Elwen

Don't remind me of my Lynne-ish-isms, please! *sighs long-sufferingly* But all my stories are so...angsty! And yes, I eat angst flakes for breakfast, Merry.

Calonderiel grits his teeth as he climbs to his feet, violet eyes cold and hard as he lashes back with his own inner Power at the one who attacked him, breaking the mage-net that held him there. In a smooth motion, he draws one of the two swords sheathed at his side, and, placing it carefully on the ground, kicks it in Gabriel's direction. In this fight, he'd be useless when it came to blades. The familiar, rich and mocking laughter echoed from the doorway. "You have gotten better, Calonderiel Le'lorinel. Ten years ago, you were strong enough, but you had not the training to break the weave." the assassin fairly purrs, stepping across the threshold. About six and a half feet tall, broad-shouldered and handsome, he personifies the old saying What is fair can be foul, and what is foul fair. "But then, since you are going to fulfill your destiny, you need all the sorcery at your command...and not running wild." "Kisama!" Calonderiel hisses at him, his soft voice as loud as it can get-which is not very loud, considering that when he shouts at the top of his lungs, it's at a normal person's ordinary speaking voice. {{OOC: OK, so I really didn't need to use Japanese, but I felt like it. Kisama basically is a dignified way of saying "you bastard!"}} "Such language has no business coming out of your pretty lips." the Shadow-servant continues, ignoring the elf's outburst. "Now, there are two ways we can settle this. Either you come with me now, peacefully..." he trails off, and a truly evil expression comes over his face, as he indicates the others in the room. "Or they die. You don't want to have another five deaths because of you, now do you, chiya?"

Elwen smiles, her mysterious half-smile filled with sadness. "No. Merely reflecting on who I used to be. Pay me no mind." Shimmering over the "solid" form of the dark-haired Elf maiden is a silver-haired woman about a foot taller, with fox ears and tail, golden-eyed and dressed in gossamer robes, barely opaque in the "right" places.

*nods in agreement* Hai, ashke. Level 10 sounds fine. *smirks again* And that is why, in my campaign, I made a little rule concerning wands and such. If you don't have the level to cast the spell, then you don't get the wand/scroll/whatever.

*takes a small sip of tea, and promptly spits it out* Merry, you already know this, but I shall repeat what Emily has said many times: you can get high off the air, onna! My friend, this is funny...extend it and use it as an Original Work for forensics next year. Goddess knows that someone needs to be funny, what with me around...

*sighs* Thank you, Mr. Litz, for that wonderfully enlightening question. Damn, I hate biology sometimes...

The door opens and the aforementioned Elf walks in. Iriador looks at the human woman coldly, flecks of gold showing through the gray, as she instinctively doubles her shielding. "So you are the one who is supposed to babysit us." Iriador says in an equally eerie, calm alto voice. "Lady Yvette." Her tone is slightly mocking, completely out of character for the woman she had been. The sorceress glares at Harmon. I do not know what she has been told...but it will not be so easy as she thinks, to find Elwen.

I think this is the course "How Not to Roleplay 101", or a satire of a "How to RP" course...I hope.

*smirks* You were the one who let me have that wand of ice storm, ashke...

OOC: There is one exception to the character-controlling, and that is with regards to sensing things in the environment. *ducks thrown objects* I, as the Storyteller/DM who is in charge of the story, can make your character "sense" something, see something in the environment, have visions, etc...but I won't control your reactions to said premonitions, etc. I give you the info...it is up to you how you use it.. I'm not sure if that counts as character controlling, but it's going to be necessary...what I say as the Storyteller will be in [____]. Example: [You sense danger.] I would tell you that you sense danger-but I don't make your character's decisions for you. Hope no one gets mad. And Calonderiel has an extended flashback in this post... while IC no one else will know anything (except maybe Gabriel), it’ll give more info on the background, his history, and his motivations (i.e., who the heck Devaberiel and Hikari were). I’ll shut up now. And yes, Calonderiel is feather-light. He doesn’t eat enough. (None of my characters do…*sweatdrops*) ~Elwen Calonderiel looks at the two young human boys. (Sorcerers...) the Elf thinks, realizing that they have the Power. (But not quite Awakened...on the threshold...but their power hasn't shown itself yet.) he brushes back a lock of pale hair, and notices Jareena's annoyance. He doesn't comment, well used to it...(I suppose she thinks that I'm a cold heartless bastard. Fine. If no one gets attached to me, all the better for when I die. No one will mourn me that way.) His eyes drift closed, long lashes lying on pale cheeks, as he calls on the innate Power within him...he knew perfectly well that those two Shadow-servants in the alley were only the beginning. There would be others. (And I know that they have my aura patterns…as long as I am here, they are a danger to those around me. No one else will die because of me.) Without speaking or gesturing-he had studied how to use magic without either-he begins weaving two spells, a circle of protection around the mill, and a spell that would alert him to the approach of any Shadow-servants…especially one that tried to get in. [Gabriel, Cole, and Mordekai sense a little of this casting. Jareena, if your character has any supernatural ability, is at least a quarter Elven, or has been trained to sense magic, she senses it as well.] The Elf’s cat-slit eyes flutter open, as he continues to hold the spells in place and pushing the energy drain to the back of his mind. (They must be safe…at all costs.) the ranger thinks, swaying a little and feeling lightheaded, despite his efforts to avoid such effects. By chance, he looks in Gabriel’s direction, and gets a good look at the bard for the first time. His mouth opens in a silent gasp of surprise, and for a moment, the walls that have been shrouding his violet eyes in ice shatter. A different person, frail, lost, and oh so sad, seems to be looking out of those once cold eyes, and a sorrow so profound, deep, and aching, that one could wonder how it hasn’t killed him, fills them. (It can’t be…it can’t be…) A whispering cry of long-buried pain finds its way out from between his lips, but only one who has sharp ears can hear it, as Calonderiel is swept back into the tide of memories… (FLASHBACK) “You seem under the weather, Cal.” The cheerful voice of his friend startled Calonderiel out of his dark musings. “Come on, lighten up. It’s a bright, sunny day, it isn’t raining, no one’s tried to run us out of town yet…you shouldn’t be so gloomy.” Calonderiel turned and looked at his best friend. Devaberiel Silverhand was standing up and he was sitting down, and because of it, their more-then-half-a-foot difference in height was almost negated and they were at eye level with each other. The bard’s cat-slit ice-blue eyes were sparkling with some hidden joke, as they always were. “Come on, Cal. Smile for once in your life. You’d be even prettier if you’d smile and look at least a /little/ happy.” “Hn.” Calonderiel said: he was /never/ in the mood for smiling. His half-forgotten book was sitting on the table, but he made no move to pick it up. He didn’t feel entirely well… “Another thing. You count your words like a miser counts coins. I know that silence is golden, but enough is enough!” Devaberiel threw up his hands in mock frustration. “’Hn’ is no way to carry on a conversation.” The older Elf held out a wineskin. “Will you at least have a drink?” “No.” Calonderiel said shortly. “You are absolutely no fun.” Devaberiel crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to take a step closer, but somehow managed to trip in the process, knocking Calonderiel off the bar stool and onto the floor, pinning the ranger down with his slightly heavier weight. The blond felt his face flush when he heard what was probably half the tavern catcalling and cheering, and /really/ wanted to kill Devaberiel. “What are you doing, Devaberiel?” the musical voice of his adopted older sister, Hikari Le’lorinel, was the next thing he heard. With Devaberiel-that clumsy lummox! It was like he was a human, not an Elf!-still on top of him, Calonderiel couldn’t see the other Elf, but he knew that the lady knight was there-and probably enjoying the situation. “Trying to seduce my brother? If you are, I’ll kick you from here to Everien.” The girl said mock-sternly. Devaberiel hastily scrambled up. “Of course not, ma’am. It wasn’t what you think it was.” The bard said. Hikari turned her best stern face on him. “Really?” If Calonderiel hadn’t been feeling so damned miserable, he would have strangled both of them. The copper-haired woman’s face turned to worry when she saw that her brother still hadn’t moved. “Cal, are you alright?” Calonderiel managed at last to push himself off the floor, feeling /very/ dizzy. “Yes.” He managed between clenched teeth. “You’re lying.” Hikari said, and she exchanged looks with Devaberiel. “Threshold sickness.” She said. The elf crumpled back to the floor, and he knew nothing more for a long time… (END FLASHBACK) Calonderiel shakes himself out of the tide of memory, and the walls once more hide the fact that there was a /person/ staring out of violet eyes. (He reminds me of Devaberiel.) the Elf thought sadly, realizing the truth. Gabriel reminded him of his best friend, ten years dead. His eyes widened as the sudden magical attack slammed him into the wall. He recognized this power...(That bastard!) Calonderiel tried to fight back, but despite the fact he had more power, the other was more experienced...and he was on the losing side. [All of you sense the presence of a /very/ powerful Shadow-servant.]

*is stunned* Thank you...I didn't expect anyone (besides the people I told) to know it was my birthday. I guess people /do/ read those little notice things at the bottom...*bows in gratitude to Peredhil, Salinye, and smallscale_mind_games, and whoever else may decide to say something*

*sweatdrop* I know absolutely nothing about basketball. But I'll get back to you...one of my friends in my IB English class is so into basketball he watches EVERY GAME that is on...he should know. OK, I really should have left three minutes ago...Lady Bright, I'm going to be late!! Bye!

Merry-I like these poems a lot. I think I understand the first stanza of the second poem...I'll explain it to you at school, if you want. Bright Goddess-I've got to leave! See you at school! *runs away frantically*

*eyes wide* Wonderful. *bows apologetically* That is all I can think of. Sorry. Your work is beautiful... And on an OT sidenote...I'm writing out a history of the world of the Dreaming and will put it up in the Assembly Room in a few days. I think that'll work better...I'll PM you and everyone else who wanted info when I put up that "story." Have a nice day!

I watch a lot of anime, and this poem was inspired by one of my favorite anime bishounen. (to those of you who don't speak Japanese, this is one of the few phrases I know: it means "pretty boy".) If you want to know /who/ this is about, I'll tell you at the bottom... Metal rings on metal as a sword is drawn The light glints off the steel blade Nothing can save you from your death- Your deeds have brought upon you this fate Your life ends tonight Along with all the darkness you have wrought The child before you is the instrument of that fate Impossibly beautiful, slight and so sad Hair of rubies spun into silk Amethyst eyes of glittering ice Pale and slender, silent and sorrowful An angel of death, cloaked in black The katana flashes downward In a single, graceful motion And this source of darkness is extinguished forever More blood stains the pale hands Blood that can never be washed away Fragile young man with a girl’s name Trapped in this endless cycle Hunter who hunts the dark ones beyond redemption The wrongdoers beyond law’s reach But who is himself beyond redemption Without a purpose, no hope for himself Only living for his sister’s life Waiting for the day when she will wake Then he can say goodbye… O silent rose with your petals of blood You cry again tonight O fragile flower with your petals of glass Frozen blossom, rose trapped in ice How long will it be before you break? Pawn in this game of human chess Can you ever be free, child? Chained to the darkness by a thousand screams You attempt to protect the frail- But you cannot even save yourself The character in question is Aya Fujimiya from Weiss Kreuz. (aka Knight Hunters in the U.S.)

The Three Guardians A Parody (Pamela, Lynne, and Christine are watching anime at Lynne’s house) (a knock comes at the door) Lynne: I’ll get it. Dammit, why does it have to be at the good part? (walks to the door and opens it) (a guy that looks like Dr. Odine from FF8 stands there) Guy: (with a horrible, cheesy French accent) You must save ze world! Lynne: Not interested. Go away! (slams door) (comes back) Pamela: Who was it? Lynne: Some crackpot. (knock again) Lynne: (annoyed) I’ll get it. Tell me what happens. (stomps off and opens the door) Guy: You must save ze- (slams door) (goes back downstairs) Pamela: Who was it? Lynne: The crackpot came back. Pamela: Does your house just attract crackpots or what? Lynne: (shrugs innocently) Christine: Dude- (knock on window: it’s the same guy from before) Guy: You must save ze world! (the three girls exchange looks) Christine: Dude, how are we supposed to save the world? Lynne: (interrupts) We’re not interested. Go away. Pamela: Hold on a minute. We have to save the world? Guy: (impatiently) Yes, you must save ze world! Christine: Dude, we have to save the world! Lynne: … Pamela: You aren’t very enthusiastic. Christine: Dude, what can little old me do? Guy: Go to ze super-secret base of our super-secret organization. There you will learn everything. Christine: Dude, we’re going to save the world! (starts dancing with Pamela rather excitedly) Pamela and Christine: (singing) We’re going to save the world! We’re going to save the world! We’re going to save the world! Lynne: …I have nothing better to do. Guys, stop singing. Christine: Dude, you’re no fun. (opens window) Guy: Here is ze map that you will need. (hands it over) Christine: Thanks! (shuts window) Pamela: …Great. Whose car do we take, yours or mine? Guy: None of ze above! Christine: Hey! Are you insulting my little car? ‘Cause if you are… Guy: No! We have a high-tech car for you. BMW made it. Pamela: …A BMW? Now that’s cool. Lynne: (picks up her backpack) If we have to do this, then we’d better get going. Christine: That’s the spirit. Guy: You must hurry, ze world needs saving! Lynne: What am I going to tell my parents… Christine: We can think of something. Pamela: Let’s go, there’s time enough to think of that later. (the guy leaves, and the three girls walk out the door.) Christine: I’m driving, I’m driving! Pamela: …sigh… Lynne: I don’t care who drives, just as long as we don’t get into an accident. (she climbs into the backseat, buckles her seatbelt, and promptly stretches out across the seat. She pulls a copy of X/1999: Prelude out of her backpack and happily settles down to reading.) Christine: (hops into the driver’s seat) Let’s go, we’re going to save the world! Pamela: (refusing to give up) Let’s play best of three for it. Christine: (looks at her) Rock-paper-scissors? Pamela: Yes, that’s what I mean! Christine: Sure! Both: Rock, Paper, scissors-shoot! (Pamela shows paper and Christine scissors) Christine: All right! I won! Pamela: It’s not over yet! Both: Rock, Paper, scissors-shoot! (Pamela has rock and Christine paper) Christine: Dude, let’s rock on! I’m driving! Pamela: (desperately) Best of five? Christine: Nope! Pamela: Best of four? Christine: I’d still be ahead. I’m driving, dude! (Pamela grumbles, but settles herself into the passenger seat.) Lynne: Can we get our act together and get going? Christine: (gently sarcastic) Look at Miss Serious-About-Her-Work. What happened? Lynne: Well? (taps her foot impatiently) Christine: Jeez, hold your horses. (starts car) Pamela: I think she was inspired by our example. (Lynne starts choking) Pamela: (reaches into the backseat and pounds Lynne on the back) Jeez, are you OK? Lynne: …No comment. Christine: Here we go! (backs out of driveway and starts driving away) (they drive and drive and drive) (A day later…) (Christine has been eyeing the red button on the dashboard, as has Pamela. Lynne pulls off her headphones and puts all her stuff into her backpack, putting it on.) Lynne: You guys, can’t you read the sign? (The button is labeled with several signs: “Don’t Touch”. “Don’t Press.” “Don’t Push.” “Don’t Depress.” “Don’t Compress”. “Don’t Even Think About It.”) Christine: What sign? Lynne: The ones that say to not touch the red button. Christine: Oh, those signs. (thinks about it) Hmm…(pushes the button) Pamela and Lynne: Christine!!! Christine: (sheepishly) Oops. (Alarms start going off.) Computer Voice: Warning. Detonation in ten minutes. Detonation in ten minutes. This car will self-destruct. I repeat, this car will self-destruct. Pamela and Lynne: Christine!!!! (they both glare at her) Christine: (sheepishly) Oops. I guess I wasn’t supposed to push it. Lynne: That was kind of the point!!! Christine: Sorry…(sweatdrops) Pamela: If you don’t floor it, if you follow the speed limit, I’m going to kick your butt. Lynne: Pam, if we get blown up, you can’t kick her butt. Pamela: Oh yeah. Good point. (considers) I’ll kick your butt in all our next lifetimes. (Christine floors it) (Nine and a half minutes later they arrive at the super-secret base) (Christine stops the car. All three girls jump out and run away from it.) Christine: (sees some people running their way) Stay away! Don’t get near that car! (The car explodes) Pamela: You do realize that we’re going to be in trouble? Christine: I already said I was sorry! (the Guy comes out) Guy: You have already wrecked ze car? And we just gave it to you. Christine: (sweatdrops) Uh… Guy: Come along. J is waiting for you. Christine: Who’s this ‘J’ character? Guy: He’s the head of J Branch. Lynne: This sounds like those James Bond movies my brother likes watching. Pamela: You’re right, it does. (the Guy leads them off) (In J Labs…) Guy: J, I brought you ze girls. And they already wrecked ze car. Pamela and Lynne: It was her fault! (they point at Christine) Christine: Guys, that’s not fair! Pam, you were looking at the button funny too. Pamela: I didn’t push it, now did I? That’s the difference. Christine: (ruefully) Uh…you’re right. J: Well…let me talk to them. (the Guy goes away, and J is revealed as Justin Mensah.) Pamela, Christine, and Lynne: Justin?! Justin: Surprised, huh? I get to work with all the cool machinery and the hot girls. Pamela: Don’t start rambling, please! Justin: Anyway, that car you guys blew up was new, dammit! It was my baby, it took me months and months to customize it! Christine: We’re sorry, we’re sorry. Justin: (mock-crying) There simply isn’t another car like it here! Pamela: Get a hold of yourself, man! Justin: Oh, I am. Now, the good news: there’s a better car. Christine: So what was with all the boo-hooing? Justin: That was /my/ car you blew up. Christine: Oh. Justin: And make sure you bring back all the technological implements of mass destruction (like grenades and guns and motorcycles and whatever else I give you). Those things aren’t cheap, ya know. M: Yeah, there isn’t enough money as it is! Justin: Hello, M. Pamela: Now this really sounds like James Bond… Justin: (whispering behind his hand) The boss wanted that title. He watches a lot of James Bond. Lynne: If I didn’t know any better, that sounds like… (M is revealed…) M and Lynne: Ahhh! (M is Lynne’s younger brother, Joe!!!) Joe: I wanted three good female agents, but I got you guys?! Pamela: Hey, we’re not so bad! Joe: The world is dooméd. Christine: Don’t you mean ‘doomed?’ Joe: No, I mean dooméd! Christine: Same difference, dude. Joe: No, it’s not the same thing at all! Christine: Whatever, man. Pamela: (aside to Lynne) Is he always like this? Lynne: Sometimes he’s worse. Joe: I heard that! Lynne: You were supposed to. Joe: Is that a challenge? Lynne: No. Joe: Are you chicken? Lynne: No, just prudent. Joe: That’s yes in my book. Christine: Is everything yes in your book? Joe: (glares) No. ...Work in Progress, folks. That's all I have. Me and my demented humor...

Destined Mirror Awaken, destined ones Your fate is calling Come closer, fated ones The time has come Come to the forgotten temple There you will know everything The truth is dark and haunting Fate, mirrors of destiny A Web to be woven, the center to be held within All to be guided by a watcher of dreams Awaken, destined Keeper- Look within the mirror of your dreams Know the truth of the forgotten ones Come, destined ones, And with the fire of your truth, burn away the lies Come, destined ones, And with the fire of your passion, light the dark world Goodbye, destined ones- Now is the end of days.

"You should have been born me, then." Elwen says dryly, reminded of her first life, as the heartless kitsune Elwen. "Once upon a time, I shared your opinion on feelings. But..."

Elwen steps neatly out of his way, long white skirt making barely a whisper. "When parents must bury their children, it is a grave injustice." the elf sighs. "And restless spirits are earthbound for various reasons. She-" a slim finger indicates the child. "Was denied the chance to live the full life she deserved." Slender shoulders shrug beneath the white silk. "As for me, I should be content...I lived two lifetimes." The crystal teardrop she wears glows faintly. "Some who live deserve death, and some who are dead deserve life. But no one can give it to them." ((Yes, I know this is paraphrased from TTT: so shoot me.))

"I am an Elf, /not/ a half-elf." Elwen says in her quiet voice. "The Fifth Circle...it is complicated to explain, even though I experienced it first hand. The world I was born in and lived out my life in is a different one from your own. As the Ages of that world passed, the world moved through each of the "circles", progressively getting worse and worse every time. Finally, the Fifth Circle was a crossroads: either the world would be covered in darkness forever, or the trend would be reversed. I gave my life for the latter cause...I do not know if the gods on this world are real, but I know they are real on my world." she sighs. "For I made them real. Child, I did not intend for your feelings to be hurt. I did not expect you to know what the Fifth Circle was...not even in the end did I truly know what it meant."

"Elwen." the elf says slowly. "And /I/ am not fading, am I? I know I am dead...I gave my existence to close the Fifth Circle and preserve Divinity." Somewhere out there is a grave for a woman whose body does not lie there. The elf maiden who stands here now, who once was Hope and still is.

Completely against his better judgment, Calonderiel trails after Gabriel. (He reminds me of someone...) the ranger thinks. The elf gathers his cloak closer to his slender body, and pulls the hood forward to hide his head. He blinks slowly, realizing there is a source of Power within this mill-against all reason, a sorcerer lives here. Or three.

*laughs* Thanks anyway.

Question, Orlan-where did you hear that? But it does explain a lot. I wondered what they were smoking...

Elwen's Note: I forgot to log out, as noted by Damon under his post below, and he used the same computer and forgot to check to see exactly who was posting. So this post is actually written by him... OOC: Meow! It is obvious to the bard that the two hiding in the mill had not seen him, but he figured it was because he was nearly indistinguishable from a large rat... and still a wet one. Staying true to his reckless nature, he invites himself in and sits on a bag of flour. "Hello there!" he exclaims as he pulls out a half empty bottle of wine. in what appears to be a fraction of a second, the wine is gone, and there is a new bottle in his hand. "I certainly hope you can excuse me, as I tend to crawl into these things frequently. The good thing is that none of you need to worry about me getting drunk to the point where I stagger around and lok like an idiot. Alcohol is like water to me, but it tastes better! So... who are you two?"