(( Not a combat-based, I plan...I want this to be creative roleplay where possible. ^_^
There's a chance of some practising, and a little fighting getting involved but I can't see it going anywhere further...
Just a warning, for those who enjoy combat-style..

Although, this will be a good chance for character development, if you need a little more. ))


Silence befell the library, the only sounds created by pages turning and the disturbance of long-since settled dust.
Dusty greay was the exact colour of the boy's hair, the one who perched himself at a table, poring over a heavy tome with spidery thin fingers. Alabaster skin was not only pale, not the pure cream of the majority of Rivendell inhabitants, but pure snow alabaster, untouched and untainted by the pollution of nature.
Light had never reached this boy, slim, underfed, gaunt. Velvet jacket curved, fitted to a bowed waist, embroidered with white branches for his name.

Back curved over, the boy seemed even thinner than his clothes showed off, folds managing to illuminate his ribs, and candle alighting the deep grooves of hollowed cheekbones.
In an odd way, the boy was beautiful...
Candlelight added a glow to his cheeks, a soft dusky orange to bring some life to lifeless cheeks..

Mahogany eyes glimmered with their crimson tint, accentuated through the gentle flame.
This was his sanctuary, somewhat. This was somewhere where he could at least hide, and where the worst injury he could face was a papercut.
An overprotective father did nothing for your social life...
It was perhaps this enduring factor which brought the recluse nature of Aarisynta to rise.

Right now, he was alone. He sensed no person peering over his shoulder, no movement...
Cumalating theories were struck aside when balls of feet were picked up by the sensitive ears. Feet that were making their way up a winding staircase to interrupt the early morning quiet.
Sanctuaries were nothing when held in a public place, and it was always so that his own space should be broken into, the bubble of protection burst upon contact...
Contact itself, was approaching the lonely boy...
Half of him longed to embrace a touch, the other half was teetering on the edge of falling into his book and losing himself forever.

Right at this moment, the former seemed much more inviting...


(( All are welcome, literate RP is appreciated...if you abbreviate, I'll have to kill you. ^_^
Other than that, please...go ahead!
Oh, and feel free to scare, insult and prod my darling character. It's what he's there for. ))

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

i'll join)

Deawen walked slowly down the corridors the stone echoed as she stepped slightly but as a human still a noise hear. her skin was pale deathly white in the dark or dim light of the candles. her eyes a dark blue she was 15 but looked older but her heart was kind and soft she hated fighting she had never seen a sword.

she came to a room she stood in the doorway and stared at the boy perched on the table. she sighed and sat next to him.
"what are you reading?" her voice smooth and soft

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

[ http://arwen-undomiel.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=4701 I'll join, if it's alright. I'll be using Eilwynn.]


In an alcove adjacent to the library, a bent figure sat in the brooding absence of light, darkness shrouding all the rounded corners. A single candle was lit, but it's emanating light only reached the pages of the book placed before the figure, and her face; illuminating her eerie amber optics as they scanned scrupulously across the musty pages. She was not reading, but searching. Scraping away at the words inwardly, frantically..

Eilwynn's wan features seemed hardened into a fixed arduous expression, her dark brows furrowed in silent angst as she flipped through the pages of the book. It was a fruitless task, one she had never succeeded in, nor submitted to. It was not until a voice broke her concentration that she looked up from the yellow-stained parchment, and gazed over her shoulder. 'Twas nothing but a skinny boy reading and his friend, she thought, returning to her search.

-This should be fun, I think. http://www.arwen-undomiel.com/forum/vie ... 038#222038 -

Arvalin advanced slowly up the stairs, counting each individual step as his foot rested on it. When finally he slipped through the archway, he was ready to settle into his usual place and finish the scroll he was studying. But of course, this area of the library was inhabited. Nevertheless, he located the parchment on a shelf and sat on the window seat, using the remainder of the pale light before he was forced to light a candle.
Hearing a faint voice, he glanced up for a moment. But it was in seperate area, and his view was obstructed by a bookcase. With an irritated arch to his eyebrow, he continued reading.

_________________
"Where's the thump-thump?!" ~ <3 *Captain* Jack Sparrow~ <a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Silent_Wanderer/JohnnyJack.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>

Deawen sighed but it was soft like the gentel breeze in the summer. she fingered a tassel on her silky flowing dress, she looked around and noticed they wer'nt as alone as the defening silence told.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

(( Oo, you're all welcome, and it looks to be fun with some more interaction. -dance- ))

Silvery-haired head lifted, if only for a moment to assess the person beside him without the hint of contempt he might have ordinarily welcomed unwanted company.
The voice he used to reply was fitting to the boy himself. Frail, slightly painful...although, surprisingly sweet to the ears.

"...H-Herbal, and Floral Properties..." he replied quietly, each word pronounced precisely.
Blasphemous was it to raise a voice in such a quiet place, his quiet place at that...

Regardless, he was far from alone, although perhaps sanctum came in the silence of others, enough to lull him into believing so.

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

Deawen nodded and picked up a book she could read fluently but found it boring she worked with books for hours putting scrolls and books away to their proper place she was not allowed in parts of the library nor was anyone else but few but that never stopped her she was a master of locks after reading a few books about it. a few loose strands of hair fell from behind her ear she let the strand of copper stay as she read the pages .

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Deep almond-set eyes lifted liquidly to sway across the room, from one pallid face to the next, all illuminated with the warm glow of candlelight.
Aarisynta shifted in his seat somewhat.
He didn't feel comfortable, not with so many people near him...not with so many surrounding him...

They seemed to loom as long shadows, stretched and distorted as the mocking forms danced nimbly across the pages of his book.
Taunting, teasing...

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

Deawen noticed her friends shift and she quietly closed her book and walked around to help around with others searches. (feel free to be as nasty towards Dea as you want btw) she walked behind a bookcase she saw someone there "have you found everything you need sir?" she asked softly

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Since when was there ever a librarian..? She mused, now distracted from her silent searching. Eilwynn had not realized it, but her bottom lip was now being bitten harshly upon by ivory teeth. It was a familiar pain, one she had grown numb to. It was not until a warm liquid seeped through her teeth that she released her lip, somewhat startled. Her deep amber optics flicked away from Deawen, and back down at the ancient parchment that rested mockingly before her.

Fruitless attempt indeed.

Deeming this day another waste, she closed the book carefully, so as not to arise dust or noise, and very stressfully, pulled herself up from her chair. A large white cloth was wrapped around her upper leg, seeming thick with layers, and another patch could be found on the left side of her neck. They seemed like very fresh changes, for they had been nursed once more only a half an hour ago.

Eilwynn walked--or limped rather, across the stone floors, a grimace twisting her features, her jaw clenched as she tried to ignore the throbbing pain that coursed through her limbs. She was scheduled for an early nap, but being the procastinator she was..she figured a little stroll into some fresh air would probably do her condition good.

However, when her eyes met that of the pale boy's, her features softened momentarily..and a thoughtful gaze was replaced. Her pace slowed some as she passed, seeming to study the young Elf with curiousity before she finally shook her musings away, and gave a quick smile before exiting the library.

He nodded silently, not pausing in his study to look up. In fact, it could be said that he barely heard the question enough to produce an answer. At any length, his thought process was no different than it had been before he was disturbed, and so he turned the scroll over, ignoring the puff of dust that was cast into the air.
His bright eyes scanned the sketches on this side of the parchment. He read the entries that were written under the drawings, Aand then his face lit up with a rare genuine smile.
That had to be it.
Quickly, he carefully rolled the scroll and extinguished the candle with an adept thumb and forefinger. Without a glance at the librarian, he strode from the room and was gone.

_________________
"Where's the thump-thump?!" ~ <3 *Captain* Jack Sparrow~ <a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Silent_Wanderer/JohnnyJack.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>

(( Abandoning it already? >->; ))

Something lit, like a fire in bright eyes as Aarisynta looked up to see the eye contact.
Eye contact he strove to keep, for longer than it lasted.
Long fingers pushed down, pressured upon the wooden table to lift himself up to his slender feet. It was with a hurried movement that he slid the book back into it's respective bookcase, longing to follow the dark-haired head...chase down that smile...


Feet didn't carry him as quickly as his gaze, not keeping up as she limped away out of the library, leaving the boy to linger as he reached the door, leaving it slightly ajar to stare out toward the unforseen light and the softness of nature...

How he would long to belong out there, within the leaves, the flowers...unswept and unhindered by wind or rain; but alas his frame was a fragile one, and his trial was to be a long one...
A lonely one.

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

Deawen turned and made to go back to her silent companion but he was not there. Deawen went down a corridor and watched the boy he longed and she was wanting to help. she came up beside him and lightly tapped his shoulder "want to go out there?" she asked with a grin this was adventure for her

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

It was with a quiet smile that Aarisynta yielded to agree. Not often did he accept the help of strangers, but kindness in that form meant so much...kindness without knowledge, without prejudice..

Kindness given for the pure fact that he was indeed...himself, and no other.

He nodded, silently before allowing himself to speak...

"...I..would like to, yes..."

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

(^^ I'd like to join.... http://www.arwen-undomiel.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=4787&start=0 Erm.... I think I'll use... Coraliaera...)

An elf maiden sat within the darkness of the library, though in an unlikely position upon a bench, cross legged, a book on her lap. Lightly waved black hair was pulled into a loose tie, several strands falling over her pale yet keen green eyes, her gaze concentrating on the book before her. Her attention was brought to movement and voices. Everyone seemed to be taking their leave of the library, and as usual, none had noticed the quiet elf sitting off on her own, the color of the deep red silken dress she wore concealed by the lack of light. A soft smile graced her fair features as she listened to the quiet conversation, the light from the door catching the green in her eyes as she examined the two by the door.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

It was as he placed his hand on the doorframe that light hit the boy's face, glowing as it caught his skin. Not pale, but deathly white, like the petals of an lily or a ice rose.., and cold as snow..

"Although whether I can is entirely different, I fear.." he mused, oh so softly before looking back to meet eyes with the one beside him..

He felt slightly dizzy...
Perhaps he had stood too quickly.., or perhaps the rush of company was overwhelming him a little...

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde