*leans against a tree in the garden, surveying the party*

*thinks longingly of the parties she used to throw, and the people...*

Chandra...

*digs her nails into the bark of the tree, wishing she had worn her claws; she feels too defenseless, too elven without them*

*shows up at Caranthire's, loaded with notes and catalogues*

*kicks at the door, since she doesn't have a free hand*

*watches her guest leave*

*looks at the ( painting )

*stands in front of a mirror, making faces*

Right. Here goes nothing.

*smirks*


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( Picture entry )

Clothes, packed. Cave, cleaned up. Turufinwë's picture, not going to get any better no matter how long I sit and stare at it. As Irving would say, time to face the music. Let's just hope my brother remembers his offer.

*arrives on the doorstep of Casa Fëanor*

*knocks*

Anyone there?

*emerges from cave and walks briskly into Tirion*

*walks up to Turgon's and knocks*

*waits a moment*

*kicks*

Let's see if I can get this in order.

Went to Tirion

Met new favourite nephew niece

Sister is still a ditz, but a nice one

Avoided Mom *phew*

Scared the Morgoth out of nephew *smirks*

Was in fact so good in scaring nephew that he commissioned a portrait. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the difference between an average artist and a rich ( Read more... )

Diary of Irimë Lalwende Irimë's rants ( Read more... )