Kelsi Nielson | Bard Mage | High School Musical (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
playmakings) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
eachdraidh2014-10-04 01:23 am
playmakings) wrote in eachdraidh2014-10-04 01:23 am
1st libretto | video | seelie and unseelie
Okay. [ Kelsi takes a deep breath, trying not to look too frazzled. She's feasted, woken up, and...Nope. She's still here. She takes a quick breath and offers a shy, slightly waning smile to the network of lockets. She's in her room--it's one of the smaller ones--and Ryan Evans can be seen in the background with his eyes closed, doing yoga. More specifically, parsvottasana pose. Kelsi seems completely oblivious. ] So this isn't a dream, that's--great. [ That's one word for it ] Which means if we're all here for a very long time, it's probably a good idea to say hi? So...
[ A little awkward, but she lifts her hand in greeting, the smile completely gone after her hand moves to fall on her lap. ] Hi. I'm Kelsi, and if there are any Wildcats out there, please let me know? At first I thought this was a dream, except normally my dreams involve East High still, and musical signups, sometimes I dream about tea, and--oh! Right. I also wanted to know if anyone here has a good singing voice. And maybe if you were okay with letting me hear it?
It's not for something weird! I promise, I promise, it's just--If I'm going to be here for a while, I might as well do something. Like write, right? [ Wow Kels, way to not tell people what you actually do. ]
One last little thing--if anyone was going to university or college for music composition, I'd really like to get into contact with you. There's this bit in one of my text books that's really confusing to me for some reason. Thanks!
[ She ends it with a little wave--and throughout this entire conversation, Ryan has moved to Downward Dog, and eventually to a handstand. ]
[ A little awkward, but she lifts her hand in greeting, the smile completely gone after her hand moves to fall on her lap. ] Hi. I'm Kelsi, and if there are any Wildcats out there, please let me know? At first I thought this was a dream, except normally my dreams involve East High still, and musical signups, sometimes I dream about tea, and--oh! Right. I also wanted to know if anyone here has a good singing voice. And maybe if you were okay with letting me hear it?
It's not for something weird! I promise, I promise, it's just--If I'm going to be here for a while, I might as well do something. Like write, right? [ Wow Kels, way to not tell people what you actually do. ]
One last little thing--if anyone was going to university or college for music composition, I'd really like to get into contact with you. There's this bit in one of my text books that's really confusing to me for some reason. Thanks!
[ She ends it with a little wave--and throughout this entire conversation, Ryan has moved to Downward Dog, and eventually to a handstand. ]
...oh screw it hiatus breaking for you [private voice]
But I was once considered amongst the greatest bards of my world, if you truly want a song. What would you hear?
[private video]
I'd love to hear a song. Anyone! What about one about love?
[private voice] fine 1/2
Love though... the greatest tale of love my people have is the Lay of Leithian - 'Release from Bondage', in your tongue.
It is a long one though, if you mind not the telling.
[ A quiet pause and then he lifts up his voice in song. Makalaure - his mother called him, who forges gold from his voice, and grief and pain has stolen none of his power, only deepened it. As he sings the images will spin to life for her and all who hear, as if they walk in waking dream ]
2/2 TLDRS but I will spare you the actual lay, I think
There is a maiden, with hair like shadow, the fairest to ever live, and she dances beneath the stars to the sound of the flue, and spring follows in her wake. There is a man, who has lost everything and has fought longer and harder than any other, and through perils and torments has found his way into her father's hidden kingdom. Tinuviel he calls her - 'Nightingale' - and she stops her dance and loves him, and spring comes to his heart as well. She leads him before her father, and the king is wroth that any mortal should dare to ask for his daughter, his most priceless treasure. The king sets an impossible errand - a jewel, the most priceless treasure of all elvendom - 'Steal me a Silmaril from the Iron Crown of the Dark Lord, and you may take Luthien to wife'.
Beren laughs 'For little price do Elven-kings sell their daughters!'
In Nargothrond he pleads aid for the sake of his father's friendship with the King, but the Sons of Feanor dwell there, whose inheritance is the Silmarils, and when he leaves he does so only with the King and seven companions, and not an army. They go to Tol Sirion, where the Lord of Werewolves dwells, and the King fights him but cannot defeat him, and the Wolves devour the companions one by one, until only the King and Beren remain. The King breaks his bonds and slays the werewolf, but dies of his wounds, and Beren weaps over his body.
In the hidden kingdom Luthien waits, and her father traps her in a treehouse, where she can see the stars but not go to Beren. Foreboding ill, she weaves a spell to grow her hair, and from it she weaves a rope to escape and a cloak spelled with sleep. The sons of Feanor waylay her, but faithful Huan, the hound of Valinor helps her escape, and she comes to Tol Sirion, where she fights the Lord of Werewolves and with Huan's help has the mastery. Tearing down the tower she goes to Beren, and together they take the forms of a werewolf and a bat, and sneak into the the Dark Lord's palace.
And the Dark Lord, old before the beginning of the world, laughs at their deceit and strips them of their disguise, but Luthien, daring, begs leave to sing before him. Enraptured by her beauty he permits it, and she dances before him, and throws her cloak before his eyes... and the Dark Lord... sleeps. They steal a Silmaril but the Wolf at the gates is awake, and he bites off Beren's hand that holds the Silmaril. But the jewels are holy, and will suffer no unclean touch, and he flees from the gate, howling as it burns him. So they return, Beren and Luthien, and the King's heart is changed, and he permits his daughter to wed.
But the Wolf is crazed with pain and the Silmaril drives him through the enchantments that hide the King's kingdom, and Beren goes forth to the hunt. Huan slays the Wolf, but not before Beren is mortally wounded saving the King. Weeping Luthien bids him wait for her, and when he dies she lays herself down and her spirit flees to Mandos. There, before the Judge of the Dead she sings of their love, and so moved is he that the Doomsman permits that which has never before and never again been allowed, and Mortal Man walks out of Death to Life. And Luthien goes with him, now fully mortal, and together they dwell in bliss, and eventually die, passing beyond the walls of the world.
And so we have lost her who was most beloved, Luthien the Fair, but their descendants grew great and their fates wrote much of our world's history.
holy shit
It's not beautiful. It's more than beautiful. The images, yes, but the music--the story, everything it told, Kelsi's feeling her own confidence slip through her grasp because she's not even sure she'll ever be capable of that. It's beautiful. So, so, beautiful, but that's not even the right word. ]
There's--there's nothing I can think of to describe how amazing that just was...
I... Thank you.
/bows also here ya go, congrats he's switched to video
[ he smiles, quiet and small, a man who is not quite a man, pale and fair, all sharp angles with a light in his eyes ]
I am glad you thought so, mistress. That tale was written by one who loved the Lady Luthien dearly, Daeron of Doriath, quite possibly the greatest bard to ever live - certainly the greatest of his people. He was the flutist who played for her you see, but her eyes turned only to Beren.
no subject
Unrequited love. [ Yeah, she knows all about that. Mainly from watching Ryan pine. ]
One day, I want to compose music like that. Stuff that's just so beautiful--so people like you can see it, ma'am. I mean--oh, uh, I mean sir. Sir?
[ Shut up. Move on. ]
...You can, uh. You can just call me Kelsi. Or Kels.
...I suck at pronunciation BUT I THINK THIS IS KINDA CLOSE?
And I am a sir rather than a ma'am, although you may call me Maglor, Kelsi. Daeron and I were... I suppose you would say contemporaries, although I met him but the once, and the Lay is widely regarded his greatest work, as the Noldolante is mine, or so I have been told. If the love of beauty dwells so within your heart, I have no doubt that you will succeed.
no subject
no, wait, hang on. Back up. Just a bit. ]
But you said their descendants 'grew', not 'will grow.' And you're saying you knew him?
no subject
I did, aye - some of them are here, even now. And I met Daeron but the once, before his king shut the doors of his kingdom to me and mine.
no subject
no subject
It is hard to judge exactly, for I was born in the years before moon and sun, but I have seen, I think, by your count some three thousand years of the sun or so.
no subject
[ Yeah, give her a sec to absorb that. ]
no subject
Aye - I am not as you are, Kelsi. I am Firstborn - Eldar - what you Men have always referred to as Elves. I was born in Valinor in the years of the Trees, and I saw their destruction, and the rising of their last fruit and flower, that Men would after call Moon and Sun. And Kelsi - here in the Drabwurld, I am one of the younger of my folk.
1/3
2/3
3/3
You're old. But...not old?
[ Wow good job. ]
stop being so adorable kelsi
To Men I suppose i might seem so. Among my folk? I have here both my older brother and my mother. And if you include the years that divide us from the Court's trickery to draw my youngest cousin here from my future, I am but a stripling. There are those younger, of course - my younger brother is here, the Woodland Prince and his childhood companion and guard, another of my cousins. But the Eldar die not, unless slain in battle or by grief, and we endure until the world ends.