Iskaulit Mingle - Problems with Psychics

[notzubats]

Who: Anyone on the Iskaulit!
Broadcast: If you'd like?!
Action: Iskaulit!
When: Today, as Sora's augment glitch starts.

[It's your average day on the Iskaulit. Absolutely nothing seems out of place initially, but without any warning- you might find yourself or your friends experiencing some problems. What's up on that?

In other words, it's an Iskaulit mingle with a twist! Come on in everyone! You don't need to interact with Sora to have it effect you, so feel free to start your own threadstarter! Or talk to Sora, that's cool too. ]

Comments

[bythewaves]

So strong!

[ He murmurs softly in wonder ]

We will have to track him down, then. But first, I think... I have no skills in such things, not like my cousins. But I think the tricks I use for the Music will work for you, eh? Let us see if we can get you some focus.

[dancingmd]

[She nods, her brow furrowed.]

Please.

[bythewaves]

[ A wry smile and he instructs softly ]

You know how when you're in a noisy room, you focus on one person's voice? It is the same principal. Find one thing, one sound, and focus down on that. You can use me, if you like. Then slowly, you want to ignore the other sounds.

[dancingmd]

[She laughs, soft and wistful.]

You know, Daneel once told me almost exactly the same thing.

[bythewaves]

Did he? [ Maglor smiles back at her ] He was a good teacher, then. It is, perhaps, the simplest things that are at once the most effective, and the hardest thing to learn.

[dancingmd]

He said it's how he could always sense me in a crowd.

[And why she hardly ever had to knock on his door. He always Knew she was there.]

I think... I can do the same with you. The principle is easy enough at least. Why don't you tell me a story? In your mind? I'm afraid your music is a little too... powerful for me, at the moment.

[bythewaves]

That would make sense.

[ He smiles at her and nods ]

Of course!

[ and the starsong retreats, fades into a larger symphony and then sharpens down, becomes a voice, a song, a chant ]

A king there was in days of old:
ere Men yet walked upon the mould
his power was reared in caverns' shade,
his hand was over glen and glade.
Of leaves his crown, his mantle green,
his silver lances long and keen;
the starlight in his shield was caught,
ere moon was made or sun was wrought.

[dancingmd]

[Beverly sighs. That's easier. The starsong is beautiful but too distracting, too loud. This... this is hitting a good balance. The other minds are still there, yet she can focus on his story, try to picture the king in his all his reignment.

Go on, she urges him with a smile.]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor met Thingol but the once, but his opinion of him is not terribly good (although like all, he reverences Luthien his daughter, who dared and won where no one else did). Beverly will see him as Maglor remembers - tall, taller even than Maedhros, silvery-grey hair and stern features, proud and haughty, and unbending only when he looked upon his wife and daughter ]

In after-days, when to the shore
of Middle-earth from Valinor
the Elven-hosts in might returned,
and banners flew and beacons burned,
when kings of Eldamar went by
in strength of war, beneath the sky
then still his silver trumpets blew
when sun was young and moon was new.
Afar then in Beleriand,
in Doriath's beleaguered land,
King Thingol sat on guarded throne
in many-pillared halls of stone:
there beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
and metal wrought like fishes' mail,
buckler and corslet, axe and sword,
and gleaming spears were laid in hoard:
all these he had and counted small,
for dearer than all wealth in hall,
and fairer than are born to Men,
a daughter had he, Lúthien.

[dancingmd]

[Beverly's demeanor visibly shifts as her smile is replaced with a frown.Though she has never met Thingol, she certainly has her own opinions about him, fair or not. It's his damn pride that lead eventually to Finrod's death.

Not that story. That one I know.]

[bythewaves]

[ A soft, soundless chuckle, the ripple of water when a stone is thrown, a moment's flash of grief and the reminder, and the tune shifts, becomes younger, simpler, with hidden depths ]

Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

[dancingmd]

[Better. She focuses in on the images he's projecting. His mind is loud, but that's good - everything else is fading into a soft background hum, like the engine of a ship: ever present but not intrusive.]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor's mind is always noisy - there is a reason he is the worst of Finwe's get at skills of the mind, for how does one learn to bespeak and listen, when one is perpetually distracted?

But he harnesses that noise for Beverley now, linking the places he has been and the people he has seen to the song to give her a focus - tall mountains and green meadows, dragons and dwarves and elves and hobbits, war and peace, and the small kindnesses that make a life worth living ]

Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known.

[dancingmd]

[When he finishes the story, Beverly lets out a small sigh before taking his hand. Her headache has dulled and she doesn't feel quite so overwhelmed - at the moment anyway. How long she can keep this up, she doesn't know.]

Thank you.

[bythewaves]

[ He smiles at her, letting the focus of the melody fade into the background again, muffling the Song for her like drawing clouds across the sun ]

You are welcome. Tis the very least I could do! And I hope it holds for a while - or at least until this can be reversed!

[dancingmd]

[She frowns.]

If it can be reversed.

[bythewaves]

[ His frown mirrors hers ]

I hope so - If not... well, Finrod will be able to help you better than I, in that regard.

[dancingmd]

[Yes, Finrod - or Charles. In fact... Now that she thinks about it, this feels very much what like Charles has described before, especially the headache.]

I think for now... I need to get off the Iskaulit. Away from all the people here.

[bythewaves]

Probably a good idea - somewhere quieter would be a good start. Perhaps if we head to the Bishop?

[dancingmd]

Good idea. Let me just... Finish up here real quick.

[She kneels to pick up the pot she set down but then stands there with it looking a bit lost. What was she doing with this?]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor reaches up to offer to take it off her hands ]

Here, why do you not leave that for later? It is likely far too loud in here to concentrate.

[dancingmd]

[Her smile is quick and tight as she reluctantly gives up the flower pot to Maglor. He's right, of course, but it annoys her that she can't perform her regular duties and tasks. The garden will survive without her immediate attention but for how long will this go on?]

Thank you. Do you... Can you fly us? I don't want to chance piloting myself at the moment.

[bythewaves]

[ He sets it down carefully, brushing a hand across the pot in gentle apology and then nods, offering her his arm ]

Of course. Do you need me to keep singing?

[dancingmd]

[She takes his arm gratefully and lets her lead him back to the shuttles.]

No. I think... I can make it, for a little while. [She pats his arm, trying to reassure him. His concern is palpable.] Thank you though, you've already helped tremendously.

[bythewaves]

[ Very, very, palpable ]

Alright - but if you need me, just call. [ He promises ] But here, let us to the shuttles. Shall we try the Bishop first, or did you wish to seek your own rooms?