paradisalogs | Deck the Halls

Entry tags:

Deck the Halls

Who: Thranduil and you!
What: Thranduil arrives! Kissmas shenanegins likely.
When: Now
Where: Floor 3
Rating: ... kissmas shenanegins likely. PG-13 to be safe?

When Thranduil had taken a step forward and found himself somewhere entirely different from where he had intended to be, the first thing he did was stop and examine his surroundings. Behind him was an open door of fine wood, behind that was an entirely unfamiliar hallway, in front of him was a room. It was furnished richly - too much so for his tastes, especially after having spent the past several thousand years becoming accustomed to the constraints and realities of living in Mirkwood, and even longer away from those whose business was crafting luxurious items that fulfilled no other purpose; the wood-elves made many beautiful things, but rarely anything so needlessly opulent. The sheer extravagance of his surroundings was in itself off-putting. Luxury was all well and good, but this....

Half because of the room and half because he should have been in a forest, and was beginning to wonder if the creatures he had come to attempt to dissuade from disturbing his people had somehow managed to reflect his magic back at him (but he was not asleep), Thranduil had turned and walked into the hall. It was nearly as rich as the room had been, gold and rich fabrics strewn everywhere, expensive woods and stones and glass as clear as water unfolding like a painting.

This was not home. This was nowhere familiar.

Exploring further was probably a good first step.

The door behind him had, in graceful script, his name on it, which was both thought-provoking and rather disquieting. It did, however, make him decide that it was as good a place as any to set down the bowl half-full of Dorwinion wine he was still holding, from the feast which he should still have been at; he had no real desire to carry it everywhere he went. Which left nothing to do but explore.

He both did and did not fit in with the grandeur of the castle - his robes were fine enough when the source was considered, but still rougher than what he was surrounded by, and there were a few dead leaves caught near the hem. He was crowned in leaves, with flowers braided through his hair, and although beautiful gems and gold and silver were winking at his belt and collar and fingers, they were not what lent him the aura of splendor that he carried with him. It was how he held himself which turned this all into a place where he could belong.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Can you call to them, or do they follow as they will?" It sounded like leaving it in one place forever was out of the question regardless. The idea of liquid traveling through pages was startling, but ink was just another liquid.

"They follow as they will, though I think they would come if you had summoning magic of some sort," he explained. "I do not possess such a thing, so I let it follow as it will. It tends to appear when you least expect it, but that sometimes comes in handy. And, they work, even beyond the Dead Zone."

He shifted, tugging his robes a bit closer about himself, his hair shifting and revealing the gold, and light, light blue gems that dotted his ears along their length. "Eventually, they become just another accessory to life here."

They do not come as they called, and do not stay where they were - briefly Thranduil wonders what a spell of sleep, if cast on it, would result. It would at least be interesting to see if it would tarry in its watchfulness, though for the moment it did not seem to be doing any harm. In any case, there was a more menacing part to what had been said.

"What is the Dead Zone?"

Names like that were not lightly given.

"A rather unsettling place, at least for me. There, no magic and no modern technology works," he explained. "You are left, essentially, powerless except for those skills not attained through magical or other means." He frowned, clearly just the thought making him shiver. He hated it, when his magic was stymied like that, like a river being blocked by a massive boulder. "Do not go there lightly, or at all if you can help it. We have to pass through it on expeditions, but that is the only time I willingly go there."

"Magic is not something that can be lost or simply turned off so easily." It was inborn, as much a part of who you were as the color of your eyes - moreso, perhaps, because form could be relatively transient. The suggestion that it could simply be gone was much the same as a suggestion that suddenly your arm could be gone, and was unsettling.

"Expeditions?"

"You think I do not know this? Yet I have gone to the Dead Zone many times and that is the result, every time, without fail or exception," he said sharply, golden eyes hardening for a moment as he regarded the other king. "It uncomfortable and disturbing, but it is what happens. I avoid it as much as possible. I can fight without my Talent, but there are dangers here that we would best not be faced without. As if that was not bad enough, the Castle can and does regularly take them away here on its whim when it changes its very form."

He looked at the stone walls again, as if expecting them to morph just to prove his point, but they remained calm stones.

"The expeditions are journeys we at the Castle have gone on to find answers to our predicament, because we have seen or heard something that warrants it. The last was to a meteor far away, in a village of giraffes. The things that came from it... were unsightly, to say the least."

"I don't rely on magic when I fight, but to be without it would be...." His voice trails off; what a person could do was a part of who they were, unique for each person. There shouldn't be a category to wipe out, unless a very, very broad net was cast, and who knew what else would be taken with it?

"These are things which should not be possible." He sounds calm enough again, though not particularly happy.

He would have been content to leave the last statement alone (he had no idea what Giraffes were, but it did not sound as though it was too important) if not for the last part of the statement. So, though he does not ask, he directs a questioning look at Ash.

He smiled bitterly at the elf king. "Paradisa itself should not be possible, and yet it is. I suggest you begin redefining your definition of that word, if only for your own sanity," he advised.

He was no fool, seeing the look and he sighed, shivering as he recalled it. "They were bug like - and hostile. We have to battle some, and it was difficult, to say the least. We did not learn much though, which is a pity, but I do not think anyone could speak their language anyways. The giraffes brought us back when it was done, but that thing that fell from the sky is still out there. Thankfully, I do not think many of those bugs survived the crash of what I think might have been there ship."

He was old; he did not like having things changed on him as things have been changed. There was enough to keep track of without changing the rules partway through the game.

His eyes narrow at the summary. "Then it would not have been unfamiliar." The spiders did not come from the sky, but otherwise the tale sounded similar enough.

"Then you might be the only one," he admitted. "Most of us were taken by surprise and shocked at the least. And there are other things besides, but you might be better off reading about them since some were before my time here," and also because he did not wish to stand in this hall way forever giving a history lesson of this place.

"Besides, there are a few things that should be gone over as well," he carried on. "Has anyone explained to you about wishing and losses here?" he asked, because that was always the first two subjects one needed to cover. Again, for the sake of preserving sanity.

"My home has long since been overshadowed by evil. The Great Spiders that came as a plague are but one symptom, but have required constant battle to control for many years." Standing in the hall forever covering history would not be Thranduil's preference either, for all that it was important to know more or less what he was dealing with.

"No." There's a hesitant pause, because the words are familiar enough, but the order doesn't make sense, nor do they make sense if taken as simple items in a list. "Wishing and losses are... connected?"

"But of course. You cannot wish for something and have it granted and not expect to pay a price, can you?" he inquired, arching both brows now. The concept was not new to Ashura, and had been a focus point in his own world in his discussions with Yuuko over their short, but enlightening relationship. Some things, after all, had no equal...like a life... He snapped himself out of that train of thought and focused on Thranduil again.

"The Castle provides for us, but even so, if you want new things you either find a way to produce them manually somehow or you wish for them. If it is within reason - such as, say, a blanket - the Castle grants it and it appears for you. You can wish for a long time, for many small things, or at once for a large thing, but eventually the Castle is going to call your dues. These take the form of a loss and they are myriad in their forms. I personally have been turned into a child, a statue, a woman, and put to sleep within a painting for a month among others."

His head tilts as he considers it.

"I suppose that is true. I had not considered it before; wishes are not something I need to deal with practicalities regarding.

"It can do anything, then?"

"That has been the reasoning so far, and there has been nothing to suggest otherwise," Ashura admitted, perhaps a bit sourly. "The way it uses such power, though, is not always so kind. Some have died here, in its halls and because of its machinations. More than once we have been driven mad. And yet... it can be oddly sweet at times. It really means we must be on our toes at all times in this place."

Danger he knew, danger he could handle, but something that came offering gifts with one hand only to kill with the other was familiar, and not pleasantly so.

"Sweet how? What does it offer?"

"Glimpses into other worlds, little trips that let us experience someone we would never have otherwise. We've had festivals to celebrate holidays too," he mentioned. "Nothing bad has happened, it's just something nice. Of course, I have to think that's it's way of trying to ply us with sweets before the vinegar hits, but we take those little moments while we can. You learn to appreciate them."

He hesitates at the description. "I have learned to hesitate at the appearance of fair promises or gifts without any apparent conditions attached to them, moreso when the meaning of those gifts may be cloaked." The elves hae long enough history of that, at least.

"And learning to appreciate the moments of joy in a storm is nothing foreign."

"You will see - their meaning is not cloaked. As I said, they seem to be honey lacing the vinegar. When you go through the first cruelty here, it will become very apparent," he murmured, smoothing his robes. "I wish I could better prepare you for that, but it is something you will have to face when it comes - we can never predict them, usually that is."

"But maybe I should start with something else besides dour tidings and give you a proper tour."

"Merely because there is an obvious attack does not mean that which seems fair is free from harm." He knows full well that appearances do not always tell the truth of the matter they show - there are a few who have cause to know better, but he has become most intimately acquainted with the concept, even so. That which was overtly cruel was one thing, but he would not trust the gifts here any more than he would at home, and indeed less.

"There is nothing you can tell me?" But a tour is offered. "... I thank you, it would be appreciated."

"I could tell you of them, but they are rarely repeated. Telling you of one does not really prepare you for another," he admitted, though having to made him shudder at the truth of it.

But he let it slide off and he motioned for Thranduil to follow him, his wrists glimmering with a bit of gold, tinkling as well. "Come then, I shall show you the more important parts of the Castle to know. There is a very wonderful Library, a kitchen, we have a swimming pool and gym, there is the Four Seasons though you need to me careful in that room, and there are other buildings outside that if you do not mind I shall just politely point out. Winter does not agree with me."

"There is little enough in life that will truly repeat, there are merely echos of one event reflected into another." He'd lived long enough that he knew how different even like events could be. Everything was always changing. Nonetheless he brushed it aside and moved after him. Put together, the two of them probably looked like some sort of fashion show, grand robes and shining jewels.

"A gym? Mmm, as you say. Snow and cold generally make little enough difference to an elf, but I know that all are not the same."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Deck the Halls

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject