iC: Inbox [Asgard]

[bythewaves]

My apologies for my absence
The wind may wander as it wills, and so betimes do I
If you wish, you may leave me a message

Comments

[day 392]

[abhero]

[Two days after the return from Alfheim, Maglor will find this in his inbox.

And he can bet his foot Hamel expects to be paid. YOU HAD THE NERVE TO DIE AFTER HE HELPED YOU, YOU OWE HIM MAN.]

*laughing so hard*

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor, for his part, stares at the bill incredulously for a long time before sighing. If he was the sort to facepalm, he'd be doing it right now. As it is, he really, really feels like he needs a drink. But... he did die, didn't he? So... Maybe Hamel has a point?

Eventually he picks up his pen (these ballpoint pens are amazing, and he likes them a lot - much neater than quill and ink) and writes you a response, which he'll drop off at Baldr at some point ]

Sir,

One might argue that several of those giants were killed as equally by me as you. However, I acknowledge that I reneged on any agreement to remain alive, for which I apologise. Having only been in this city for the space of one month, I find myself unable to return the full cost of the injuries you demand. In lieu of this, please accept this initial amount of 20 gold runes, and an invitation to [ insert name of Maglor's favourite pub here ] on [ insert random date ], where I have been invited to play. Wine and food will be provided for you from my account, and I will hope to be able to return you further balance of your fees at the close of the night.



[ He seals the envelope with his family's crest

:D

[abhero]

[Wow, so official! A short while after Hamel recieves the letter, Maglor will be approaches by a walking storage chest. How if found him is unknown, but it's magical, so there. The lid snaps open, there's a sound like a cat trying to cough out a hairball and finally the chest spits out a hard copy of a new bill, and a note:]

Accepted. Here's the new bill and I even cut off three giants because us heroes are generous.

Hamel

P.S: Scratch the chest's lid. It likes it

[The chest is, indeed, waiting expectantly for some pettings.]

[bythewaves]

[ That's what happens one you write bills to someone who was once a Prince~ Maglor, for his part, was minding his own business when the chest rocks up, and he cannot help but stare at it, before he laughs ]

And I had thought I had seen everything this world could bring.

[ he solemnly accepts the missive and on reading it obediently reaches out to pet the chest ] Well now, you can tell your Master thank you for the concession, hm? You have done your duty well, and I thank you.

I edit and there are still typos sob

[abhero]

[The chest leans into the touch. When he thanks it, it creaks happily and the lid cracks open to reveal… a tongue. Just a weird side effect of the runic magic that gave it life.

After leaving storage chest slobber all over Maglor’s hand, it turns away and marches back to Baldr.]

( OOC: handwave? tag his open log? )

*patpat*

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor is never going to get used to this world. But if he pretends the chest is a dog, he can manage, right? Right. ]

( ooc: haha, I figured it was the easiest option - up to you? we can say Hamel came, was very bored and got his cash, or we can play something out in the log if you like? )

[asgardsbeauty]

[In honor of the Earth holiday centering on love, Freya sends out a little gift around this time.

A small box containing a piece of chocolate will appear on your pillow during the day. When consumed, the chocolate’s magic will lift your mood for a short period of time. It’s accompanied by a note.]

Where love might bring about sorrow, it also welcomes joy.

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor has never see chocolate before, so he's more interested in the note, which brings a sad sort of smile ]

"though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater" eh?

backdated to Day 400

[asgardstricks]

[ In honour of the god centering on love being a giant frilly prissypants, Loki sends his own little gift just a few hours after hers.

His box of chocolate will look, smell, and taste exactly like Freya's did, appearing right next to where Freya's was or is if you haven't picked it up yet. The only difference between the two is that Loki's won't lift your mood; it'll give you loud and embarrassing flatulence for the next three hours.

It's also accompanied by a note. ]

Where joy might bring about yearning, it also welcomes wonder.

Action, backdated like hell if that's okay??

[palebee]

[ He arrives at the bar a bit late, a small stack of books and papers tucked neat under an arm in tow.

Since Alfheim, there have been more elves in Asgard's streets, and with a distant pang of self-directed irritation, Albus realizes that spotting the man may be more difficult than he'd first thought. Pointed ears and fair features might stand out like a sore thumb, but that was of markedly less use in a room full of aching hands.

Smoothing the sleeves of his long, blue robes, Albus presses an easy smile into place, peering with bland curiosity to the corners of the room. ]

Action; I am all about the backtagging <3

[bythewaves]

[ there may be many elves in Asgard these days, but few are as tall as Maglor, and none have his voice - lifted clear above the noise of the crowd is a voice as deep and wild as the sea - following it will lead Albus to the singer ]

Eärendil was a mariner
that tarried in Arvernien;
he built a boat of timber felled
in Nimbrethil to journey in;
her sails he wove of silver fair,
of silver were her lanterns made,
her prow was fashioned like a swan,
and light upon her banners laid.

action

[dragonsqueak]

[While Merlin's exploring this new place, wondrous and colourful and large in a way that his village has never been, he comes across a clear voice raised in song. The music draws him into the park, where he comes across Maglor.

Though he intends to creep closer silently, to observe without disturbing the bard, he missteps and a twig snaps beneath his shoes. Merlin winces, looking up to see if he's drawn attention to himself.]

action~

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor's songs have been melancholy, the memory of Beleriand raised far too close to the surface by the recent curse

Why did mother leave us? Why did you kill them?

Other things have also been brought up too - including the warrior instincts that have his head snapping up at the sound although he manages not to draw his blade, which is a relief when he sees his observer ]

Well now, good meeting, tithen pen.

[digophelia]

[After that mess, Alice is so angry, so upset that she knows she has to at least find something to do to keep herself occupied. It feels oddly familiar asking about fires and the like, but she can't help it. She's upset and he at least knows of what happened, even a little.]

Mister Maglor...?

[bythewaves]

Alice? [ Maglor looks up from where he sits, he has been caring for his blades - seeing her he is immediately concerned something is wrong but he does not rise, knowing how she dislikes him looming ]

What is the matter gwilwileth?

[digophelia]

[Does she do that bad of a job at it? Hiding herself? She tries to and apparently fails. There is a sense of urgency to Alice, who doesn't quite run up, but a quick walk of the sort up to him.

Something is wrong and Alice's hands are little too bruised and bloody. Guess who's been taking her fists against the walls?]

... Do you know anything else about that fire?

[bythewaves]

[ he can see those hands, Alice, and it makes him worry ]

Ah, gwilwileth what have you done to your hands? [ he murmurs, beckoning her over to him and setting his blades aside. He still carries a small pouch with basic first aid things, especially now. ]

The fire? I arrived there on my way home - Professor Snape was coming from the opposite direction, and I aided him in setting up a water chain before I ventured inside. What is it that you seek to know?

[digophelia]

[The last thing she wants is for him to see her have another meltdown or any shred of instability. Alice does reluctantly trudges over, immediately clasping her hands behind her back.Alice feels like a reprimanded child right now. She won't deny it, but she won't outright said what she did in anger. She remembers tidbits, just flashes.

Water? She remembers something wet enveloping, nothing else. Alice, of course, still keeps an irrational distance. Maglor may be on her good side, but it takes a while for her to warm up to others.]

There is talk of them accusing my friend starting the fire. But he wouldn't.

[And somehow, she spills out the next.]

And... they're accusing Neville of starting it, but he was in it, too. But I recall nothing, nothing at all. Just fragments and images. It's not right to accuse others of starting fires, especially when they're in it.

[It hits a little too close to home.]

[bythewaves]

Let me look at your hands gwilwileth? [ he coaxes patiently ] At the least I can dress them for you.

Neville? Ah, I remember - the boy the Professor pulled out. [ his lip twitches in amusement at the memory of the state of Professor Snape afterwards ] No, you are right, I doubt that the one who set the fire would be caught inside. As for your friend, if you say he did not, I do not doubt that you are right.

[digophelia]

[She doe seem to have a funny pace of approaching him each time. It's a bit of stop and go each time, once he gets her comfortable enough, Alice extends her bruised and bloodied hands.

She had been blinded with such rage that the pain didn't matter, she honestly wanted something to hit. Even with her composure, Alice can't help but tremble.

Again, there's a memory there, she's not sure why that bothers her.]

Well-

[She would like to say that she knows what it's like and it's not fair, but she nods. Snape had carried him out? Well, he may be an ass, but he can't be that bad.]

It's just completely unfounded accusing someone of that horrific act. It's tiring to see these things.

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor doesn't mind, very used to Alice's hestiation by now If he ever learns who did this to her, they will be short a head - when she finally allows him to look he tsks sorrowfully but doesn't ask questions, only carefully setting about cleaning and bandaging them, being as gentle as he knows how. ]

I am no healer gwilwileth but I do not think you have done much harm to them. [ yes, he can tell you hit something ] Still, if they hurt overly, I hope you will ask the healers to look hm?

Yes. [ he nods as he ties off the bandages ] It is never kind, but people are always looking for answers, and accusations may easily fly based on old grudges as much as evidence.

[digophelia]

This is... this is nothing. I've had much worse.

[If he's made her feel like more like a child now because of his fatherly mannerisms and height, it has seemed to grown even more now. Alice doesn't directly look at him, not yet. She flexes her hands and drops them back to her side. She doesn't see it that simple, there's more to it.]

I am worried for them. When there are no answers, oftentimes, people will scoop up innocent bystanders and do more than accuse. It's a scorn that they'll wear, especially Pyro. He couldn't have done it.

[No matter how mad he was. Alice is getting a headache again, as she tries to push it out of her mind.]

It was inside, wasn't it? I heard voices.

[bythewaves]

No harm is ever nothing. [ he says gently, but he won't push further, putting aside his supplies - he'll restock later ]

Tis sadly true, alas. [ was that what they did to you? he wonders ] But at the least he has friends who stand by him, eh? If you say it was not him, then I believe you.

Inside? Ah, that I found you? Yes. You were searching the rooms. I could not convince you that there was no one left.

[dragonsqueak]

Good...meeting. [Merlin draws himself upright sheepishly.]

I didn't mean to interrupt you.

[digophelia]

[There goes any hope that Alice could remember anything to help find out who did it. She hates to think about it, it gives her a headache each time.

And Alice will stubbornly insist that she will be fine despite her hands aching. The point is she can still grip.]

They will not find anyone at this rate.

[She gives an awkward shuffle, trying to push it out of her mind and go back to clasping her hands behind her back. All Alice can do is shake her head in gentle refusal. Being fret over like this is something she's not used to.

The same pace repeats itself, Alice shrinks away, gazing back up at him, finally. Tall men always make her nervous.]

What rotten luck.