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[sithiche]

[ The feed is staticky and the image is dim, but it is still quite easy to make out long ears and bright green eyes thanks to an orb of light hovering somewhere off camera. His chin is propped in his hand, and he looks weary and almost bored. ]

Well, you lot certainly know how to make someone feel welcome around here. I don't know if I'll be able to handle this much excitement if it's going to be the norm. Not that I'm not thankful that the walls have stopped shaking and all. [ He gives a bit of a grimace at that, even if it's fleeting. ]

Anyway. Anyone else looking for a way to kill the time while we're stuck down here hiding like rats and whatnot?

[ He pauses, and then: ]

And by that, I mean something to do that's not offering up my jugular.

Comments

[inafadingcrown]

[The hesitation is noted, but not remarked upon.]

A new acquaintance, then?

[Yes, small talk. Sue her, she's bored too.]

[sithiche]

"Acquaintance". Yes, you could say that.

[inafadingcrown]

For one lacking in entertainment, you seem most reticent to speak. [Throw her a bone, here.]

[sithiche]

A rude vampire who wants to feed on me.



A French vampire.

[inafadingcrown]

[Pause] I am afraid neither "vampire" nor "french" means aught to me.

[She has no idea what you are talking about.]

[sithiche]

[ He doesn't seem entirely disoriented by this information. After all, he knew of many older fey who had not walked among humans for millennia. ]

A vampire is an undead human who sustains themselves by feeding upon human blood.

"French" means that he's from France, a human nation known for its entirely undeserved sense of superiority and propensity for losing wars.

[inafadingcrown]

I see...

I gather these "vampires" are not able to feed themselves on human blood alone. [Since obviously you wouldn't have a problem otherwise. And, yes, that may be her quiet way of trying to discover his race.]

[sithiche]

Humans are their primary diet... But I guess we're some sort of extra-special treat to them.

[inafadingcrown]

Charming. Mayhaps they find us well-aged, like a fine wine. [Galadriel, stop. No. Bad joke.]

[sithiche]

[ He blinks, before laughing at that. ]

I was under the impression that it might be the magic, but maybe you're onto something there.

[inafadingcrown]

[She leans forward, visibly intrigued.] You have gifts of your own, then?

[sithiche]

Yeah, of course.

[inafadingcrown]

Are they so common where you are from? I would not say that such things are rare, but it is usually only the more powerful of the Eldar who are so blessed. And even then, we are more want to speak of "craft" and "skill" than "magic."

[sithiche]

In my kind, yeah. It's... fairly standard, really. Not to say that craft or skill has no part in it, but that's more to just... hone what comes to us by nature.

[inafadingcrown]

Oh, I do not mean to say that it is otherwise for those of us so blessed. It is more... [Hmm, how to explain this.] the term "magic" is frought with difficultly, for it seems to us mortals use it for many things- the gifts of the Istari, the deceits of the Enemy, and, yes, "Elf-magic," if you wish to call it such.

[sithiche]

I guess it's not so much of a problem where I'm from... Mortals think that we're myths now. The ones that even bother to remember us.

[inafadingcrown]

That time will come for us soon enough.

[sithiche]

What makes you say that?

[inafadingcrown]

The time of the Elves is waning; my people begin to depart the shores of Middle Earth or else to diminish in power. [And she sounds oddly at peace with this.]

[sithiche]

Oh. That sounds familiar, kind of.

[inafadingcrown]

Does it?

[sithiche]

Yeah. My kind decided to... distance themselves from mortals. But that was a long time ago. Before I was born.

[inafadingcrown]

It is easier; there is heartbreak involved in becoming close to mortals. [Easier but not necessarily better.]

[sithiche]

Yeah. I know.

[inafadingcrown]

Yet there was a time in my world when Elves and Men were most closely allied. "The Two Kindreds," they called us.