(Open)

[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.)

Comments

[castintoflames]

If that's how you feel about it! (He races after him, grinning.)

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor dances back out of reach, tossing his head with a laughing sniff ]

I won't be easily caught!

[castintoflames]

What sort of chase would it be if you were? (He is light on his feet despite his height, but Maglor is a challenge nonetheless; a challenge he accepts delightedly.)

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor sticks his tongue out playfully, watching Maedhros warily. In the open Maedhros has the advantage with his longer reach, but Maglor is still the more agile of the two. If he can predict his brother's moves, he'll be fine, he knows ]

I am glad you are up for a proper challenge, then!