars, content to enjoy the quiet before he'd return to his current home.
Broadcast: Fleetwide for one prompt, N/A for the rest.
Action: Huntress and Iskaliut.
When: Throughout this week.
Open: Huntress' Kitchen, accidental broadcast available.
For a couple weeks Fingon had a strange feeling that something was different, but as he hadn't figured out what it was, he'd done his best to ignore it and go about his business, cooking, sewing, visiting with family and new friends. It started with a wish that he had fresh water to work with in his cooking, and suddenly he stared down at his hands, filling with cold water. He jumped back with a gasp and numbly watched the water splash to the floor as he kept backing away, memories of harsh ice threatening to drag him down.
{ooc: Anyone who comes to the kitchen for this will find Fingon huddled in a corner, shivering. :3}
Open: Fingon's room.
Even when Fingon wasn't out and about, he tended to keep the door of his room open for visitors to just peek their head in and say hello. The only times he would close it were when he planned to sing or play the stringed instrument his cousin Maglor had helped him get, to avoid disturbing anyone trying to rest.
Closed: Finwë.
Fingon's grandfather would always be a source of comfort, warmth, and love, and he was extremely grateful to have him near. He often came by just to visit, generally bringing some new project with him to work and show for approval and any suggestions for adjustments. He knocked on his grandfather's door, rocking back and forth on his heels as he hummed a soft little tune. "Grandfather? It's Findekáno, may I enter?"
He liked just being another grandson. Just being himself.
Open: Iskaliut: Various locations.
When he wasn't on his assigned ship, Fingon liked exploring the Iskaliut. The garden was a breath of fresher air, easier to rest in than the planet that threatened to keep all Elves there. He also loved sampling the various food stuffs on offer, nibbling on the sweets in particular and trading recipes with anyone willing.
But also the Elf liked finding a seat by a viewport and just looking out at the stars, content to enjoy the quiet before he'd return to his current home.
Iskaulit
The Reapers, however, did not have windows. It's that one touch that eases his slight tension. He spots Fingon silhouetted against one such sea of black and approaches, joining the elf in gazing out at it all.
"It's really something, isn't it? The view. I never quite get tired of looking at it," he said, quietly solemn.