Video/Action; pretend this was posted at a normal hour

[inafadingcrown]

[The video feed flips on, focusing (after a few seconds of jostling around) on Galadriel, sitting on the steps of the Initiative Hold, her sheathed sword beside her. Having just finished training, she’s attired appropriately, wearing a simple dress and with her hair braided and wound about her head- displaying those pointed ears quite prominently for those who might have missed them before.]

I grow weary of the constant grey here. It is overlong since I have heard a running stream or seen the sunlight filtered through the forest canopy.

Tell me, those of you who have journeyed outside this city: does greenery yet remain in this world? It would do my heart well even to hear of it.

Comments

[inafadingcrown]

Among other things; it seems to be the term familiar to most.

[Galadriel can't exactly blame him for his lack of trust; not without being a hypocrite, anyway. And she's the last to deny that she's dangerous. She's just also good.]

Several; Her father is here also. The other elves you may meet do not hail from my home. I cannot speak of them overmuch.

[futurarex]

[his mouth tightens slightly once more. a veritable infestation. but at least she's cordial. that means he can be more or less cordial in return--for now, anyways.]

I suppose I will see them in time. And your name?

[inafadingcrown]

[Personally, she finds the vast numbers of humans rather odd. Why should they outnumber every other race so?]

I am Lady Galadriel of Lothlórien. [A little nod of her head.] And you?

[futurarex]

[he nods in return, in acknowledgement of the title she gives--but then, nearly everyone here seems to have a title, and if they don't, they're somehow proud of the lack.]

Prince Arthur Pendragon, of Camelot. I'd say it was good to meet you, but given the circumstances...

[and, you know. It's not. elves are sort of suspicious.]

[inafadingcrown]

[An understanding smile.] You are well met regardless.