two immortals walk into a bar

[eonflamewing]

Come, all ye immortals... You walk into a bar. Maybe you were given a ticket by a fellow passing immortal, or had the prescience to obtain one yourself - whichever it is, the well-polished key will take you to an establishment that operates outside the confinements of spacetime. A bar exclusively for immortals, whether you were born this way or attained it as a mortal being. Gods, demons, vampires - no matter what you are, you are welcome here. It serves a myraid of drinks and snacks catered to the tastes of every world, so it's easy to find something palatable (even including human souls, if that's your preferred food). A corridor leads down the lounge to a variety of other rooms. Opening a door would transform it into a pool room, a singing room, or perhaps a quiet place for meditation. The establishment responds to the will of its patrons - as long as you behave, you will be allowed to stay here for as long as you like. Come in and take a seat. Maybe there's someone looking for you. [ this meme is for nonhuman characters who have lifespans longer than humans. OU, AU, OC, whichever goes! ]

Comments

Maglor | Tolkien | OTA

[bythewaves]

[ There's a bard in the bar (isn't there always?) or maybe he's a guy in the corner with a voice like the sea and a skill with his guitar that seems magical.

Maybe he's always there, maybe he isn't.

Maybe he comes and goes, just like all the others, here, sometimes wearing jeans and a leather jacket, sometimes in a suit, sometimes in worn robes, and sometimes dressed like a prince.

But there's always music, in a bar. Maybe he's the source ]

[inspiredvoice]

[It doesn't matter the day, or what he's wearing, or who he's being today, because today is the day she comes straight for him. There's no second guessing if it's pointed or intentional, because her eyes lock on him, and her stride is purposeful, all long legs clad in leather, and long fiery hair.

She takes a chair, spins it backwards, plunking down across it, arms draped over the backrest. Those eyes are blue and intense, staring at him as if she can see all the way inside. Maybe that slight smirk on her lips is saying she likes what she sees.

Or maybe she's always like this with people she's never met before.]

Play me something.

[bythewaves]

[ He's performer, always has been, no matter what else he has been (has done) and he tips his head in a smile when she asks ]

Is there something specific you'd like me to play?

[inspiredvoice]

[She rests her chin on the back of her folded arms. Those eyes never leave him, always dancing.]

What ere moves your soul, Babycakes.

[bythewaves]

[ He smiles in answer and his finger sweep across the strings, as he lifts his voice, curling like gold in the air ]

Gil-galad was an Elven-king
Of him the harpers sadly sing
The last whose realm was fair and free
Between the mountains and the sea

But long ago he rode away
And where he dwelleth none can say
For into darkness fell his Star
In Mordor where the Shadows are

[ It's a lament, a well know one, sad and echoing wistful, the image of the last High King of the Noldor-in-Exile striding forth, clad in blue with eyes bright and clear.

But then the song changes ]

In Valinor, where spring doth dwell
In lands where light is true
Walks Erenion still, the last High King
Now living born anew

The grass is green, the waters clear
The tower now has fallen
The lands of old are changed and healed
The dark lord's power is broken!

[inspiredvoice]

Ah such a voice.

[She sighs it out, wistful, but pleased all the same.]

I haven't heard it's like since my nephew. I suppose the reminder makes that happy ending a bit more bearable.

[It sounds like she's teasing, but what about is hard to say.]

[bythewaves]

Thank you.

[ He smiles - no false modesty here ]

He's been gone a long time now, but he died a hero. I'm sure Mandos has released him back to life by now.

[inspiredvoice]

[Oh ho, her brow quirks at that.

She's still got that little smirk on her lips though.]

A catch and release for the dead? Doesn't that make things over crowded?

[bythewaves]

There have never been that many of us. [ Maglor shrugs ]

And even in my time, we explored widely but did not even begin to touch all the lands of Aman.

[inspiredvoice]

But you're not the only ones around.

[She rolls her shoulder, shrugging it off, as she sits up straight and stretches her arms over her head.]

Hades would never be so free with what's his. He likes to keep those he claims.

[bythewaves]

In Aman we are.

[ He laughs softly and then adds ]

Well, us and the Ainur, of course, but being as they don't actually have physical form except for amusement, they don't take up much space. And there are two hobbits right now, perhaps three one day, and even a dwarf if my cousin gets her way.

[inspiredvoice]

Clearly these Ainur are doing it wrong. One should always take up as much space as possible. Especially when having fun.

[Saucy. She could be joking, or she could be serious. Or seriously joking. Or any number of combinations.

Again those eyes are intense on him.]

Like you. You try to fade away in this corner, but you're filling the room. You're far to big to hide. And I don't mean your height.

[bythewaves]

[ He laughs outright at that ]

Lord Tulkas would agree with you there - he's always been larger than life, occasionally quite literally. But usually if they take physical form it's for our convenience, so they tend to be more or less us-shaped and sized.

[ He blinks and flushes ]

You are kind to say so.

[namod]

[Sometimes there's another when Maglor happens by, sitting at a table, quietly enjoying a drink and watching those coming and going. Never in a form the elf would immediately recognize, and he keeps the Music flowing normally to avoid scaring the poor elf.

Or if there is music playing, it's from the harp he also occasionally brings along, or the guitar or some other instrument for the fun of it.

But today there's a little something More to this being. He waits, watching quietly and keeping an eye on Maglor to see what he'd do. This time though there is also an air of expectation.]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor always enjoys it, when there's someone else to play with. This bar is a place for odd folk, so he's never really paid attention to who else comes in (but maybe, that's a lie. Maybe, he's watching, waiting, hoping, for some very special people).

Certainly, he never asks who (or what) someone else is - that would be rude, and the whole point of places like this is to be as close to anonymous as they can get.

There's nothing anonymous about the Being who is sitting and watching him.

(he's never been Namo's student, but he has been Irmo's briefly, at one time, for Art and Dreams go hand in hand. The Feanturi aren't that different to each other, no matter what the rest of the world sometimes thinks.)

Maglor is very still, although his hands never stop their playing, but he's as tense as a drawn bow, waiting for... he doesn't know.

Is Namo come to bring judgement? ]

[namod]

[Oh Maglor. Sorrow doesn't touch the Vala's gaze, though understanding does. He knows very well how his presence affects most of their circle.

On anyone else, the smile would be encouraging and beckoning. Does Maglor believe it? Probably not. But there is also no real room for denying the gesture of the note Namo plays next.

Approach, Child of Eru. He won't bite.]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor's breath catches at the summons, face going pale. In his own way, he's been refusing their summons for centuries, now, isolating himself in self-imposed exile.

But this is a direct summons, one he cannot refuse without being deliberately, blatantly in opposition to Their Will. Again.

Slowly, he stands and puts the harp down, coming to stand trembling before Namo ]

[namod]

[He's proud of you for having the courage to obey this time.

Only when Maglor stands before him does he set his instrument down.]

Have a seat, Maglor. I am not here as Judge. Only to ask why you have not yet come home.

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor shoots a confused look at him but obeys. ]

I...can't?

[namod]

You can. There is a place waiting for you, if you have the courage to accept it. It does not require passing through my Halls.

Your exile is self-inflicted at this point, Child.

[bythewaves]

But...

[ Maglor says confusedly ]

I...can't!

[namod]

[A deep sense of compassion enters the Vala's eyes and being.]

Am I not Vala? The one who delivered the Doom unto you? If I say you may come Home, there is no further reason to say you cannot. It would not be an easy path, no more than the one you have walked since your hasty departure, but it is open to you.

[bythewaves]

[ he shrinks in his seat, wringing his hands ]

But...how can I...my victims! The curse...I'm not safe...

[namod]

[He sighs softly and reaches for the elf's hands.]

I have elves in my Halls who refuse to leave while knowing you are not there waiting for their Rebirth. They cannot heal without you, Makalaure. Come home.

Speak with your victims, if they allow you to. Ask their forgiveness. Prove you are worthy of it. You cannot do that here, so far from them.

The only curse still in effect is the one you demand of yourself.

[bythewaves]

[ he freezes, staring at him with wide eyes ]

Why...who would anyone wait for me?