Deck the Halls

[woodking]

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.

Comments

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

Legolas didn't often linger on the third floor, not unless he wanted to put something in his room (which was rare) or wanted to meet someone. Today he was just visiting the music room, toying with a couple instruments to pass the time. Really, it could sometimes be hard to find things to keep him occupied. He didn't hunt as often as he would have otherwise back in Mirkwood or when he was traveling with the Fellowship. Since he had been a deer, he was far more wary of the animals. Not wanting to be responsible for someone dying.

Leaving the room though, he found himself pausing as he caught sight of familiar gold hair, robes. He blinked a couple of times, half thinking the castle had seen fit to toy with him again already, but no, his eyes weren't fooling him. He quickly took several steps from the room, meeting Thranduil and bowing from the waist.

"My Lord."

because this is the best way to greet acquaintances, amirite

[inafadingcrown]

Galadriel has, thus far, been doing fairly well in avoiding the annual kissing. Crowley had caught her off-guard, but other than that, she's been doing a fine job of ducking out the way and waiting for other people to pass by before going into a room. Walking down the third floor hallway isn't even a challenge at this point.

Except that seeing Thranduil step out from a room is startling enough to get her to stop walking. And- of course, he wouldn't know about the mistletoe. That would explain why he made no effort to avoid it.

And she's been here long enough to know the pull of this particular magic when she feels it. She purses her lips in irritation.

"You should not linger under that plant."

Granted the warning is probably too late this time, but better he know what caused this sort of thing anyway.

[wizard_redfive]

She really should know better than to leave the room this time of the year, she really should. But that pesky cabin fever got the best of her.

Dairine was trying to sneak down to check on Neets when a door swings open nearby. She jumps back reflectively, attempting to get as much distance between her and whoever is stepping out.

"Careful there!"

Thankfully, she gets out of range in time, though the danger isn't over yet. Too many mistletoe were around. She had to keep her distance from this guy.

'Speaking of this guy'... Dairine frowns as the panic recedes and she finally starts to notices his appearance. The long blonde hair, the ridiculous height, the regal bearing, the richly decorated clothes... Did the castle just grab one of Roshaun's relatives? For that matter, did Roshaun even have any living relatives that Dairine hasn't met? She supposes it wouldn't matter; the castle could grab people from any time, living or not. Who knows who this could be?

[tylendel]

Thranduil was quite a sight. The young Herald Mage paused in the corridor, his brown eyes widening in wonder. He must be - Yes. Another Elf. A small smile crossed his lips and he bowed in respect, his golden curls falling to obscure his vision.

In comparison, his clothes were...simple. He preferred earth tones - brown, green, blue - and simple, soft fabric. Tylendel was a noble - and a Lord in fact - but he chose not to flaunt it. In fact, he would rather not even think about his family. But that was a story for another time.

"Greetings." he rose up and put his hands in his pockets, "How do you like the castle?"

Ugh I am so late to this! /rolls on in like an avalanche

[wishmadeinfire]

Ashura had long ago given up fitting with the medieval trappings of the Castle. At six foot and willow thin, he was not the sort of person you might expect to find in a place of hard stone and cool halls. The long, pointed ears (longer than Thranduil's by a ways) set him even further apart, along with the floor length midnight hair.

Today he wore light, icy blue, white, and gold, the high neck and wrists rimmed tightly with white fur, the long robe flit up his legs and displaying the white doe-skin trousers he affected for the winter. Gold and aquamarines dotted the length of his ears, and a few more shaped like snow crystals dotted the length of his ebony hair, turning it into a snowy night. The only other color being that of a ruby on a torque about his throat.

Wanting light exercise without going out into the cold, he had taken to going up and down the steps of the castle, seeing who was here, who had left, how many empty rooms there were now. It was saddening and heartening at the same time, which was an odd enough feeling. He came down a hall on the third floor, the silvery blue of his robes slightly trailing, golden eyes catching sight of Thranduil - and it was not hard to place his race, given he was friends with Legolas and Galadriel and had met many more besides.

"Am I correct in thinking you hail from Middle Earth?" Ashura asked from his six foot height.